The job made be messy, but the result is worth it.

Black and blue ink stains form bruises on the 62-year-old hands of Giambalista Battistelli. He wipes them on a black apron, the remnants of a long day's work. He stands on his stoop. His shop, a printing press named after him, is empty of customers filled only with huge gadgets, drawers, and papers that remind me more of a dirty college bedroom than Cagli's and one of Italy's oldest printing presses. Something lured him to shuffle onto the shop's front steps, perhaps the same gravitational pull that brings all Italians to their door entrances to stare down the cobblestone streets. I am not sure if his unusually outdated appearance and apparel or the store, void of people, with gigantic iron machines created my first impression of Battistelli. I knew, however, as I continued down the alley, it would not be the last.

"Signore! Cancel the death announcements, per favore! My mother is not dying anymore!" Battlistelli looks up from his slate of stamps on a black table covered in request orders and printing ink. During his 35 years as owner, customers have called off wedding cards, birth notices, posters, and business cards; canceling the traditional death arrival posters? A first. Recalling several memories from his past, Battistelli explains that each job opens up a new door and opportunity to be creative. "My job never gets tiring," he explains. Does he want to do anything else? "No," he answers, smiling.

Never attending a university or design school, the majority of Battistelli's life has been spent doing nothing else but design work, apprenticing with a press maker at the age of fourteen. He has been printing ever since. In 1970, after spending fourteen years working as student and then partner of another press maker, Battistelli bought the store he currently owns. Tipografia Battistelli, Via de Torrione #9.

Formerly a printing press, the previous owner left two presses along with dressers inundated with carateres mobili, individual letter stamps compromised of a single character. Now, the store consists of four presses, one dating back to the end of the 1800's that must be run using a foot pedal. Each printer performs a different task. Each must be carefully tended to by Battistelli's eyes and gifted hands.

Why would someone choose to continue using such antique machines? What benefit comes from additional work that could easily be done with a simple rapping on the keyboard and click of the mouse? Number of copies: 20. Print.

"I am an artist," Battistelli states, looking up from a slate of letters that appears to form a wedding announcement, although I cannot be sure. All of the letters are backwards... and in Italian. He opens up a binder of his work, birth notices on flowered paper, business notes on white card stock. Each project is a masterpiece. Each print has its own mark, areas where the press lacked ink, leaving a sponge-like quality to th stamp. Areas with too much ink, little smudges and blot spills over the letters defined edges. It is a personal and unique quality that shows through each print, if one is willing to take a closer look.

In order to create the print for an order, Battistelli must create a design for the card. "I am responsible for the layout and font decisions. But, my client has e quello de decide, the final word." First, he combines carateres mobili of various fonts and sizes to create the text. After the completion of the print, the designer must decide the printer of choice. Ink , globbed onto a wooden stick from a bucket, must then be smeared on the roller that paints the print. Several prints must be made if more than one color is required. No three color RGB cartridge is added. Instead, sweat is removed from Battistelli's forehead using the back of his hand, the only clean part.

Some projects such as posters can take up to a day or two to design, create, and print. On average, projects that take three hours to complete can be done on computer in five minutes at Cagli's second, and only other, printing press. Toss new text into an already designed computer layout. Change a color here. Replace an image there. Click. Done. Why has he not switched? Expenses, mainly. To change all of the machines and purchase computers and various printers would cost Battistelli, un sacco di soldi, a lot of money. His hand grazes one of his prints, "Also, it is less creative," he comments. Having each design uniquely hand-printed has a value of its own. "Everyday, I create something different. That is the beauty of the job."

Does hand-printed work come at a price? Of course, but not always the more expensive one. Posters that require the most labor and generally several colors cost more than the other computer store. Business cards, however, cost less at Tipografia Battistelli's. In addition, mistakes in content require a computer to create a new film print while Battistelli must only replace a single block letter or two and is ready to go again!

"Amo mio lavaro, I love my job," Battistelli answers to a question I, an aspiring graphic designer, asked. He has made some Cagli residents their birth, marriage, child's birth, and, for some, death announcements. The tradition of old machines and techniques will continue for another generation. Battistelli's children, 36-year-old Roberto and 30-year-old Claudia, who already work at the stop, plan on taking over the press after their father retires, a date that Battistelli does not expect to come anytime soon.

I shook his hand before leaving, a transfer of sweat and wet ink transferred from his fingers to my own. Battistelli walks me to the door, leaving an impression on me like ink on paper. He prints memories, records moments in time. For a second, we are one.

Battistelli eagerly shows off his printing press