Book Arts Tuesday-Book Play to Celebrate Autumn

I just made the flyer for my upcoming Book Play workshop at the Newburyport Public Library for adults at the Newburyport Public Library. I love autumn. It will be such fun to make books to celebrate the season. These are the stick and elastic books but tied with jute and string instead of using an elastic. I'll bring sticks and leaves for rubbing but am also encouraging participants to gather and bring their own. As is the case with all Book Play workshops, I'll guide everyone throught the construction step-by-step and then there will be time to play with leaf rubbings, collage paper, and quotes. I look forward to sharing some of the books at the end of the month.

65th Year Part 2

If I am going to figure out the next step, I need to start with the basic question: do I need to? If my goal is to “Take joy!” and I experience it while I am at work in the studio, is that enough? Not, do I need to do it because that’s what artists do. Not, do I need to do it because that is what I have been doing for the last 35 years. Not, do I need to do it because it makes spending all that time working alone in the studio socially acceptable and comprehensible to others. But, do I, at the core of my being, need to take my work beyond its creation? Do I need for it to be out in the world?

From the beginning, there was definitely some part of me that was drawn to put the work out there. My calligraphic pieces started with my love of the words that I was writing—passages and quotes and poems that spoke to me. While I often had misgivings about the quality of my presentation, I always had faith in the words. I wanted others to experience them and I interpreted them in the best way I could. 

In my early years of calligraphy, I got involved in an artists’ coop, Art Alive!, in Lowell, MA. In retrospect, I see how important it was in my development as an artist. I started on what can be a solitary journey with a group of like-minded and supportive friends and colleagues. I had a comfortable venue for showing my work and it was easy for me to get into a rhythm of making work and then showing it. So easy that I never questioned it. It was just what one did.  

In 1986, I created Childbirth Journey—15 abstract pastel drawings with calligraphy of journal entries written during my pregnancy, after the birth of my first child by Cesarian section, and his early months. Looking back, I am surprised at how fiercely I felt the need to share the work. I had an exhibition at the Newburyport Art Association (again the value of local art organizations to provide a platform for artists). It was my first experience with presenting such personal work. It was both exhilarating and difficult. “Too much information” had not become part of the language yet, but many viewers would have said it if they could have. 

Since Childbirth Journey, my art has become less about my personal story. I am more inclined to share my thoughts and feelings in writing instead. In my art, I have sought to deepen my connection with the natural world by working with natural materials. The consistent thread since 1992 has been The Spirit Books, wordless handmade books that rest in cradles of wood, roots, and vines. While I don’t have that mysterious burning desire to show it to people, I do take great pleasure in sharing it. The joy is there. The answer is yes. 

Whispered Fragments II: Emily Dickinson

On August 9th, I wrote a post about the beginning of the process of creating this installation for the Flying Horse Outdoor Sculpture Exhibit at the Pingree School in Hamilton, MA.  Here is the description from the catalog:

Whispered Fragments II contains lines from the poems of Emily Dickinson chosen for the beauty, freshness, and crystalline ambiguity of her language, lines to both say out loud and let echo silently in the mind. The presentation of the fragments of poems fluttering on the trees is inspired by a Japanese tradition of hanging slips of poetry from tree branches. 

On August 19th, with the help of my son (actually he did all the work of hanging and I directed), the 81 strips were hung from four crabapple trees. The installation was not successfully concluded until September 23. Except for the lettering, I have completely redone every step of the process twice and some five times. I hope that reading about it will not be as interminable as it felt to do it. 

I did the first Whispered Fragments for Maudslay Outdoor Sculpture in 2008 using lines from John Greenleaf Whittier and lettering with a sharpie marker on tyvek strips. This time I wanted the lettering and the presentation to be a little more formal. I wrote on paper so I could use pen and ink and then covered it with a clear mylar. I experimented with writing horizontally or vertically. The way the words had to be broken up to fit horizontally made a vertical representation a better choice. The words are actually more legible even if you do have to tilt your head. And once again, a thank you to Mike Gold for his workshop at Masscribes. My lettering continues to loosen and become more free thanks to him.

I did a binding of sorts on the top with wood and thread and attached it to a small ring which was then attached to the branch with a tie wrap. I did a test in my yard but it turned out the actual location was much windier. What worked fine at home did not work well there. 

My first problem was with the strength of the cord and the security of the knots. My first go round was with waxed linen thread. At least half broke off within a few days. Next I tried imitation sinew. It held but the knots came undone. While I was working on the next solution, I discovered another problem. The mylar covering was not protective enough and water was seeping in.

I only did two smart things in this whole process. One was to scan the lettering before putting the mylar on. The other to follow up on a chance encounter with Josh DeVries, a printer who owns The Scarlet Letter Press in Salem, MA while I was working on the piece at the school. He spoke of how much better the encapsulation would be if it were laminated. Ten minutes after he left (and fortunately gave me his card), I called him on his cell and he came back and we planned the job. I prepared the scanned lettering; he printed, cut, and laminated the strips. Here’s Josh trimming:

After I got the laminated strips, I started all over again with new wood. I cut it with the paper cutter, spray varnished the pieces,

attached the wood to both sides of the top of the strips with double-stick tape,

and marked and then drilled 3 holes in each.

For the binding I tried catfish line and new knot used by fisherman taught to me by Paul Lovasco.

Nice try, but they started coming down in short order. The knots quickly unknotted in the wind. And keep in mind that for every one of these steps we are talking 81 strips.

At long last (why didn't I think of this sooner? you may ask), I decided that string and knots were not working. I still had fishing gear on my mind and went to Surfland Bait & Tackle on Plum Island. They pondered my problem and came up with a great solution. It only took care of the center hole so I bound the edges at the other two holes with wire.

The installation is up. I visited it this morning and it looked beautiful in the early morning light. The opening reception is tomorrow, September 26 at 11 AM. The exhibition continues until November 22. 

I'm trying to determine the lesson here. I obviously should have given up on the knots sooner. I allowed myself to get completely stuck on one idea when I should have rethought the basic premise. I ended up in a battle with the elements. I should have acknowledged their power and adapted sooner. Next time, if there is one. 

May the softness of autumn embrace and support you.

Book Arts Tuesday-Tokyo Bookstore

I am fascinated by this—a bookstore in Tokyo that sells only one title per week. It's profiled on ebookfriendly.com and here's how it's introduced:

Don’t you sometimes go to a bookstore, and in the end can’t decide which book to buy, because there are so many of them you desperately want to read?

There is one bookstore in the world where you won’t have this problem. It’s Morioka Shoten Ginza (Morioka Bookstore in Ginza). It offers for sale one title for six continuous days, from Tuesday to Sunday. Every evening an event is organized to discuss the book and connect its author with readers.

For more information go to Tokyo bookstore on ebookfriendly.com

My 65th Year-Part 1

This is the first of several upcoming posts of my reflections on my art and its place in my life as I enter my 65th year. As I’ve mentioned before, I take stock of my life and make resolutions for my birthday rather than the new year. This year’s birthday, when I turned 64, took on extra significance. I can thank the Beatles for part of it. As a teenager, the age of 64 stuck in my mind from their lilting tune of “Will you still love me, will you still need me when I’m 64?” 64 represented a transition into another chapter of life more than any other number. 

There are other things that have affected me this past year. Helping my mother-in-law as she transitioned from her own home to a senior living facility has been very difficult in many ways. Experiencing the consequences of her diminishing capacities has made me think about aging in a more immediate way. I want to make the most out of the time I have with good health and mind and also prepare myself for growing old with grace and acceptance. 

In the media, I find the frequent stories of people retiring and reinventing themselves frustrating. They are being celebrated for embarking on second, often more creative than their first, chapters. I feel like I am still trying to get my first one going. While I am so lucky to have been able to spend so much of my life as an artist, I haven’t felt that I have been rewarded in a worldly sense in proportion to my efforts. For all my writing and thinking about the topic, I am still working on how to define success as an artist.

Two years ago I wrote Art Lessons: Reflections From An Artist’s Life. I intentionally focused on my personal relationship with my work and what it had to teach me. I felt that there was a little knot of hardness somewhere in my heart and I hoped the writing would help to loosen it. By the end of the book, after thinking and writing about self-criticism, perfection, letting go of other people’s expectations and my own interpretation of them, and feeling like my work had to be hard to be of value, I embraced the words of Fra Giovanni Giacondo in 1513: “Take joy!”

In these past two years, many elements of my work have become more free. I have come back to calligraphy with a new sense of openness and confidence. In the studio I have had many moments of pure joy. But that little knot of hardness is still alive although diminished. I now realize that it is the next phase, the one I just as intentionally left out of that little book—the putting of my work out into the world—that is holding me back. I need to tackle that if my 65th year and beyond can be what I want it to be. 

I am an optimist and I like to interact with the world as an optimist. I’ve been feeling all this for a while but didn’t want to share my discontent without a sense that there was a way out of it. I now feel like there is. More next week.

Today is...

Being 64 seems particularly significant as that was the number that signified old age when I was young—when you would worry if someone would still love you, when you would retire to a cottage in the Isle of Wight if it's not too dear. My birthday is always when I evaluate my life and make my resolutions rather than the new year. I've been doing a lot of thinking over these past few weeks and  I look forward to sharing my goals for my teaching and my work and especially my attitude over the next weeks for Studio Sunday.

Blog Giveaway-Traveling Shoes

I had fun making lettering on these paper inserts that came in a pair of new shoes. I've enjoyed them on my desk and now it's time for them to walk on. If you'd like them to saunter on over to you, please leave a comment. Don't forget to include your email address. If you're the winner, I need to be able to get in touch. The giveaway will close at midnight on the 17th.

Book Arts Tuesday-Alex Appella on Giving Bookmaking Workshops

Alex Appella lives and works in Cordoba, Argentina. We have connected over our love of teaching bookmaking. She has been a supporter of my work and I have the greatest respect for hers.

She has posted a wonderful blog post about giving bookmaking workshops. I want you to read her post so I won't share too much here. But here's taste:

3. Combining the binding technique you are presenting with creative expression makes for powerful workshops.

It empowers and enables people to express themselves in new and diverse ways.

Júan learned Japanese Stabbinding and created his own guide to insects found in the high sierras of central Argentina. 2005.

Josefina also learned Japanese Stabbinding and used it to tell about mining practices and traditions in Southern Bolivia. 2003.

7. No matter where you are, use tools and materials that are easily available to the students so that afterwards they can keep making books without getting frustrated or feeling inadequate.

(Bookbinding Workshop for Teachers at CEDILIJ*. 2013. Cordoba, Argentina 
*Center for Promotion of Libraries and Reading in Schools. Non-profit.)

How To Give Bookbinding Workshops by Alex Appella

Rosh Hashanah

Happy New Year!

The blog is on holiday until September 15. Enjoy the Labor Day weekend. We're off to Boothbay Harbor, Maine for the weekend.