The Sticky and Icky Part of Mosaics

Today we completed the first stage of our mosaic reproductions using the Ravenna method. We had embedded the tesserae onto a lime substrate, a temporary binder that keeps the tiles where we had carefully placed them. The nice thing about lime is that it takes a few days or longer to completely dry out, giving the mosaicist plenty of time to complete this step.

Before transferring the mosaic to a permanent binder (in this case cement), the front of the mosaic is covered with a damp cheese cloth before being sealed with a glue. Once the glue dries, we will scrape off the lime backing, lift the now hardened cheese cloth and put the whole thing onto a cement bed. Then, we will dissolve the glue wash and scrub the mosaic. Voila! (later on we will get to the Voila! part)

The icky part is that the water soluble glue we are using is made from rabbit bones and skin. It comes in small amber colored beads; these are melted over a double boiler before being brushed onto, or rather into, the cheese cloth. The smell is nauseating, and the thought of spreading boiled bunny bones over my mosaic made me want to puke (but, I rarely vomit, so this didn't actually happen). Apparently rabbit glue is also used for other restorations - of violins, frescoes, etc. I was briefly consoled by the thought is that at least all of the rabbit is being used - the rest of it you can find on menus in Italian restaurants or in jackets.

I asked about non-animal glues that could be used for this purpose. There are substitutes (such as a heated mixture of water and flour) but each of the animal-friendly versions comes with limitations, either drying very slowly or requiring extensive cleaning afterward. Luckily, there are other ways to make mosaics, using materials available at Home Depot. These are sticky, just not icky.

Mosaics: Paying to be a Roman Slave

Luciana, the owner of the mosaic school in Ravenna where I am attending a five day workshop, told us yesterday morning that we were going to be Roman slaves, spending the rest of the day cutting marble into little pieces (tesserae) for our mosaics. We were each given the ancient tools - a hammer-like object, rounded at the top with carbide blades at the tips, and a hardie, a striking surface that is embedded in a log of wood.

The hammer is large, and the mosaic tesserae are tiny, and at first it seemed impossible that such an unwieldy instrument could cut anything precisely (at least in my hands!). It also looked difficult to be holding a hammer, but Luciana reassured us that it is actually healthier on the body to work with these tools than to use a modern tile nipper, which you squeeze in one hand to cut the material. Repeated use of the nipper can lead to carpal tunnel problems, whereas the Roman tools won't. I felt better knowing that the Roman slaves who prepared the mosaics did not go home each night will extraordinary pain in their arms.

Once I got into the groove of cutting marble, it was quite meditative. The trick is to rest the hammer on the log between taps (very little force is required to cut even marble!), to maintain an erect posture, and to trust oneself to hit the material and not one's fingers (which steady the object being cut). After a few hours I had a growing collection of small to tiny rectangles of marble, some of which I'd use in my mosaic.

We could choose to copy one of a dozen designs that the school pre-selected, none of which really grabbed me. But I had to decide so I selected an image of a duck that comes from a floor mosaic in Tiberias, Israel, figuring it would be a way to link my travels. In an attempt to spice up my image, I used my new cutting skills to create tiny and shiny red glass tips for the duck's feet, decking it out for a night on the town.

Quack!