Julie’s brief was this: This project was borne out of the recent sudden death of my father, a handkerchief, some emotive words written by a sibling on his death and the traumatic aftermath of a death processed according to particular societal and cultural mores. Interested artists and Individuals are invited to create an artwork on a hankerchief (any hankerchief not necessarily a man’s) based around death/grief/bereavement and return it to me by end of May, 2010 for inclusion in a collaborative exhibition in June.

I’d just finished a whole body of work centred upon a poem by Rosemary Dobson that I’d accidentally overprinted during the production of her collection, Poems to Hold or Let Go. I worked with the pages in various ways: overprinting them, using origami on them to form sculptural elements, and I thought that this would be a chance to finish the process, to draw a veil across this particular train of thought. I see this as a broadside rather than anything book-related.

I’ve had an old linen hankie in my ‘collection’ box (or one of them, specifically the textiles one) for years — and isn’t it great when things finally find a purpose? I can’t remember if this one has special family significance or if it was given to me by someone… I wouldn’t have bought it. It’s gorgeous, with real handmade lace around the edges.

The text of the poem was transferred from the original letterpress print to the hankie by eucalyptus transfer (which leaves a wonderful lingering scent of eucalyptus, very Australian) and then I used some antique thread to hand-stitch a weeping thread veil over the text. It really is antique — it comes straight off a Victorian-era factory bobbin and has marvellous slubs and stains through it.

The Hankie Project link above gives a post to each entry in the exhibition, which looked wonderful. I’m sure there are plans to travel the works, so it might turn up somewhere near you. If you’re ever in Alstonville, on the far north coast of NSW (an easy daytrip from Brisbane), visit Julie’s gallery, which specialises in artists’ books and print works.

Feel the Fell. Unique artist’s book of letterpress and offset letterpress ink on Chinese roll paper with handsewn whirlwind binding. Text by Gerard Manley Hopkins. Design and production by Ampersand Duck.
Held in the Artspace Mackay Collection, Queensland, Australia.

Feel the Fell was made for my solo show, Pressings, at Megalo in 2009. I often run pieces of paper through my press rollers at the end of the day to remove the excess ink before cleaning, and I keep every piece of paper, because I love the random and beautiful results. They speak to me of the process of printing (especially when I have used packing sheets, and there is overprinted embossed text that is picked up by the ink) and the process is a primary part of the experience of using letterpress, because the final printed product is often so similar to something that can be produced more easily by other printing methods.

Anyway, this piece came together when I was browsing through my high school copy of Norton’s Anthology and my eyes were caught by some lines I’d read years ago and had underlined, and then forgotten:

I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.
What hours, O what black hours we have spent
This night! what sights you, heart, saw; ways you went!
And more must, in yet longer light’s delay.
With witness I speak this. But where I say
Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament
Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent
To dearest him that lives alas! away.

I am gall, I am heartburn. God’s most deep decree
Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me;
Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse.
Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see
The lost are like this, and their scourge to be
As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse.

Gerard Manley Hopkins

And the first lines seemed all I needed to unlock an emotional darkness that the ink seemed perfectly eloquent enough to convey. It’s a very specific poem, but the despair is universal, and so I let the marks do their work.

It’s a lovely piece to look through, and until Artspace Mackay bought it, I encouraged people to use their hands without white gloves to flick through it (and now it is doomed to white-glove-dom forever!). You can see white gloves peeping through some of the images here… After a day or two of having them there, I decided they weren’t necessary, because most of the beauty is in the way the soft paper feels in your hands.

I made a box for it to live in, in which it rolls up like a scroll. The box is covered with a black slubbed bookcloth called Cannapetta, and has hand-stitched detail and ties in black waxed linen thread.

It was also exhibited at the 2010 Libris Awards in Mackay.

I also made a smaller version of this book for a friend who loved it but couldn’t buy the original. That one is also unique, and lives in Melbourne, hopefully being loved and handled. It’s box is recycled from an old bible.

Artist’s book.

Viewed from the side in one of the many possible configurations

Unique letterpress concertina-bound book with removable hard cover and slipcase. c.100 x 100 x 50mm. Canberra: Ampersand Duck, 2005. Private Collection.

I often make small books from the remnants of larger projects, and this is the first of them. Playing with Anna’s Ghosts is a playful book with a concertina binding, removable hard covers and a half-slip wrapper. The title is a pun on the use of typesetting proofs and the contents of the text, which are poetry scraps from the printing of Shared Rooms. The book can be configured in as many ways as the scraps of text can be read.

view from above when arranged in a circle

This is part 4 of 4 posts. For details about the physical aspect of this book and the original premise, go here.

Essentially, this is an on-line recreation of a book consisting of three sets of postcards revolving around a set of short writings by Henri Michaux.

The first set has on one side (the ‘text’ side of a traditional postcard) the official, published translated text. On the other side of each is a collage image inspired by the text.

The second set has on one side the original French; I don’t speak or read French, so I’ve picked out the words that make visual sense as an English speaker and highlighted them. The other side has an English translation of the French, generated by Babelfish, an internet translation program. It’s a weird machine translation, very literal and sometimes completely missing the point.

The third set is highly personal. The images are drawn using ink, gouache and gold paint and then partially erased. The text is hand-written, using my own experiences, and echoing Michaux’s text without imitating it. These were written in 2000, four years before I thought about blogging — but you can see why I took to blogging so happily.

There are 12 pieces of writing in ‘I am writing to you from a far-off country’. I have arranged all the postcards into twelve sections, so that you can see the sets in the way they were meant to be viewed. The second batch, postcards II-IV are below, showing fronts and backs. If you like them and wish to read them all, they are divided over four  blog posts: I, II-IV, V-VIII, IX-XII.

IX

X

XI

XII

This is part 3 of 4 posts. For details about the physical aspect of this book and the original premise, go here.

Essentially, this is an on-line recreation of a book consisting of three sets of postcards revolving around a set of short writings by Henri Michaux.

The first set has on one side (the ‘text’ side of a traditional postcard) the official, published translated text. On the other side of each is a collage image inspired by the text.

The second set has on one side the original French; I don’t speak or read French, so I’ve picked out the words that make visual sense as an English speaker and highlighted them. The other side has an English translation of the French, generated by Babelfish, an internet translation program. It’s a weird machine translation, very literal and sometimes completely missing the point.

The third set is highly personal. The images are drawn using ink, gouache and gold paint and then partially erased. The text is hand-written, using my own experiences, and echoing Michaux’s text without imitating it. These were written in 2000, four years before I thought about blogging — but you can see why I took to blogging so happily.

There are 12 pieces of writing in ‘I am writing to you from a far-off country’. I have arranged all the postcards into twelve sections, so that you can see the sets in the way they were meant to be viewed. The second batch, postcards II-IV are below, showing fronts and backs. If you like them and wish to read them all, they are divided over four  blog posts: I, II-IV, V-VIII, IX-XII.

V

VI

VII

VIII

Essentially, this is an on-line recreation of a book consisting of three sets of postcards revolving around a set of short writings by Henri Michaux.

The first set has on one side (the ‘text’ side of a traditional postcard) the official, published translated text. On the other side of each is a collage image inspired by the text.

The second set has on one side the original French; I don’t speak or read French, so I’ve picked out the words that make visual sense as an English speaker and highlighted them. The other side has an English translation of the French, generated by Babelfish, an internet translation program. It’s a weird machine translation, very literal and sometimes completely missing the point.

The third set is highly personal. The images are drawn using ink, gouache and gold paint and then partially erased. The text is hand-written, using my own experiences, and echoing Michaux’s text without imitating it. These were written in 2000, four years before I thought about blogging — but you can see why I took to blogging so happily.

There are 12 pieces of writing in ‘I am writing to you from a far-off country’. I have arranged all the postcards into twelve sections, so that you can see the sets in the way they were meant to be viewed. The second batch, postcards II-IV are below, showing fronts and backs. If you like them and wish to read them all, they are divided over four  blog posts: I, II-IV, V-VIII, IX-XII.

II

III

IV

Digital images, laserprinted text, pen, ink and gold paint on paper, custom perspex cover. Unique, Canberra: Editioning & Artists Book Studio, NITA, 2000. Currently with Arki von Optropp, Artist’s Book Dealer, Sydney.

Sorry, this is the only formal image I have of the boxed set!

Made during my visual art degree, when I was having a major crush on the writings of Henri Michaux. This is a work about translation. Henri Michaux was French, but there are debates on how French his French was, as he played merry hell with the rules. This set of writings is arranged as one side of a correspondence, and I extended this to include my own explorations into the text.

I made three sets of postcards, and they are all included below, since my unique copy seems to have disappeared with a dealer I haven’t heard from for years, and I spent a lot of time thinking about this project and would like to look at it more often myself.

The first set has on one side (the ‘text’ side of a traditional postcard) the official, published translated text. On the other side of each is a collage image inspired by the text.

The second set has on one side the original French; I don’t speak or read French, so I’ve picked out the words that make visual sense as an English speaker and highlighted them. The other side has an English translation of the French, generated by Babelfish, an internet translation program. It’s a weird machine translation, very literal and sometimes completely missing the point.

The third set is highly personal. The images are drawn using ink, gouache and gold paint and then partially erased. The text is hand-written, using my own experiences, and echoing Michaux’s text without imitating it. These were written in 2000, four years before I thought about blogging — but you can see why I took to blogging so happily.

There are 12 pieces of writing in ‘I am writing to you from a far-off country’. I have arranged all the postcards into twelve sections, so that you can see the sets in the way they were meant to be viewed. The first set is below. If you like them and wish to read them all, they are divided over three more blog posts: II-IV, V-VIII, IX-XII.

I

I gave an account of the exhibition opening at my personal blog.

Exhibition statement:

I have a burning desire not to waste materials, and my personal artist’s books are made from paper or other materials left over from more formal projects. Many of my unique books are made from the print proofs, ghosts or off-cuts of commissioned letterpress work. I make them as a souvenir of a collaboration, or as an extension of themes that run through the text I’ve been working upon.

I am an avid reader and chronic daydreamer; I often spend so much time with the words and images of a single book project that it is refreshing to rework them in a different, more playful context, which allows me to extend my appreciation of the original text beyond the realms of the traditional page layout.

I also like to trawl second-hand book sales and rescue under-appreciated books to rework them into something people might value again. I might use the title and/or cover of vintage novels to begin new stories that the viewer can continue in their own imagination. In any case, my working methods seem perfectly in tune with a world that is once again recognising the need to re-use and recycle as a cultural process.

Selected works from the show:

Grieving: Let Go, 2009. installation of folded original letterpress pages
(from Poems to Hold or Let Go) and a vintage book spine.

Nightladders: After, 2009. Vintage book cover,
concertina papercut from offset-ink press proof pages.

Nightladders: Escape (detail), 2009. Vintage book cover,
papercut from offset-ink press proof pages.

Nightladders: Escape (detail), 2009. Vintage book cover,
papercut from offset-ink press proof pages.

Me, Like a River, 2009. Concertina flag book of
letterpress offcuts from the book Shared Rooms.

Never Kill a Dolphin, 2009, from the series ‘Jetsom’. Clamshell box from vintage book cover,
lined with the book’s illustrations. [sold: private collection]

Exhibition statement:

I have a burning desire not to waste materials, and my personal artist’s books are made from paper or other materials left over from more formal projects. Many of my unique books are made from the print proofs, ghosts or off-cuts of commissioned letterpress work. I make them as a souvenir of a collaboration, or as an extension of themes that run through the text I’ve been working upon.

I am an avid reader and chronic daydreamer; I often spend so much time with the words and images of a single book project that it is refreshing to rework them in a different, more playful context, which allows me to extend my appreciation of the original text beyond the realms of the traditional page layout.

I also like to trawl second-hand book sales and rescue under-appreciated books to rework them into something people might value again. I might use the title and/or cover of vintage novels to begin new stories that the viewer can continue in their own imagination. In any case, my working methods seem perfectly in tune with a world that is once again recognising the need to re-use and recycle as a cultural process.

The following are in-progress shots. Go here for in situ photographs.

Opening on 14 May at 6pm, Books to Hold or Let Go showcases Australian and international binders working with the text of Ampersand Duck’s fine press publication Poems to Hold or Let Go by Rosemary Dobson and Rosalind Atkins. The exhibition will run until 20 June, and associated events (floor talks or readings) are being negotiated.

Poems to Hold or Let Go is a 56pp volume printed using photopolymer plate and boxwood wood engravings on 125gsm rag mould-made Magnani Vergata laid paper. The binders have received the book in sheet form (folded but unsewn), and it is totally up to them what they will make of the cover. To see the original volume, go here. I am really looking forward to seeing what everyone comes up with!

I have asked participating artists to send me images of their work in progress, so watch this post as I add to it over the next couple of months.

First up is Sydney bookbinder Barbara Schmelzer, who has decided to do a German vellum binding and is sharing images of her preparations to  airbrush the vellum:

Next is Mia Leijonstedt, who is one of our international binders: She is Finnish, but working from the United Arab Emirates. Mia’s contribution to the exhibition will be a soft cover binding with “long-stitch” structure. According to her:

Most often long-stitch bindings leave the sewing showing on the spine but this will be covered. The base cover is maroon goat skin laminated with silky fabric and the onlays will be dyed parchment.

Showing the general colour scheme of the binding and the preparations for sewing –
soft leather cover laminated and folded, endpapers dyed and trimmed.

A close up of book just before sewing.

Book sewn with white thread in long-stitch style. Thread dyed black on the spine side.

Front cover of the binding open, showing the doublure laminate and endpaper.

Preparing to cover the sewing with dyed strips of parchment
that will also form the basis of the binding’s final design.

Next we look at a few images showing some of South Australian binder Mark Gilbert’s planning processes:

Mark’s been drawing up his ideas…

Making maquettes and practising his blocking…

… And is now fully into production.

Lorraine Brown,  formerly of Sydney but now working from Queensland, is still working on her cover design, but so far the book is sewn on 5 cords (each cord being 3 ply unbleached linen yarn, wound 3 times to create a 9 ply cord) using waxed linen thread, and the endpapers are Canson Ingres Vidalon cream 100 gsm plus a decorative paper. Here’s a shot of the sewing:

Lorraine is sewing onto cords using a sewing frame.

There are a number of ‘alternate’ bindings emerging as well. Printmaker Lee Bratt, of Canberra, has constructed a concertina format for her book sheets:

A view from above. The poem pages are removable.

A detail of the front panel, featuring one of Lee’s prints.

Genevieve Swifte, also from Canberra, is working on a very conceptual version of the book. Here is her initial ‘promotional’ image:

whets the appetite, somewhat, doesn’t it?

It’s very exciting, seeing all these ‘tasters’. Here’s more:

“The wooden boards having been cut to size. Next step is cord attachment and sewing…”

Victorian bookbinder Elke Ahokas’s book is bound in a Carolingian style. The covers are of Victorian Coobah (Acacia salicina) which will be oiled. The text block is sewn onto hemp cords using waxed linen thread.

“The front cover, un-oiled as yet….”

Dario Castello is the president of the ACT Bookbinders’ Guild. Here’s a peek at his work:

a detail of the front cover

Joy Tonkin, of Book Arts Canberra is preparing an exposed sewing technique in the style of Jean de Gonet’s binding.

The book is sewn onto snake skin tapes.  The hollow-back spine is covered in oasis leather.  The boards are a wood veneer with polycarbonate and leather onlay decorations.  The endpapers are hand-made papers from Nepal.   The book is housed in a box made from hand-made papers, lined in suede, and titled in kangaroo leather on the spine.

Linda Newbown is also from Canberra:

an open-book view of Linda’s binding.

Linda says:

Laced-in binding. Vellum spine, paper boards, kid leather (from found glove). Bound 2009.
Binders hold the printed pages momentarily. We bind the pages so that you may more easily hold them. The bindings will show signs and marks from the binders’ hand. We have held these pages and now let them go.

Less than six weeks until the opening! Watch this space!