Book-a-Day: Day 4

I've been moving -- slowly, I know -- through the products of my BookWorks class with Dan Essig. On the fourth day (this series is beginning to sound like an installment from Genesis) our focus was a concertina binding. Think of it as one, long continuous spine-guard that covers the spine-edge of each signature. The concertina adds particular strength to the binding. Folding the concertina EXACTLY is one of the challenges of making this book. In the photo to the right you can see the folds of the concertina between each signature.

It's not an easy binding to stitch, since you're trailing the concertina while you're attaching each signature, but it gets easier with practice (and, of course, as you keep attaching signatures, the remaining amount of concertina lessens). We used a coptic stitch with bent needles. Dan doesn't like curved needles, but straight needles don't do the job, so we softened the metal of our needles over a candle flame and bent the ends at a 45% angle with pliers. Personally, I love curved needles for coptic bindings.

The cover was attached in a style very similar to the one we used for the papyrus book on Day Two. With this fourth book, when we covered the front and back cover-boards with paper, we left a "flap" on each cover on the spine side. We sewed through the inside fold of each flap, treating the cover like another signature. We used Cave paper for our covers, so it was strong enough to withstand being sewn through. If you were using a lighter-weight paper, you'd want to reinforce the area with a material such as Tyvek, which is strong and thin.

We also practiced making insets in the cover (indentations made by lifting layers of board with an exacto knife before we covered the boards). I adhered leftover bits of paper I'd painted and used for signatures in an earlier book.

Dan's primer on concertina-folding

We had great fun, but worked pretty intensely too.

X-Files Redux

I was a big fan of The X-Files when it went on the air in 1993. I'm not a fan of science fiction, but I appreciated the premise -- rare for a tv show -- that the two main characters, a man and a woman, could work together as equals without the usual "will they or won't they" love-interest storyline. Credit Chris Carter, the show's creator and main writer, for that. Dana Scully (played by Gillian Anderson), probably the more complex of the two leads, was smart, strong, ambitious, independent, reserved, and caring. She and her partner, Fox Mulder (David Duchovny), treated each other with respect, and as they continued to work together, they developed a strong sense of loyalty to each other (and, granted, you did hope that they would get together).

I was less interested in the running story about a government conspiracy and an alien settlement on earth than I was in the individual stories and how Mulder and Scully dealt with the situations and with each other. I stopped watching about four years into the show, after I moved to a new city and gave up my VCR. The show ran for nine seasons, and Time magazine named it among the 100 best television shows of all-time.

I also liked that Mulder was the "believer" and Scully the skeptic. She was a medical doctor and grounded in science; Mulder was a criminal profiler and went on intuition. This, too, played counter to the usual boy-girl scenarios and stereotypes. When Scully became convinced that Mulder was right, we, as her surrogates, believed it too.

A couple of months ago I discovered that the SciFi Channel was re-running the series. I started Tivo-ing the episodes I hadn't seen, and stacking them up for later viewing. Every once in a while I watch one, and it's a treat. Most episodes were very dark, but once in a while Chris Carter, with a big wink, would throw in a comic episode: Mulder and Scully spend Christmas Eve in a haunted house with ghosts; an obnoxious guy takes over Mulder's body and comes on to Scully, and "Mulder" plays the De Niro "you talkin to me?" scene from Taxi Driver in front of his mirror.

All in all, for a show about aliens, conspiracies, and UFOs, it was remarkably grown-up.

Book-a-Day: Day 3

We made a book with mica covers on the third day of Dan Essig's Book-a-Day class at BookWorks. This may have been my favorite book of the week. One reason is the binding, called a french link stitch. It's the same binding I've used in Secret Belgian Binding books. The difference is that in the latter, it's hidden by the spine that's added to the book before binding the spine and the covers to the book. The french link is a gorgeous stitch, and it's good to see it recognized here for its aesthetic qualities as well as its functional ones. The book is fairly delicate -- you wouldn't want to throw it into your backpack -- but stronger than it looks.

We used large sheets of mica, a bit thicker than the usual mica I've used in the past. Dan buys it in large quantities locally from a company that supplies large corporations with huge amounts of the stuff. We sewed over Tyvek tapes (which we'd painted with acrylics first). We sandwiched images in between each cover (each cover made up of two sheets of mica) and tucked the ends of the tapes in between the images, gluing them in.

a better view of the french link binding

a sample book Dan made for another of his mica-book classes

One of Dan's books, showing another way to use mica. Here it helps encapsulate an object.

Book-a-Day: Day 2

The book for Day 2 in Dan Essig's Book-a-Day class (see my earlier post for more about the class) was a small papyrus book with a coptic binding. To make each cover we adhered a sheet of papyrus to cardboard, then folded it in half. (You can use heavyweight card-stock or light-weight board instead of the cardboard.)

We treated the covers as signatures, sewing through the fold in each cover. At the end, we glued the sides of each cover together. For a papyrus book I made in another of Dan's classes, we laminated 8 sheets of papyrus together, omitting the cardboard altogther, then folded the laminated sheets in half.

Leaving each cover open until the end has several advantages. You can pierce the outer side of each cover to sew in a button or bead (front cover) and tie in a thread or cord (back cover) to wrap around your button for a closure. If you have sufficient thread after you tie off your binding, you can also bring the thread through the back cover and use it as the tie for your closure. And you can cut a window in your front cover and put an image behind it, sandwiched between the two parts of the cover.

Are you thoroughly confused yet?

I used a piece of mica on the cover over the image, running PVA along the inside edges to secure it. It makes the book a bit more delicate, since the mica is raised above the cover, but I like the look.

I learned a couple of interesting things about papyrus during the class: first, papyrus is not paper; it's wood -- essentially, very thin plywood; second, it has no grain. By nature, it wrinkles and buckles when it encounters moisture (such as PVA), which to me is part of its charm.

The book is small -- a little more than 3 inches high and about 2 1/2 inches wide.

Peeking through the window is a tiny scrap from a map of Rome.

Dan cutting a window in the book's cover.

Book-a-Day: Day 1

What could be better if you love book arts than a week spent making books? Well, perhaps a week spent making books with a terrific book artist and great teacher. I'm fortunate to live in book artist Dan Essig's home town and just as lucky to have access to BookWorks, a wonderful book arts center, where Dan taught a "Book-a-Day" workshop this past week. About half of the students came from out-of-town, and most of those from outside the state, fairly typical for Dan's workshops.

Dan is best known for his books in wood and for his sculptural works (see The Penland Book of Handmade Books -- that's Dan's book on the cover), but this class covered books made with paper, papyrus, leather and mica, employing various bindings.

Here are some pix from Day 1. The book's cover houses two text blocks. It's not a dos-a-dos (a book that contains two text blocks, each text block having its own cover and the two books sharing a back cover); instead, the two books face in the same direction, and fold over each other. Each text block is attached to the spine with a long-stitch binding. We used paper made by papermaker Anne Marie Kennedy. It's wonderful, strong paper that behaves very much like leather, which makes it perfect for this fold-around cover.

Dan has tools, such as awls, available for sale. Some he's made, others are made by book artists and master toolmakers such as Jim Croft.

Above and below: two "bonus" long-stitch books from Dan's collection.

Ice Storm

We had an ice storm a week ago. It's hard to believe that something so beautiful can be so dangerous. We have a lot of trees on our property, and at first blush, seeing them covered with ice is magical. But the weight of the ice on the trees can do a great deal of damage. Smaller trees can bend and break; branches of larger trees can split off; and larger, rotting trees can come crashing down.

One of our trees did, in fact, come down. Luckily, it came down over our driveway and not our house. One of our neighbors, who is a builder, came by with his crew (and a power saw) and cleared the driveway and cut the tree into firewood for us. We're fortunate to have such good neighbors.

The second, equally magical phase of an ice storm takes place when the sun comes out. The sun made the ice glisten on the trees. The sound was a little frightening, as chunks of ice slipped from the trees and fell to the ground and onto our deck. Two days after the storm, we had temperatures in the low 70s. Go figure.

The weight of the ice can bend small trees and branches precariously

The ice built up to a diameter of a half-inch. An amazing sight.

The tree that crashed down over our driveway.

The sun starts coming out. Pretty magical, isn't it?

Recent Books

Before Christmas, I spent several days making books -- for one, I borrowed a form that I learned in my very first class in book arts, called a "Spine Surprise;" for another, I used the covers of a lovely old book in French that I'd had on my shelf for over a year; for a third, I re-discovered a sheet of paper that was perfect for a "puppy journal." (I'm still not sure what a puppy journal is, , but as the owner of a new puppy, I knew I had to make one!)

The Spine Surprise book is an accordion-style book with signatures on both sides. One side has pockets and and a signature pamphlet-stitched into the center fold; the reverse side contains two signatures, one in each corresponding folds. The book is secured it with an elastic band.

The other books are coptic-stitched. I used a four-needle binding and combined two different colors of waxed linen thread.

A Year's Reading: Part Deux

Yes, I did say in my last post that I was only listing "some" of the books I most enjoyed reading last year, but when I looked over my reading list again, I felt guilty about not mentioning a few more favorites:

The Places in Between is a book I likely wouldn't have read had it not been a selection of my book club. It turned out to be one of my favorites of the year. Rory Stewart, the author, is a Scot and a former British diplomat who was posted to the Middle East. The book is a recounting of his walk across Afghanistan. Some of the members of my book club thought the book too slow and some thought it a failing that Stewart didn't tell us "what to think" about what we were reading. I thought the book's pace and style fit the content precisely, and Stewart's even-handed way of describing what he encountered on his trip actually said a great deal.

I read T.R. Pearson's first book, A Short History of a Small Place, years ago. It was a wonderful discovery for me, and I've been reading Pearson every since. A Short History had a voice I'd never heard before (you'll either like this or you won't), and was very, very funny. Cry Me a River is a very different type of book. What Pearson's fictions shares, 'though, is his ear for language and his eye for character.

This year I read more "how-to" art-related books than usual. One I recommend highly is Steve Meltzer's Photographing Arts, Crafts and Collectibles. In addition to learning about photographing the subject matter, the book answered a lot of questions for me about photography in general.

I feel better now that I've told you about these... Happy reading!

Artist Credit: Reading Woman (c. 1670), by Pieter Janssen Elinga

A Year's Reading

Here's the list of the books I read in 2007. I've been keeping reading lists for as long as I can remember. I'm not quite sure why, other than to stay focused on reading, and to refer to when someone asks me for a recommendation. But it's also a good way to look back with a bit of distance to see which books left an impression, and which I might have done without.

It's a reminder, too, of the truth of the "so many books, so little time" adage. And that, even among those books I was able to read, so few left a significant mark -- books that I remember months later and still get excited about.

Some of these include Patricia Hampl's Blue Arabesque, a quiet, meditative book about art and artists (this was the first book I'd read by her and it won't be the last); The Mystery Guest, an odd little book (by Gregoire Bouillier) about....well, about the narrator's former romantic relationship, a bottle of wine, a party, and his role as the party's "mystery guest." It's much more, and perhaps much less, than that. I liked it a lot. Truth and Beauty, by Ann Patchett, is about her relationship with her close friend, the writer Lucy Grealy (see Autobiography of a Face). Patchett is a wonderful writer, and her description of her friendship with Grealy is alternately fascinating and infuriating, but always heartfelt and honest.

I'd never read Sharon McCrumb, but found The Ballad of Frankie Silver strangely affecting, perhaps because the setting is the mountain towns of North Carolina, where I live. The novel is based on the true story of the first woman executed (for murder) in the state. McCrumb is a terrific story-teller. Another favorite was Charles Baxter's The Feast of Love. I'd been hearing about this novel for years, but got around to reading it only recently. It's full of characters you want to know more about, and permeated throughout with a feeling of magic. It made me want to know Charles Baxter better, too. I enjoyed Balzac and the Little Chinese Princess, by Dai Sijie, a lovely story of two Chinese boys who are sent to work in a rural area of China during the Cultural Revolution. And I liked Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love. It was only after I finished the book that I remembered having read a novel of hers on a lark a couple of years ago, Stern Men, only a little about lobster men in Maine, that I'd much enjoyed.

Of the books I re-read, I fell in love again with E.M. Forster's Howard's End and My Antonia by Willa Cather. I admit that it was hard to read Howard's End this time without seeing Emma Thompson as Margaret Schlegel (Emma played Margaret in the film based on the book). No doubt that added to my enjoyment, but on its own it's a beautifully layered book. My Antonia was a lyrical journey. I don't remember being very excited about it the first time I read it (come to think of it, that was probably in high school or college). I'm convinced that a major part of the reading experience is the reader's readiness. They say that timing is everything, and it certainly applies to reading. Which is why re-reading, years after you first read a book, can yield such great rewards.

What did I not like? Well, perhaps the worst books are those that I think of as the equivalent of Chinese food: moments after you've finished them, you've forgotten them and are hungry for a real book. Usually, though, all's well while you're reading. To extend the metaphor, they're a little like comfort food. As to what I plodded through, The Mists of Avalon, by Marion Zimmer Bradley, a book I read for a book club, and My Name is Red, another book club read, top my list. They're very different books of course, and Orhan Pamuk received the Nobel Prize for his body of work recently. I found My Name is Red to be terribly repetitive, as if Pamuk wanted to make sure that the reader GOT THE POINT. The Mists of Avalon, which I understand is a huge favorite of many and a cult book of sorts, was also repetitive (and very, very, very long). But more than that, it wasn't much fun, and a book about the Arthurian legend (told from a feminine -- and feminist -- perspective) should be fun. Instead, it was preachy and pretentious.

I'm already into my reading for 2008 and looking forward to great new finds and some classic favorites. Happy reading in 2008!

My 2007 Reading

• The Handmaid's Tale - Margaret Atwood
• Photographing Arts, Crafts and Collectibles - Steve Meltzer
  
• The Feast of Love - Charles Baxter
  
• The Tenant of Wildfell Hall - Ann Bronte
  
• The Brontes at Haworth - Ann Dinsdale
  
• The Man Who Smiled - Henning Mankell
  
• Howard's End - E.M. Forster
  
• Lord Jim - Joseph Conrad
  
• Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
  
• The Mists of Avalon - Marion Zimmer Bradley
  
• The Tattoo Artist - Jill Ciment
  
• Dead Clever - Scarlett Thomas
  
• The Ballad of Frankie Silver - Sharon McCrumb
• Lions and Liquorice - Kate Fenton
  
• Special Topics in Calamity Physics - Marisha Pessl
• Angelica - Arthur Phillips
  
• Homeland and Other Stories - Barbara Kingsolver
• On Chesil Beach - Ian McEwan
• Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith - Anne Lamott
• Digital Art Studio - Karin Schminke, et al.
• In Case We're Separated - Alice Mattison
• The Forest Lover - Susan Vreeland
• Truth and Beauty - Ann Patchett
• How to Read a Novel - John Sutherland
• The Orchid Shroud - Michelle Wan
• The Golden Compass - Philip Pullman
• Same Sweet Girls - Cassandra King
• The Art of Fiction - David Lodge
• The Amateur Marriage - Anne Tyler
• Cry Me a River - T.R. Pearson
• Have Mercy on Us All - Fred Vargas
• Drinking Coffee Elsewhere - Z.Z. Packer
• Polio: An American Story - David Oshinsky
• Friends, Lovers, Chocolate - Alexander McCall Smith
• Tell Me a Riddle - Tillie Olsen
• The Death of Ivan Illych - Leo Tolstoy
• London: A History - A.N. Wilson
• Balzac and the Little Chinese Princess - Dai Sijie
• Awake in the Dark: The Best of Roger Ebert - Roger Ebert
• Blue Arabesque - Patricia Hampl
• The Piano Tuner - Daniel Mason
• My Name is Red - Orhan Pamuk
• The Sunday Philosophy Club - Alexander McCall Smith
• Eat, Pray, Love - Elizabeth Gilbert
• The Mystery Guest - Gregoire Bouillier
• All is Vanity - Christina Schwarz
• Prague - Arthur Phillips
• Creative Collage Techniques - Nita Leland/ Virginia Williams
• Reading Like a Writer - Francine Prose
• Collage Techniques - Gerald Brommer
• Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic - Alison Blechdel
• My Antonia - Willa Cather
• The Places in Between - Rory Stewart
• Lady Into Fox - David Garnett
• The Keep - Jennifer Egan

Artist Credit: Woman Reading, by Mary Cassatt, top right

"Women's (Art) Work"

Lee Kottner has a thought-provoking post today about, among other topics, the devaluation of crafts made by women at home. The entire post is well worth a look. Here's some of what Lee has to say:

"It's easy to dismiss handmade work as trivial or pointless activity in the machine age, especially when it's made by women. Crafts traditionally done by women have been undervalued and dismissed by patriarchal society for centuries. And I have to say it pisses me off to hear Old Guard feminists dissing other women's work this way. Doing so just plays into the false dichotomy men have always built between professional and home production: between the male chef and the woman who cooks equally well in her own home; between a male ceramicist with a commercial studio and a woman potter who makes her own dishes; between a male fashion designer (or even a tailor) and a woman who designs and sews her family's clothing; between male fabric designers and women who batik and silk-screen and weave their own fabric. Whatever men do in a professional setting is traditionally considered more important and harder and more respectable than the same job done by women in their own homes. Bullshit, I say. It was women cooking, weaving, sewing, and potting who started all these so-called arts that men elevated into some lofty category. It's not who does it, it's the quality of the work the matters.

"The article's author quotes Debbie Stoller, Bust's editor and founder of Stitch'n Bitch, as saying that those domestic crafts were casualties of the first wave of feminism. Don't you believe it. Women sewed from both necessity and out of boredom but it was, more than anything, the cheap availability of mass-produced goods that made women's handicrafts unnecessary. Women could not have moved into the workforce without cheap manufactured goods they formerly hand-produced: bedding, clothing, even food (butter churning?). In addition, advertising created a desire for the manufactured rather than the hand-made. But in poor families where mass-produced goods were still unaffordable, women still continue to sew, knit, and crochet. Same hand crafts like tatting and lace making fell by the wayside for cultural reasons unrelated to feminism. Who includes lace-embellished linens in their trousseau anymore? Who even has a trousseau? Mass production put the majority of independent cast ironworkers, glassblowers, and cabinetmakers out of business, too. These are traditionally male handcrafts (like printing), and nobody blames feminism for their demise. Yet they're as scarce as or possibly more scarce than women who sew, crochet, knit, or weave."