Month: February 2022

Some long term thoughts on the Cleo Skribent Classic Gold fountain pen.

~ rupertarzeian ~ 13 Comments

One of my fun projects of 2021 was to watch every episode of the Columbo detective series, starring the late Peter Falk. There were 69 in all, including two pilots. Such an endeavour lends itself to a double-page spread in a bullet journal, with columns for Series and Episode numbers, episode Titles and a column for any comments on guest stars or plot. It was satisfying to tick them off each week as we made our way through whichever episodes were showing on “5USA”. Spanning decades, they were first aired from 1971 and the last episode was shown in 2003. I have now seen all but one.

Another project was to listen to every one of Elton John’s albums, from those on Spotify. Like many of us, I have enjoyed his music right from the beginning, although not all to my taste. I have seen him live three times: Hammersmith Odeon at Christmas 1974, Highclere Castle in June 2000 and once at Earl’s Court, some time in between. His albums are another bullet journal spread. This is a challenge that I can leave for a while and keep coming back to. I was well aware that I had never heard many of his albums, or had heard only the odd track from them, so I wanted to work systematically through the entire back catalogue. This takes time. It does not do to listen to an album only once. To enjoy and appreciate an album, I need to play it several times and let it get under my skin, otherwise I will have little or no recollection of it.

At the moment, I have got up to The Road to El Dorado, an album of songs from the animated film in 2000. This film and the soundtrack album escaped me completely at the time. There are several great, stand-out tracks which I am greatly enjoying. I have probably played the album over six times and still have no desire to move on.

This brings me to the Cleo Skribent Classic Gold fountain pen. I posted a couple of reviews of my Cleo Skribent fountain pens when I bought them, in 2017 which are listed in my Index of Pen Posts or can be seen from here: Cleo Skribent Classic Gold, Piston fountain pen; first impressions and Cleo Skribent Classic Metal, Piston fountain pen review (about the steel nib version). In the following years, I continued down a path of trying lots of different pens and bought dozens every year. The Cleo Skribent Classic Gold rather got side-lined. However last autumn I tuned the 14k gold nib a little bit, to increase flow and lubrication. It just took a few minutes to open up the tine gap very slightly.

Cleo Skribent Classic Gold, piston filler fountain pen, being useful again.

I then started to enjoy the pen all over again. I used it for the month of December 2021 for my journal, for which I had been switching pen and ink combinations every month. I had intended to start a different pen in January. However, nearly half way through February I still have no desire to change pens. I do have a dozen inked but it is the Cleo Skribent Classic Gold that I reach for each morning for my diary. I also enjoy it for notes and letter writing. It is now on its third fill with Waterman Serenity blue ink since November.

Looking back at my first impressions review five years ago, I was not then aware of whether the nib could be easily removed. I since learned that the nib and feed are friction fit and can be pulled out together quite easily for a more thorough clean or if changing inks, rather than just relying on the piston to flush the nib and feed.

I still love the features that appealed to me then. It is a long, elegant pen, extremely comfortable to hold with a smooth gold nib which has a very pleasing degree of softness on the paper. The glossy black resin of the body looks to me just as “precious” as that found on other more famous, German black fountain pens.

14k gold nib, medium. Small but perfectly formed.

I commented in 2017 that the piston seemed less smooth than in my other pens but that it was too soon to tell how this would stand up over time. Well, the piston is stiff in places. I would very much like to be able to introduce some silicone grease to the inside walls of the ink reservoir, to ease the piston plunger on its travels. I do not think it possible to remove the piston mechanism to grease it outside the pen. (If I am mistaken on this, I will be very pleased to hear from anyone who can put me right).

My only real criticism of the pen is that it does not seem possible to grease the piston. With a Lamy 2000 for instance, you can unscrew the section from the barrel and introduce a little grease to the barrel using a cocktail stick or tooth pick – a useful tip that I saw on a Brian Goulet video. Not so with the Cleo. The barrel does not separate from the section. Even with the nib and feed removed, I have been unable to poke anything through the opening and bend to reach the barrel sides.

Ultimately, if the plunger does become too stiff I fear that the piston shaft could break. I assume that it is plastic, as the pen is so light. Hopefully, being inked regularly with a well behaved ink like Serenity blue will be good for the pen and keep the piston working. That said, it has not happened yet and the pen does have a lifetime warranty. Also, it was not hugely expensive at £129.00 and even if the piston mechanism fails, the nib, feed and cap could all be salvaged.

But the message of today’s post is that, as with an Elton John album, it is ok to get stuck on enjoying one pen. A good fountain pen is like a wonderful view: uplifting and good for the soul, but you do not need to see every one there is.

Black and gold. Never out of fashion.

My Aurora Ipsilon fountain pen and I.

~ rupertarzeian ~ 13 Comments

In recent years I have become a fan of Aurora fountain pens. Certainly my black and gold Aurora 88 with its medium nib and my red Aurora Optima with an oblique broad, are among the most prized in my accumulation. But neither of these was the first Aurora that I had bought. That honour goes to the Ipsilon.

Aurora Ipsilon, marbled blue lacquer.

It is true to say that I did not immediately take to the Ipsilon. The buying experience was memorable and hard to beat. My wife and I were on holiday in Italy in July 2018 staying near Lake Garda and took a bus for a day’s visit to Verona. There I found a delightful fountain pen shop called Manella, in the via Guiseppe Mazzini – a pedestrian thoroughfare in a shopping district and thronged with tourists like myself heading from the stunning Roman amphitheatre, towards the Case di Giulietta, to visit Juliet’s famous balcony from Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet.

The shop was easily spotted by its vintage Pelikan pen sign. Unfortunately it was closed for the day (or so I thought) and I contented myself with looking at the displays in the window and peering into the shady depths of the shop within.

Some hours later, on passing the small shop again, I was thrilled to discover that it was now open and went inside. I asked to see a red Aurora Ipsilon which had caught my eye in the window. The genial proprietor seemed pleased to have a keen customer and I was eager not to leave empty handed! He told me that he had a larger selection in his other shop close by and so locked up this one and took me to see it, in an arcade literally just around a corner but off the beaten track. It was much less cramped and had displays of leather goods as well as pens.

As for the Ipsilon, he recommended a superior version being of lacquered metal and which had a14k gold nib. He showed me a new edition, in a marbled dark blue and black lacquer and with a fine nib, which seemed to tick all the boxes as a suitable souvenir from Italy. I added a Pelikano to my purchases and the proprietor kindly included an orange ball point pen for my wife. Genius.

Aurora nibs are handmade in Turin.

The Ipsilon comes in various different versions. From an old catalogue, I see that the metal lacquered model was also available in a marbled tortoise or grey finish. It is a cartridge converter pen, taking the Aurora proprietary cartridges. A useful tip is that Parker Quink cartridges also fit and are easier to come by. It has a snap on cap, which also posts securely with a polite click, to make a very comfortable package. The pen measures about 137mm closed, 118mm open (slightly short for my preference) but a decent 148mm with cap posted. It weighs about 31 grams, being 19g when uncapped and 12g for the cap alone.

Well matched with Parker Quink blue black cartridges.

After such auspicious beginnings, you would think that I would be delighted with my new Italian fountain pen. However, perhaps for a combination of reasons, I did not bond with it sufficiently in those important early weeks after purchase. On close inspection of the nib under a powerful loupe, I noticed some mystery parallel lines or scratches across the face of the nib. Perhaps it had been held in pliers during or after the plating process. These were only cosmetic and not visible to the naked eye. Secondly I had an unfortunate experience with the included converter, which seemed to be leaking and made a mess. With hindsight, I should have been more systematic in my diagnosis of this problem but I was further put off the pen. Thirdly, and perhaps the biggest issue was that the fine nib was rather on the dry side for my liking. And so, rather embarrassingly, I put the pen away and hardly looked at it for three years.

Fast forwarding to last autumn, by which time I was enjoying my Aurora 88 and Optima, I got out the Ipsilon again. I have been revisiting lesser-used pens and tweaking the nibs with brass shims in some instances, now that I have gathered a little experience and confidence in this area. Often it is a very quick and easy fix to just open up the tine gap very minimally, to improve ink flow, lubrication and smoothness which makes a big difference to your experience with a pen.

I also bought a pack of Parker Quink blue black cartridges (reduced in a sale at WH Smiths) which fit perfectly, removing the risk of leaky converters. The colour is an ideal match for the pen. And the mystery striations on the nib plating no longer bother me at all. There are bigger things to worry about in life.

The net result is that I now have an enjoyable and reliable pen and a trio of Auroras, with fine, medium and oblique broad nibs. It is currently filled and always starts up immediately. The moral of this little tale is not to overlook the bonding phase when you have a precious new fountain pen arrival. But even if you do, all is not lost and you and your pen may still achieve fulfilment at a later stage.

The Aurora Ipsilon, 88 and Optima.