It's surprising that beyond the sites of individual publishers or booksellers, there seem to be very few blogs or websites out there which are specifically dedicated to visual art and visual culture books and publishing. (If anyone knows of any good ones that I perhaps haven't stumbled upon, do drop me a comment and let me know!) However, today I thought I would post about a few of my favourite loosely visual art/book related sites. Here are some of my highlights:
OK, so I'm sure you know this one already, but BibliOdyssey is, frankly, a treasure trove. This amazing blog from enigmatic curator Peacay brings together an extraordinary and fascinating array of “visual materia obscura” gathered from online library and institutional archives. The result is an ever-increasing collection of curiosities - obscure illustrations covering everything from weird medical drawings to 18th century mechanical diagrams to childrens’ book illustrations. Each new collection of images is accompanied by a meticulously-researched commentary which makes for intriguing reading. BibliOdyssey is enormously enjoyable, as well as being a hugely valuable resource for artists and illustrators, and now you can also enjoy some of the highlights of the blog in book form. BibliOdyssey: Amazing Archival Images from the Internet was published by the fine people at FUEL design & publishing and features a foreword by Dinos Chapman. You can buy it online here.
Book by its cover is the brain child of New York illustrator and pattern designer Julia Rothman, and has to be one of my favourite book sites. Covering a wide range of visually-interesting books, from children’s books and comics through to fine art monographs, this beautifully-presented blog also includes unique handmade publications and individual sketchbooks that catch Julia’s eye, as well as interviews with artists and designers, such as this interview with Mike Perry of Hand Job fame. If you’re an illustration and sketchbook junkie like I am (more on sketchbooks to come!), this blog is an absolute must-read.
Judge a Book is a minimal pared-down blog showcasing the author's collection of vintage book covers from the 50s, 60s and 70s - in particular Penguins and some brill Pelicans. Posting can be a bit sporadic but if retro is your thing, it’s definitely worth a look.
Sunday 24 August 2008
Monday 18 August 2008
how to be an explorer of the world
"...you are a detective. your mission is to document and observe the world around you as if you’ve never seen it before...”
The wonderful Keri Smith has announced a new book! How to be an Explorer of the World is all about exploring, collecting, observing and documenting the things around us. As with most of Smith's work, it's all about enjoying the mystery, inspiration and fascination of the seemingly ordinary and everyday. There's a tempting little teaser for the new book online here, though unfortunately it won't be out here in the UK until November. However, in the meantime, I'll be enjoying keeping up with Smith's well-loved blog, the wish jar journal, and enjoying some of her back catalogue.
Keri Smith describes herself as "an author/illustrator turned guerilla artist." As an illustrator, she has worked for a wide variety of clients from Random House to the New York Times, but she has gained particular success as a blogger and author writing about creativity in its broadest sense, and perhaps most especially about the fun and importance of creative and artistic play. There is a certain childlike naivety to Smith's work, which works well with her distinctive illustrative style: titles such as Living Out Loud may strike the reader as twee in places, advocating everything from painting pebbles in the back garden to making paper dolls in the quest to enjoy a creative life to the full. However, looking beyond the surface, Smith's books are also highly inspirational, referencing everything and everyone from eastern philosophy to John Cage and Charles and Ray Eames. In a recent interview, Smith explains her commitment to writing about creativity: "I love the idea of creating books that give people more of a direct experience with life instead of walking through it passively. Get up out of your chair and take a look at things around you... Turn off the TV... there is no time to waste. Aren't we all just aching for a bit of adventure?"
It is this "sense of adventure" that Smith's books aim to encapsulate, becoming a playful call to arms to artists of all kinds. As well as Living Out Loud, my personal highlights would be the ever-popular Guerilla Art Kit and Wreck This Journal, a book filled with prompts telling the reader how to systematically 'destroy' the entire book. As Smith explains "in this book good does not exist. The goal is to fill it up, to shift your perception of the blank page and the journal itself into a place for experimentation. Into a place... to do those things you were taught to never do (make a mess, destroy, fold down pages, write in books, play with dirt). This book IS the place." I treated myself to a copy earlier this year and have been thoroughly enjoying the destructive process, which feels enjoyably subversive and just generally naughty in a very good way. Check this out:
(You can see more journal wrecking inspiration at the wreck this journal website here.)
...and I’m back.
I’ve been having a lovely time over at follow the yellow brick road posting all sorts of nonsense, but today I decided to wander back over here for a change. Not, I hasten to add, because I plan to say anything intellectual, but perhaps because I am going to say something about books, more specifically, visual art books. There’s a little back story to this, so bear with me for a moment...
Up until six months ago, I worked as the manager of a lovely visual arts bookshop. It was my baby: I set it up and I ran it, doing more or less everything myself from organising book events to stock control. Like most jobs, it had its good points, and its bad points, but by far the best thing about it was the books themselves, and their sheer loveliness. I have always had a thing for visual arts books. Don’t get me wrong, I love all books, all of them, even the sad, dog-eared paperbacks in charity shops that no one wants. But there is something extra special about visual arts books: the beautifully shiny pages, the glossy photographs, the strokable covers. They may not be the sort of books you read avidly all the time, but they are such a treat to look at and to own.
I loved ordering the books, and loved it even more when the parcels arrived addressed to me: big fat brown cardboard boxes that I had to lug up two flights of stairs. It was like getting presents every day: opening the boxes, with polystyrene balls flying everywhere, felt almost like Christmas. Out came lovely, brand new books, each a perfect objet d’art in itself, wrapped in cellophane or sometimes neatly in thick brown paper. And then, possibly even more fun, I got to arrange them on the shelves.
I now have a different job - a fantastic job, which also has much to do with both visual arts and literature/books, and has many delights of its own. However, what I have realised recently is that I am really missing the books, and so I thought I might perhaps use this rather sad and neglected little blog as a space to ramble on about visual arts books - and catalogues and zines and publications and all the other wonderful, pretty things out there, partly just to indulge myself as much as anything else. Of course, I'll still be posting over at follow the yellow brick road about other important matters such as writing and exhibitions and red shoes that I like. But I think this will be fun too.
Up until six months ago, I worked as the manager of a lovely visual arts bookshop. It was my baby: I set it up and I ran it, doing more or less everything myself from organising book events to stock control. Like most jobs, it had its good points, and its bad points, but by far the best thing about it was the books themselves, and their sheer loveliness. I have always had a thing for visual arts books. Don’t get me wrong, I love all books, all of them, even the sad, dog-eared paperbacks in charity shops that no one wants. But there is something extra special about visual arts books: the beautifully shiny pages, the glossy photographs, the strokable covers. They may not be the sort of books you read avidly all the time, but they are such a treat to look at and to own.
I loved ordering the books, and loved it even more when the parcels arrived addressed to me: big fat brown cardboard boxes that I had to lug up two flights of stairs. It was like getting presents every day: opening the boxes, with polystyrene balls flying everywhere, felt almost like Christmas. Out came lovely, brand new books, each a perfect objet d’art in itself, wrapped in cellophane or sometimes neatly in thick brown paper. And then, possibly even more fun, I got to arrange them on the shelves.
I now have a different job - a fantastic job, which also has much to do with both visual arts and literature/books, and has many delights of its own. However, what I have realised recently is that I am really missing the books, and so I thought I might perhaps use this rather sad and neglected little blog as a space to ramble on about visual arts books - and catalogues and zines and publications and all the other wonderful, pretty things out there, partly just to indulge myself as much as anything else. Of course, I'll still be posting over at follow the yellow brick road about other important matters such as writing and exhibitions and red shoes that I like. But I think this will be fun too.
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