How to Annoy an Artist

Giant

Here is a recent doodle using a Laban Mento fountain pen (M nib) with Noodler's Kiowa Pecan ink. 

TWSBI Diamond 540 Fountain Pen

My Diamond 540 fine point just arrived today from Goldspot Pens. I haven't even decided which color of ink to fill it with yet, but wanted to post a pre-review: This is a lot of pen for $50!  I missed the 530 at that price and vowed not to let that happen next time.  Next time was two days ago!  Kudos to Goldspot for the Twitter notice of the intro, the great price and quick ship!

PRE-VIEW: Demonstrator piston-fill fountain pen with interchangeable nibs for $50.00!  Even the display box is so cool, you feel like the whole thing should be kept unopened and put on a display shelf along side of the model and diorama that you spent hours building.  It looks like a cross between a Pelikan demo and a Levenger Truewriter, with the best attributes of both pens.  The only thing that I'm not crazy about is the faceted barrel; I'd rather it be a smooth tube, but that's just personal preference.  A piston filler this nice for $50 - who cares about a few facets!

Libelle Siena Fountain Pen - Nero Black

My wife asked me what I wanted for my birthday this year, and I replied with an embarrassed grin that it was already on the way.  I had been eyeing the Libelle Siena fountain pen and when it went on sale, I grabbed it up.  I've read a number of comments by fountain pen collectors about black pens with chrome trim being boring, but they are still my favorite.  It is just a classy masculine combination.  The Libelle Siena combines it with a ribbing that reminds me of designs from the 1930s.  

Libelle Siena Fountain Pen

This pen is large but not heavy: 5 3/8" capped.  5/8" in diameter. 6 3/8" posted. 4 7/8" with the cap off.

The clip is solid (not folded metal) and due to the up-turned end, it slides easily over a shirt pocket.  The tell-tale Libelle dragonfly logo is well-presented in the cap button. The etching in the cap band is very shallow, which always looks cheap to me.  But the rest of the pen looks and feels well made.

Cap button with dragonfly logo.

The cap posts by screwing onto the end of the pen.  So, there's no bother with the cap falling off while writing.  However, with mine posted, the clip does not line up with the nib - it is about 90 degrees off which annoys me.  The Siena is amazingly long at nearly 6 1/2" with the cap posted, which I like. It is a bit top-heavy but not uncomfortable.

Pen with cap posted

The Siena comes with a long Libelle converter, with an agitator.  I have seen these little balls in converters before but didn't know why they were there.  And recently ran across a comment elsewhere about how agitators in converters help to break up surface tension and so aid the ink flow.  Of course there are many factors that effect ink flow, but I can say that my Siena does not have ink flow problems after my second ink fill.  (The first time I filled the pen it would skip on the first stroke.)  It is filled with Waterman black and writes very well.

Large steel medium point nib

The nib is a large steel iridium point (Schmidt?)  medium nib that writes with an easy wet line.  I'd describe this nib as medium-plus.  It gives a fuller line than say a Japanese medium nib. The large nib provides a nice balance to the large pen.

Blue-Black Inks for the Color-blind.

The scan above shows three of my favorite blue-black inks: Diamine's Twilight, Private Reserve's Midnight Blues (Fast Dry) and Blue Suede.  The scan accentuates the colors as it would if we were to look at the paper in the sunlight.  In average indoor light the difference in the colors is not so distinct, especially between Twilight and Midnight Blues.  Blue Suede is obviously more muted in any light. It comes across more grey-green.  Or, so suggests the color-blind guy.  Yes, sad but true.  You cannot trust my evaluation of colors, because I have some red-green colorblindness.  There are two types of partial color-blindness: red-green, or blue-yellow. Red-green colorblindness makes it difficult to see the difference between white and pink, or tan and pink, or olive green and brown, or blue and purple.  But I have no difficulty recognizing primary colors. This type of colorblindness is a genetic disability that is passed from father through daughter to grandson.  My mother's father had the same type of colorblindness.  It wasn't a big deal for him because he was a farmer.  However, for me it was a constant obstacle.  At age nine - before I even knew that I was partially color blind - I decided to be an artist.  That decision at age nine framed every other decision that I made for the next 20 plus years.  As if that wan't difficult enough, I wanted to be a portrait painter. Being a successful portrait painter with normal color vision is difficult enough, but to be one with impaired color vision is nearly impossible.  So, I finally settled on drawing highly detailed pencil portraits.

So, why do I keep buying so many different colors of ink?  Maybe it is just wishful thinking.  However, I do in fact see colors.  Obviously, I don't see them with the same variety of color range that most people do, but I do see them. And, I love bright colors. I also enjoy seeing the different nuances in colors, even if it is a strain.  That means that I have to look at large samples in bright sunlight to be able to see them better. Fortunately, I have studied color theory and have a solid understanding of what colors must be mixed together to produce a complex color, even if I can't see it.  And, I know from reading other ink reviews that some blues may tend toward a green tint or red tint, so that even colors that we call "blue" are tending toward an aqua or violet, both of which are too subtle for me to see.

I first discovered - or I should say my mother first discovered - that I was color-blind one Sunday morning in church when I was about eight or nine years old.  We were just entering the church building when she and my father stopped to talk with someone; my mother motioned me on to go sit behind Mrs Whosits in the pink sweater.  I saw two women in white sweaters and replied that I didn't see anyone wearing a pink sweater.  Because of my grandfather's colorblindness, my mother instantly recognized what this signified.  Maybe I should have recognized what it signified as well, because I failed miserably as an artist and am now an Anglican priest, where colorblindness is a great gift!

Visconti Rembrandt Fountain Pen

First Impressions. [10/10] The very first impression was “This is a high quality pen and altogether different than any other pen I've owned.” This Visconti Rembrandt is made out of black resin with a slight hint of very dark silver veins. On this pen the veins are nothing as distinct as the photograph that I saw online. At first I was disappointed by that but over time have grown to love the subtlety. It doesn't jump out at you the way some bright and bold resin mixes do. Instead it conveys the serious chiaroscuro that the Visconti's designers envisioned. While the pen is very ingenious and modern in the way the pen is designed to function, it communicates a centuries old impression – as it was clearly intended to do. As an amateur student of art who has studied Rembrandt's paintings in person, I am amazed at how well this pen captures the atmosphere of Rembrandt. I know it sounds trite, but it looks like the kind of pen he would have used, had there been such a thing. However, I have also seen the blue Visconti Rembrandt in person and did not find that to be true with that pen. The blue version did not communicate the bold chiaroscuro that Rembrandt is known for, nor did it have that old-but-new appearance.
Dimensions. [9/10] Classic cigar-shaped pen with many interesting nuances.
Capped: 5 1/2” or 14.1mm
Posted: 6 7/16” or 16mm
Uncapped: 4 15/16” or 12.5mm
Diameter: 1/2” or 13cm
Quality. [10/10] The quality of this pen is impressive in every detail. The resin is lustrous and not easily scratched. The threads between the body and nib section are metal to metal. (Leaving you without the concern that metal on resin may eventually wear out or cross-thread.) The button and end caps are metal and well fitted. The band on the cap is beautifully detailed and deep. (It is nothing like the shallow laser engraving that one occasionally sees.) It is very comfortable to use and pleasing to the eye.

Cap. [10/10] Usually, the cap of a pen is the part I am the least interested in. So long as it looks good and does what it is supposed to do, I am pleased. However, the Rembrandt's cap is simply amazing at a number of levels. The engraved band is strikingly handsome, with an antiqued look to the silver. The magnetic closure is fun and functional. I'd remembered that being the only feature of the blue Rembrandt that I had seen in a local store that I liked, but it wasn't enough to get me to buy it. But now that I've had the black Rembrandt for a couple of months, I think it is tremendous. I use my fountain pens at work throughout the day, but get weary of constantly unscrewing the cap. The magnetic cap seats firmly over the nib, so there's no concern about it coming loose in your pocket, and pulling the cap on and off throughout the day is a joy rather than a chore. Putting the cap back on the pen is actually distractingly fun (I'm easily amused) because you just get the cap close to being closed and the magnet pulls the cap on the rest of the way by itself. Also, the cap seats well enough that the nib doesn't dry out quickly: another plus. As if that weren't enough, the cap has a magnet built into its top button also. When I purchased this, I didn't care the least bit about the Visconti "My Pen System” - I knew I'd never use it. However, the dealer threw in my initials for free – I guess because I'm a regular customer, or because he is such a nice guy, or both! The Visconti My Pen System allows you to customize the top button of your pen. Using a magnet you can pull out the standard Visconti logo and replace it with your initials, symbol, or stone. As much as I liked having my initials in the pen, they left the top of the pen very flat, which opposes the symmetry of the pen – in my mind. The end cap at the bottom of the pen is a simple chrome nipple, which looks great on a classic cigar-shaped pen. The fact that the top of the cap didn't match the bottom of the barrel got on my nerves – I needed symmetry! So, I ordered a hematite stone to fit into the top of the cap. It came today. The pen is finally symmetrical. It looks great. I couldn't be more pleased.
Clip. [9/10] The clip is great, too! I'd seen photos of Visconti clips and didn't really care for them: they appeared to stick out too far. In reality, they do not. The bow of the clip is not as dramatic in person as at first appearance. And, the fact that it is spring-hinged is another classy and functional touch. Even the printing of “Visconti” on the side is accomplished artfully.

Fill. [5/10] This is the one and only feature where the pen does not excel. It uses a cartridge or converter. The converter is of sufficient quality and fits snugly into the feed. Nothing to complain about, but nothing to get excited about either. That being said, having a converter that fits securely is valuable.
Nib. [8/10] I have read critiques about Visconti steel nibs being too firm. And this nib (a fine) is fairly rigid, but not as rigid as a Cross or Waterman nib. It is extremely smooth and medium wet (6/10), and writes well with very little feed back. I am using Diamine Twilight ink and getting a very consistent medium-fine line without skipping.
Conclusions.  I enjoy this pen the more that I use it.  And now I'm thinking that I will order more stones for the pen system in different colors to indicate the color of ink in the pen.  Well, maybe I'm getting carried away.

Anatomy of a Fountain Pen

Once you find a pen you are happy with, it is easy to collect more of the same. For me, that has meant that I have collected several Levenger Truewriters – they are good writers, well designed at a reasonable price. Similarly, I have come to enjoy the variety, quality and style of Laban pens. 

 I appreciate those high quality pens in the $200.00 plus range, but frankly I can't afford many of those. Most of my collection comes out of the $40 - $100 range pens. And, I especially enjoy finding pens on sale. So, about a year ago I snagged a couple of Laban Celebration pens from Ebay. One was an Oyster Pearl Yellow Celebration with a custom ground needlepoint nib, and the other was a black Celebration with a standard medium point nib.

Fountain pens are like people, you have to spend some quality time with them before you know their true character. In the case of these two Celebrations, I discovered that I hated the needlepoint nib and loved the medium nib. However, I preferred the oyster pearl resin over the black resin. I wanted to swap the two nibs, but didn't know how to do it. So, I posted a query on the Fountain Pen Network and one officianado who was much more experienced than me told me how to do it. I gently wrestled the nibs out of the sections of the two pens, cleaned them, and then swapped the nibs and re-assembled them. Now one of the pens that I rarely used is one of my favorite pens.

It is funny how something can seem such a mystery until you dive in, and then once you have done so, you enjoy a confidence in that discovery. Hence, the Anatomy of the Pen.

Once I pulled the pen apart, I examined all of the components, so that I might understand better how it works. I thoroughly enjoy writing with fountain pens, but I also like to know how they function. The feed was the part that I realized I knew the least about. It is the conduit between the cartridge/converter and the nib. This is rather obvious once you see the feed outside of its housing. The feed includes the nipple at the top that receives the ink, which flows betwixt the feed and the nib to provide ink to the nib tip. This strikes me as that which is so typical in life: that here is an unseen or forgotten element in our lives that acts as the conduit for that which we most value. One rarely sees mention of the feed in reviews on fountain pens, and yet the pen would be useless without one. The great surprise for me once I disassembled my fountain pens was the complexity and utility of the feed. It supplies both ink and vent: blood and oxygen.  The feed is the conduit between the ink supply and the practical action of the nib. Not something that I give much thought to, but essential to the function of the pen.