Penland 08 - Part 2

The instructor exhibits at the Penland Gallery are always favorites of mine. You get the see the work of teachers that you're working with or with whom you've studied before, or whose work inspires you to consider learning from them in the future. Of course, I'm always drawn first to the work of the book arts instructors, and I took some photos of new work by Dan Essig and Julie Leonard.

The pieces on display were examples of their more sculptural work. As to some of Dan's pieces in particular, I can already hear some viewers asking "so, what makes this a book"? It's a topic that book artists and their audiences have been talking about for many years -- although admittedly, it's the academics who seem the most excited about the dialogue. For me, the more artists' books I experience, the less interesting the question becomes. So I guess we'll have to ask Dan.

Kelly O'Brien at Designing a Life was lucky enough to take Julie's class at Penland in the session before mine (check out some of the work she produced via the prior link). She tells me that Julie invited Dan to the class as a guest artist. Now if I'd only been able to take two classes at Penland this summer instead of one...(sigh).

Check out both Julie's and Dan's work in The Penland Book of Handmade Books.

I like the shadows that these books of Julie Leonard's cast on the walls.

Book of Nails III: Of Thunder, by Dan Essig

Horn Book: Wren, by Dan Essig

detail

N'Kisi Bricolage, by Dan Essig

another view
In each of the three works shown here, Dan's included a perfect, tiny, coptic-bound book (or two). Here it's on the top side of the piece.

detail
Notice the tiny "signatures" and the use of mica to hold the treasures in the compartments/windows.

Julie Chen

Octopus, 1992, Julie Chen. Poem by Elizabeth McDevitt

Julie Chen is a very talented book artist whose work I first saw "in person" in February 2007 in Washington, DC at the National Museum of Women in the Arts. NMWA hosted a wondrous exhibition of artists' books, The Book As Art: Artists' Books from the National Museum of Women in the Arts, that included over 100 works from their collection of more than 800 artists' books. Although there's nothing like seeing the work itself, the exhibition catalog is a delight.

Chen started Flying Fish Press in 1987, and describes it as "dedicated to the design and production of books which combine the quality and craftsmanship of traditional letterpress printing with the innovation and visual excitement of contemporary non-traditional book structures and modern typography. There is an emphasis on book structures which can function both traditionally as books as well as sculpturally as objects to be displayed."

Her work is varied and rich in content, both literally and figuratively, and multi-dimensional. Here are a few examples. Featured in the NMWA exhibit were Octopus, True to Life (not shown here) and Bon Bon Mots. Check out the Gallery page on the Flying Fish Press web site for these and other of Chen's books.

Ode to a Grand Staircase (for four hands),
Julie Chen and Barbara Tetenbaum

Bon Bon Mots, 1998, Julie Chen

Personal Paradigms: A Game of Human Experience, Julie Chen

You Are Here, Julie Chen

Mia Leijonstedt's Books

Mia Leijonstedt is a Finnish artist who creates unique handmade bookbindings and artists' books. See some of her striking work at GalleriaMia. In particular, check out the Unique Books and Book as Art links. Note that to the right of each book image are additional photos that provide book and/or page details.

Thanks to TJBookArts for the lead to Leijonstedt. Check out her site for useful book arts information and links, including her own tutorials.

Warrior Passage, Mia Leijonstedt

"This concertina book consists of double-sided mono prints overlaid with free-hand writing in silver ink and raised abstract symbols in copper dust. The covers of the book are made of two sheets of etched copper with a leather cord."

The Penland Experience - Part 2

I'm still processing (what a clinical word that is!) my two-week book arts workshop at Penland. I signed up for the course because I wanted to explore content in bookmaking. I've been taking bookbinding classes for just over a year now, and I've concentrated on book structures. It seemed the way to lay a foundation in book arts, to build a vocabulary and establish a context. If you know me, it isn't news that I tend to be linear and incremental in my approach to things. So it seems that I've intuitively been developing a personal book arts curriculum over the course of the past year.

From the time I took my first book arts class -- at the John C. Campbell Folk School during a week's vacation more than two years ago -- I've been interested in the book as a whole, both form and content. I knew virtually nothing about artists' books at the time, and the more I learned, the more fascinating I found the concept and the books themselves.

It's too early to know how my own style will evolve. I love language too much to exclude words, so text will play a part. But what else? Who knows? I'm clearly attracted to paint and color and abstract forms. Art & Soul was a way to did my toe in this pool, in ways unrelated to book arts. The Penland workshop was a perfect next step, an opportunity to work on new book structures, but with an equal focus on creating imagery and working with paint.

Our instructor, book artist Laura Wait, has a bold, vivid style that attracted me to her work and to the class. She has a background in conservation, too, so she made it clear first thing that "books have to work!" In other words, technique matters. I knew at that point that I'd come to the right place.

More to come.

Laura Wait with one of her artists' books

Detail from another of Laura's books

Secret Belgian Binding

I'm learning a new binding in a workshop at BookWorks: Secret Belgian binding. Book artist Hedi Kyle is credited with rediscoveing this historic binding, attributed to the Belgians. It uses an exposed sewing to bind the text block to cover boards and a separate spine, with the spine held in place only by the threads passing over and under it. In addition to its beauty, it's considered a very sturdy binding. Laurie Corral, who's teaching the class (she's also BookWorks' founder and director) has paced the class well -- three evenings over three weeks -- so that the students are not rushed and can both learn and enjoy the experience. (In my photo of Laurie, she's cutting paper on BookWorks' massive guillotine, about which I lust, wishing that I could build a room simply to house such a lovely and functional object.)

This week we sewed our text block using tapes (see photo). It was the first time I'd worked with tapes, and I can see the value. It's a lovely, simple stitch, and relaxing to sew, especially in a group. We were joined by Andy Farkas (writer, printmaker and book artist), who was working in the studio, in talking a bit about the definition of an "artist's book." The $64,000 question. (Here's Wikipedia's attempt).

For me, it's a book wherein the content and the form are so closely intertwined that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. Naturally that begs the question of how you define the "book" part of the equation, since an artist's book need not have a traditional book form, so mine is at best a partial description. Andy's definition focused on the work being created in its entirety by the artist. He agreed that content needs to be referenced in a definition, if only to suggest the artist's choice of no content. This started me thinking about whether, in fact, an artist's book can have no content. Or, can a viewer ever look at an artist's book without ascribing content to it? Or to take it further, isn't an artist's intent to omit content itself the content? Better minds than mine are no doubt wrestling -- or ignoring -- questions such as these, so BookGirl will sit it out for now.

The rest of the pix are of a book Laurie made with the SB binding, of the first signature after being sewn onto the tapes (Tyvek strips affixed to the side of the work table with adhesive tape), and of a sewing card with alternate views of the outside and the inside of the binding. I can't wait to hold my finished book in my hands.

Joan Lyons

A few days ago I read an interview with Joan Lyons from 2005. She was the founding coordinator of the seminal Visual Arts Workshop (VSA), an influential publisher of books by artists and photographers, which she founded in the early 70s. Through VSA, she collaborated in the design and production of over 400 artists' books. Reading this was another learning experience for me, since all I knew of Lyons was what I'd gathered from seeing her work in the recent artists' books exhibition at the National Women of Women in the Arts. She's now pursuing her own new work in digital media through photographic works that examine "the evolution of archetypes and myth in contemporary culture." This sounds fascinating -- an example of how the field of book arts (and, in her case, photography too) -- continually expands through technology. I'll keep Googling to see where she's going with it. Here are some of her books.

She's teaching at Penland this summer. Ah, so many classes, so little time (and so few funds with which to pay for them).

Weekend Art Sojourn

I did a fairly impulsive thing this past weekend, flying to Washington, D.C. to catch the last day of the exhibition "20 Years of Artists' Books" at the National Museum of Women in the Arts. I was there when the Museum opened at noon, and walked out at 4:30 pm, inspired and delighted by the experience. In fact, NMWA has a collection of more than 800 artists' books by women artists (108 of them were on view in the exhibition) and is a leader in the promotion of artists' books as an art form. The type and range of books and "book objects" was impressive and instructive (not to mention utterly delicious). I'm waiting for the exhibition catalogue to arrive so that I can savor my favorites again.

In typical student mode, I took notes describing particularly interesting bindings that I might try to replicate, jotted down facts and quotes that intrigued me, and noted the names of artists whose work I'd like to explore further. One irony of the exhibition was that the books on view -- works that are often meant to be touched, as in pages turned -- were either under glass or guarded by "do not touch" signs. Understandable, of course, but also frustrating.

Monday morning I braved the excruciatingly cold weather (the kind of cold that makes you feel like your face is going to crack and fall off) to see the Jasper Johns exhibit at the East Wing of the National Gallery of Art. I was lucky, since it had gone up just a few days earlier. The curators took an interesting approach. They selected four motifs that Johns had used regularly in the first decade of his career (1955-1965) and proposed to show how these motifs (for example, the target and what Johns called the mechanical "device") had evolved and interrelated over this period. I knew very little about Johns' work during this time and I was very glad that I'd trekked in the cold from the Archives Metro Station to the East Wing to see it. I had a feeling at the time that there was a link between what I was seeing and what I'd seen the previous day at the NMWA, and although the feeling has lingered, the connection hasn't declared itself. When the bulb lights up over my head, I'll share the news.

An excellent weekend overall. Not only did I get to indulge my art "jones," but I got to spend time with a dear friend and catch up with a colleague whom I've missed seeing. What more could a BookGirl want in a mini-vacation?

New Beginnings

I've been looking forward to being an Ashevillian for many years -- since the '80s -- and finally managed to get myself here via a combination of wish fulfillment and fortunate circumstance. Two-and-a-half years ago, I took my first book arts class, with Joyce Sievers at the John C. Campbell Folk School, and immediately fell in love with the craft of bookmaking and with the art of artists' books.

We have a wonderful books arts learning center in Asheville, BookWorks, that offers workshops, artist studio space and artist-group meeting space. This and individual teachers I've met in the area have introduced me to a talented community of artists whose interests intersect in the combination of art and the book. It's becoming impossible to separate what I'm learning formally through organized classes and informally from conversations with others who share this same passion.

I don't think it's surprising that someone who loves the written word as much as I do, and the feel of a book in my hand, would gravitate to book arts and to artists' books as an art form. The more I explore, the more astonished I am by the history and by the phenomenal work of artists in the field. How could I not have been aware of all this?