The Art of Handmade Artist Books

Contemporary bookmaking is a wide and varied art form, and one that includes beautiful craftsmanship, artistic vision, playfulness, a message, sometimes sculpture, and always compels me to want to pick the books up and turn the pages – that is, if the book actually has pages.

I have started a list of book artist sites in the sidebar. When you visit Jody Alexander be sure to click on the link called process – it’s a fun one! Lisa Kokin makes several types of books and has an intriguing website. Robbin Ami Silverberg also runs a handmade paper mill as well as making books. Artist Shanna Leino makes artist’s book making tools by hand which are available for purchase. What a great stocking stuffer that would be! Susan Kapuscinski Gaylord has been a favorite book artist of mine for years. I especially love her series called Spirit Books. Dorothy Simpson Krause is an artist and author I have spoken of previously and has recently written a book called Book + Art Handcrafting Artists Books. Susan Collard makes books which are “architectural” and fantastic constructions. Finally on the list is the Donna Seager Gallery which features many book artists. You can see quite a selection at this site. I’ll be adding more artists to the list over time.

Each autumn I have been exchanging an artist book with an artist friend, Rita J. McNamara. Our exchange is a highlight of the year for me. First, I have a reason to stop and spend time on the concept of my own book, in an edition of two, and then I enjoy the fun of gathering my material and making the books. Although I find bookmaking to be time consuming it is a satisfying and exploratory process. Then as I package my book to ship off to Rita, I can also anticipate the fun of opening a package from her, and seeing her creation which I add to my own collection. Rita is a collage artist, a mail artist, a former weaver, and a published author, as well as a great and dear friend.

This year I am sharing our exchange with you. Following are photos of the book I received from Rita, entitled Oddments and Bagatelles. The words that follow are hers, and explain the concept of her book this year. Closed, her book measures 6.5 by 5.75 inches, and contains 10 pages, with multiple pockets, tags, and a popup page in the center. In a later post, I’ll share my book. Rita is off line, but she reads this blog on a regular basis and I know she will stop by and read your comments.




We started the Thanksgiving Book Exchange to celebrate our favorite time of year. The time when colors fade and the world strips down to its essentialness, its bones. The autumn book always feels like a distillation to me. Last year’s exchange was a Walkbook, fashioned from bits picked up along the way: feathers, ferns, twigs, a dragonfly’s wing.



This year, though, the distillation felt different. My year seemed full of jagged edges, dueling problems and conflicts, growing exhaustion. And all this played out against the larger backdrop of a long brutal winter and my ruined state, a landscape of shuttered factories and businesses, abandoned homes, and thousands of families packing up and hitting the road for some other promised land. I felt shell-shocked. Some days out in the studio I just sat there, trying to remember what I was doing and why.

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As leaves fell and days shortened, I couldn’t think of a theme for the autumn book. I couldn’t find the gate, the way in. My brain felt like a bomb site, shrapnel thoughts sifting down through the rubble. So I started there, with the chaos. I picked through the scrap box, shreds left over from other projects. I suspended judgment and tried to trust that some deeper wordless part of me knew what I was up to, what I wanted to say.



The result looked like something salvaged from a storm, picked from thorny bushes after a twister or a flood: bits of maps, old photos and stained beat up letters, fragment words like “passage” and “place” “itinerary” and “foundling,” a compass made from a labyrinth and an old watch part, a sketch showing the anatomy of bird wings, freight tags, scraps of lace.




And in the middle, the only colored page, a bright blue fold-out map of the streets of Paris. Afterwards, as I flipped through the pages, I got the message: I was lost, looking for the route, the way out, the escape hatch.




And at the center, that map of Paris. Not “real” Paris; Paris-in-my-mind. Paris-in-my-mind has nothing to do with “real” Paris. Paris-in-my-mind is an archetype, a Shambhala. In the Paris-in-my-mind there is time for everything and in late afternoon, the in-between, there is a particular peculiar violet light, la vie en mauve, and you stop for a minute, setting down the pencil or the coffee cup. You think you smell flowers, and just for the flash of a second you feel like you can really see. The life under life, all that lies between and beyond the layers of things. It glistens there like a fresh-caught fish. Rita J. McNamara

Reading the Road Map

8 inch by 8 inch collage on paper



There is a richness to the process of sorting out where I have been and where I am going with my art. I’m settling in and starting to look forward to this process of considering what I have already done and where I might be going, although of course I can’t see around the bend in the road. As you can imagine I am writing a lot about my art – past and present. I’m collecting notes about my use of space, shapes, lines, gesture, marks, passages, color. I’m collecting what I have written about the meaning behind my work. I’m trying things out, and wondering what might happen. I’m thinking of my notes as my personal dictionary of symbols and imagery, a kind of road map. I find all kinds of art from my previous efforts and I sit down and look at it in a new light. What is there that might still be interesting and useful?

And because I have a near constant need to create I am working with papers and paint in my artist book and on small collage. I am looking around me for marks and lines and textures, which are everywhere really. I have started a small collection near the entry door of my gatherings- a leaf or two, an interesting small rock, a feather. There is plenty of room for what ever else I might find. Photographically I have been gathering marks, numbers and textures.

My motivation is to be a better artist, and to work more authentically. I feel I have been authentic, but there is always room to grow, find new avenues and create in ways I may not be able to imagine right now. I am having fun slowing down, pausing and looking around at where I might want to go.

I found an interesting list on an art educational site. It’s about learning to think like an artist. It is a fun list, and one that applies to a lot of the creative people in blogland I would guess. It sums up an attitude of curiosity, perseverance, and playfulness along with passion to work hard.

How to Think Like an Artist

looking at things more closely than most people do.
finding beauty in everyday things and situations.
making new connections between different things and ideas.
going beyond ordinary ways of thinking and doing things.
looking at things in different ways in order to generate new perspectives.
taking risks and exposing yourself to possible failure.
arranging things in new and interesting ways.
working hard and at the edge of your potential.
persisting where others may give up.
concentrating your effort and attention for long periods of time.
dreaming and fantasizing about things.
using old ideas to create new ideas and ways of seeing things.
doing something simply because it's interesting and personally challenging to do.

Artist Book – The Beginning

Artist books are wonderful places to explore, confirm, and celebrate one’s art. I usually make a couple of books each year in late summer and early autumn. I find I spend a lot of time on them – about three months from the start to the finish. Some years I made them of brown paper bags, creating a pocket for extra pullouts; some years the pages were made from nature prints I had done; and some years the pages were each an individual collage picturing a theme.

I’ve been thinking about how perfect my tissue paper transfers are for the pages of this years book. So in the past few weeks I decided on a format. I am going to use a simple Japanese side stab binding. The pages will be 11 inches wide (about 28 cm) and 4.25 (about 11 cm) inches high, of BFK Reeves paper which is a favorite of mine. The binding on the left short side will take away about .5 inches of the page. Therefore I have put the most interesting part of the tissue paper composition on the far right edge.

I am thinking of these as visual haiku. The appeal for me is the natural minimalism of the papers and the haiku format. I’m not sure what I will do with the opposing pages; perhaps some words, or fragments of poetry, a nature print or something found in nature. Each of these tissue paper pages will have added mark making of some kind to complete the composition.

I enjoy the process of book making. For me, a simple form is the best, allowing me to focus on the content which I find most engaging. I like to add a semi-transparent paper as the first and last pages. I have done transfers on heavier rice paper and can use that as covers. I have 14 pages started so far, and anticipate at least that many more. As I continue to work on these I will post updates over the coming months. I find there is a meditative quality to making artist books, repetition of the page format, thinking ahead to the over all content and theme, and the tactile quality that is afford when one picks of a handmade book. My books almost always serve as a means for me to celebrate my favorite season – Autumn.

Artist Date and a Book Report

Untitled by Leslie Avon Miller

Paint was flung, dripped, sprayed with alcohol, spattered, transferred and sanded. We painted flat and upright, and we collaged. The floor of the studio was covered with transfers drying on every available surface. When we were tired we looked at art books and always liked the same things. I had a great holiday weekend in the studio with an artist friend. It was all art from morning to night. What a lot of fun! I have several pieces nearing completion, and am really enthused to keep working. That’s what artist dates are all about!

I also want to let you know about a new art book that just jumped off the bookstore shelf into my hands and came home with me. It is titled Book + Art, Handcrafting Artists’ Books by talented artist, Dorothy Simpson Krause. I love artists’ books, and have several books on the subject. This one however, is rich with images, art technique and goes beyond other books I have in my library on the subject. Dorothy is a painter, collage artist and printmaker who incorporates digital mixed media into her art. She is a professor emeritus at Massachusetts College of Art, where she founded the Computer Arts Center. And she is a fantastic artist.

Under the topic of Inspiration and Perspiration Dorothy writes “Do whatever you can to give yourself the time to work. Don’t wait for inspiration to strike. Start looking for visual or narrative components that relate to an issue of importance to you. Think about the message you want your work to communicate and how you can communicate it simply and effectively…What makes a book interesting is the relationship between content and form, and how it functions to entice and engage.”

Origami Birthday Book

This little book measures less than 2 inches tall. It was made by my friend artist Rita McNamara. She tells me that the page folding automatically creates a no glue, stitch-free binding. Inside each pocket is a diminutive tag and tiny antique postage stamp. On the left of each spread is a Chinese fortune, including “something special is coming your way.” I think this petite book is something special indeed. I feel fortunate to have such a lovely gift from my artist friend.

These are the last photos taken with our digital camera. I was dutifully doing a load of laundry yesterday, when I inadvertently threw both laundry and the camera into the filling washing machine. Ouch! I tucked my tail and hung my head as I told Kurt last night what I had done to his camera. Sweet man that he is, he has asked me to get him a photography magazine so he can research the replacement.