While in Basel for a day trip in August, we stumbled across a petite museum dedicated to paper and printing—the Basler Papiermühle. Though somewhat under the radar, I found it to be robust, multilayered and utterly delightful. So I am here to tell you about it.
Just off the Rhine in Basel, the Basler Papiermühle Museum is a nice walk from the city’s famous Kunstmuseum, which in turn, is a short tram from the main train station. Basel is known for its art and for spawning the renowned and highly regarded international art fair, Art Basel, with all of it’s grandchildren throughout the world. Knowing this, I half expected to fall in love with the Kunstmuseum. And we had a nice time there. I really enjoyed an exhibition of Dan Falvin’s light artworks, which reminded me of James Turrell, who’s work I adore. Edie, predictably, loved the light installations, too.* I didn’t know Flavin much before, and I love how he used the most utilitarian, widely available and unsophisticated fluorescent light tubes as his choice of medium. Very interesting.
But it was the paper museum that I really fell for on this visit. Perhaps it is not so surprising. I have always loved paper, pens, notebooks, cards and writing implements of all kinds. I am one of those people who will spend a certain amount of money on a Japanese ceramic pen, or a marbled notebook made by an old family-run paper mill in Portugal. I also have endless unfilled notebooks sitting around, ready for every stroke of genius that must be noted, or to-do list that must be created! I am the kind of person who owns not one, not two, but three typewriters (in three colors). So, when the Basel paper museum popped up on my Google maps radar, I added it to our itinerary. I just didn’t expect it to be so good.
There is something really wonderful about seeking out a small museum, especially in a city with several other big and well-known ones. They are often tucked away in a more unassuming, neighborhood-y part of town. They are approachable, and (usually) doable in a few hours. They often have delightful cafes. And they are usually tightly focused on a more niche, narrow offering. I truly love a small museum. Among my other favorites are Musee de la vie Romantique in Paris, Napa Valley Museum in Yountville, CA, and Driehaus Museum in Chicago. Basler Papiermühle—is now in that short list of jewels.
The collection is presented in a historic water mill that quaintly lumbers across multiple old buildings with many small rooms leading into one another, narrow, wooden staircases, curved walls, exposed beams, and low ceilings. Such that, when you are reading about how they used to collect rags in order to make paper in the olden days, you feel a bit like you’re standing where the scullery maid once did. But rather than feel oppressive or gloomy, it just feels like you’re meandering through a wonky cottage.
As soon as we began, we stumbled on the first of many interactive exhibits within the collection. Why aren’t more museums like this? I can only think of the Exploratorium in San Francisco as a kind of (much bigger) cousin. At our first interactive station we got to watch, then create our own beautiful handmade sheet of paper, pulling the watery pulp onto a framed mesh screen, complete with a unique watermark of our choosing. This process is the origin of watermarking! It’s so neat to make one yourself.
All the interactive exhibits were just as unique and cool throughout. The number of paper goodies I left with from these alone filled me with childlike glee, if I’m honest. It’s such a fantastic place to take kids. In addition to the handmade paper, we walked away with pair of debossed single-sheet calendars that use gold paperclips to denote the date and show old German versions of months (like Weinmonat for November), which I inked myself. We got to try writing with a quill and practice different fonts, and type on a variety of old typewriters. I even got to keep a personally type cast letter K, after chatting with the man who created it.
Beginning with the creation of paper, the museum continues chronologically, covering ancient writing implements, to inks and the first handwritten books, language, symbols and the history of writing, then printing, presses, typesetting, and type casting, and eventually into bookmaking. There are also a couple offshoots displaying a large array of typewriters and early computing machines.
I found the museum to be deceptively thorough. So thorough, in fact, that we didn’t have time to even get to the top floor which covered bookmaking. :( We shall have to return. Let’s just say we were all busy interacting, discovering, oohing and ahhing over various parts. But also, we hadn’t really given ourselves more than a few hours, including lunch, because we had a ticketed train reservation back to Zürich.
Speaking of lunch, the cafe with it’s leafy patio out front was a nice place to dine before we headed inside. After walking around a bit, we felt like it was the best option and being fairly busy, it seemed we weren’t the only ones. I got the sense there were more locals there than tourists. Edie dozed in her stroller under the shade of a tree while we ordered, sipped a bit of wine, and fended off some aggressive yellow jackets. Once she woke up, she ate a bit from our plates before we finished and headed into the museum.
While checking the museum’s website before we arrived, I discovered a complementary project called “TEXT-iles” in an adjacent building that I didn’t want to miss. Of course this was before I knew about all the interactive exhibits inside. Still, we managed to stop by, and came away with a unique kind of print collage created by layering ink over various scraps of lace, ribbon and other wispy fabrics. It was a bit finicky for Edie to take much part and the ink was thick and oozy, but would ideal for slightly older kids. The whole thing reminded me of the art classes I used to take with Lynn Tuft back in Napa, during my pre-teen days. (Lynn was a fantastic local artist, author, and warm-hearted woman who is sadly no longer with us.)
Despite our limited time, we all I did manage to sneak in some browsing at the gift shop—fantastic as you might expect, for a paper lover such as myself. Sadly, I didn’t capture any photos of the space, but it was full of beautiful papers from all over the world, plus various pens and pencils, a lovely assortment of cards from small presses, and of course, paper made at the mill itself.
It would be a shame not to share with you the handmade papers I purchased, plus the results from all of our fun interactions there.
So, from left to right, upper row: the postcard Edie printed with her chosen graphics, practicing her name with the quill, the fabric print I did as part of the TEXT-iles project; middle row: a set of paper and envelopes for correspondence, plus a graphic printed notebook, both made with paper from the mill; bottom row: a watermarked handmade sheet of paper, the calendar, and my K.
If you cannot already tell, I would highly recommend this museum. If you find yourself heading to Basel for a few days, add this one to your list and I bet you’ll enjoy it as much as we did. I’d also add this piece of advice: look into some of the smaller museums at your next travel destination (or even at home!) and see if they might be worth a look. I think there are a lot of hidden gems out there. Often, you can have the place almost to yourself, and it makes for such an enriching experience.
I remember when we first moved abroad to Heidelberg, way back in 2007. I was somewhat sad about leaving SF, even though I was at the same time very excited to be moving to Europe. So I made this list of all these random places I wanted to go to in the city before I left, and a few things I wanted to experience. One of them was the Musée Méchanique—another terrific small museum, located in San Francisco of course. And I have to say I still remember, with fondness, the afternoon I wandered around there solo on a beautiful sunny Bay Area day, right on the water in Fisherman’s Wharf. I even had my picture taken in the photo booth, and probably still have the photos somewhere. The point is, I only went because I had given myself the goal to do it. But if I hadn’t been leaving, I probably never would have seen the museum, even though I’d been living in the city for several years. Sometimes, it’s worth it to play tourist a bit in your own town. I actually love to do these activities alone, because it gives me the clarity and silence to absorb everything, to feel grateful for all that I have, and to take stock in where I have been, and where I would like to go.
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*There are some adorable photos of her playing amongst the large scale artworks, seemingly made for a toddler. Perhaps I will find a way to share them on here.
If you’re a lover of stationery and all things related to paper and print, like me, please share your finds! Or if you have other small museums to recommend to me—in any city—I’m all ears.
Thanks, as always, for reading!