I've been neglecting this blog recently, which I feel very guilty about, especially as it recently got a mention here on The Manchizzle, Manchester's very own "hub of blogging goodness."
However, this is partly because I'm still trying to work out the legality issues around using book cover images and illustrations on a blog. I suspect in the US this would be covered by Fair Use, but I'm not entirely sure of the position here in the UK, and from experience I know that publishers have different policies when it comes to use of images - even if you're just using them to accompany nice things you want to say about their books. Anyway, apologies if things are not looking so pretty around here at the moment while I'm sussing it out.
In the meantime, if you're feeling the need for some book-related visual loveliness, here are some book design sites I've recently discovered that may just fill the gap.
Covers is "dedicated to the appreciation of book cover design", and brings together a very comprehensive selection of book covers of all kinds for debate and heated discussion. It's the brainchild of Fwis, a US design firm based in Brooklyn, NY and Portland, Oregon. (Is it just me, or does it seem like Portland is totally the place to be at the moment? I think I need to go there - check out how cool their Independent Publishing Resource Centre is, for a start!)
The Book Design Review is a well-established book design blog written by Joseph Sullivan. As with Covers, Joseph documents book covers of all kinds, and there's not much here specifically focussed on visual art books or catalogues, but it's an interesting place to read about book design in general.
Similarly, Première de couverture is a blog exploring "the fascinating world of book cover design" authored by Montreal bookseller Thomas, who describes himself as a "curious (in every sense of the word) young man who always judges books by their covers." Thomas mainly posts about paperback fiction covers, and lovely, lovely Penguin books in particular (more on Penguin to follow) and has some great images to browse.
Meanwhile, I'm off to the Liverpool Biennial opening later this week, where I'm sure I'll find lots of inspiration and books to covet, so back soon with more, I promise!
Sunday, 14 September 2008
Sunday, 24 August 2008
books, art & design online (part 1)
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.
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.
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.
Monday, 16 June 2008
New blog
OK, so for no particular reason, I have a new blog.
It's called follow the yellow brick road and it looks a lot prettier than this one. You can find it here.
Perhaps I will come back to this blog at some point when I have some intellectual things to say about books (?!), but for the meantime I'll be posting there!
It's called follow the yellow brick road and it looks a lot prettier than this one. You can find it here.
Perhaps I will come back to this blog at some point when I have some intellectual things to say about books (?!), but for the meantime I'll be posting there!
Tuesday, 20 May 2008
Feel The Fear and do it anyway?
Today I made a decision to do something which has absolutely terrified me for years. I have signed up for a creative writing workshop - a two day novel-based course coming up in the next couple of weeks.
To anyone else that might not sound so scary, but I have always been petrified by the idea of sharing my work with strangers - with anyone really. I don’t know what it is I am so afraid of, but the very thought of it gives me The Fear. However it’s far too late now - I’ve decided to take the plunge. Also I have already paid, so I’m going to have to go through with it and be brave.
With that in mind, I am back here again. It’s not so very adventurous I know, given that (so far!) there seem to be absolutely zero consequences to whatever I post. I would estimate my current readership to be a grand total of nil. However, it’s still a step in the right direction. It’s all about just getting used to the idea that it’s OK to just have a go and see what happens.
In view of all this creative fear and angst, I’ve unearthed my copy of Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way for artistic inspiration and support. I always find it a particularly peculiar book - perhaps just because I’m not always comfortable with the terminology used and the approach Cameron takes - there’s a bit too much about God and it has that slightly discomfiting ‘self-help’ quality to it. However, there’s no doubt that it’s a great source of inspiration to get going or to carry on when the going gets tough. It’s a good place to go for straight-to-the-point advice that always hits home: today I opened the book to read mistakes are necessary... progress, not perfection is what we should be asking of ourselves.
Couldn’t be better advice. As The Fear looms like a nightmare monster, I’m taking a quote from Henry David Thoreau as my motto: Go confidently in the direction of your dreams!
To anyone else that might not sound so scary, but I have always been petrified by the idea of sharing my work with strangers - with anyone really. I don’t know what it is I am so afraid of, but the very thought of it gives me The Fear. However it’s far too late now - I’ve decided to take the plunge. Also I have already paid, so I’m going to have to go through with it and be brave.
With that in mind, I am back here again. It’s not so very adventurous I know, given that (so far!) there seem to be absolutely zero consequences to whatever I post. I would estimate my current readership to be a grand total of nil. However, it’s still a step in the right direction. It’s all about just getting used to the idea that it’s OK to just have a go and see what happens.
In view of all this creative fear and angst, I’ve unearthed my copy of Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way for artistic inspiration and support. I always find it a particularly peculiar book - perhaps just because I’m not always comfortable with the terminology used and the approach Cameron takes - there’s a bit too much about God and it has that slightly discomfiting ‘self-help’ quality to it. However, there’s no doubt that it’s a great source of inspiration to get going or to carry on when the going gets tough. It’s a good place to go for straight-to-the-point advice that always hits home: today I opened the book to read mistakes are necessary... progress, not perfection is what we should be asking of ourselves.
Couldn’t be better advice. As The Fear looms like a nightmare monster, I’m taking a quote from Henry David Thoreau as my motto: Go confidently in the direction of your dreams!
Monday, 12 May 2008
Today...
OK, so I'm back. The big, bad blogosphere couldn't scare me away for too long.
Actually, I'm not so sure it is so very scary after all. When it comes down to it, I realise I quite like the idea of words flowing out into a soundless void. Good, bad, indifferent... suddenly it doesn't seem to matter. Sometimes it's nice to stop fighting, and just drift along in the tide, not worrying about consequences.
The idea of writing without consequences is a particularly appealing one. It's so easy to get fixed on results, products, and to forget that it's the process that's the point. I like the idea of being more playful, and throwing away the idea of "finishing" something "good".
Sources of inspiration? ...I came across Bruce Mau's Incomplete Manifesto today. A bit wordy but I like it. Or, of course, Keri Smith's fabulous Wreck this Journal project. I actually bought a copy of the book for myself the other week and I'm (sort of) looking forward to wrecking it. Although it is surprisingly hard. I am, after all, a total perfectionist, particularly about visual things: the legacy of numerous childhood instances of being told by teachers I was "too messy". And this of course, is what it really all comes down too. It's all very well to write like this, stream-of-consciousness, not even thinking about it. It's all very well to declare your commitment to being adventurous, playful, experimental. But when it comes down to it, when the moment comes and you actually have to take action, suddenly it seems very, very scary.
A bit like that big orange button down there. Publish Post. Do I dare? I haven't even read it through. I don't even know if it makes sense. There's a whole host of inner voices: why would I even bother? No one will ever read this anyway. But another voice, the naughty one (the one who is "too messy" I think) is taunting me, tempting me.
Just press it. What's the worst that could happen? Just take some action. Now.
Actually, I'm not so sure it is so very scary after all. When it comes down to it, I realise I quite like the idea of words flowing out into a soundless void. Good, bad, indifferent... suddenly it doesn't seem to matter. Sometimes it's nice to stop fighting, and just drift along in the tide, not worrying about consequences.
The idea of writing without consequences is a particularly appealing one. It's so easy to get fixed on results, products, and to forget that it's the process that's the point. I like the idea of being more playful, and throwing away the idea of "finishing" something "good".
Sources of inspiration? ...I came across Bruce Mau's Incomplete Manifesto today. A bit wordy but I like it. Or, of course, Keri Smith's fabulous Wreck this Journal project. I actually bought a copy of the book for myself the other week and I'm (sort of) looking forward to wrecking it. Although it is surprisingly hard. I am, after all, a total perfectionist, particularly about visual things: the legacy of numerous childhood instances of being told by teachers I was "too messy". And this of course, is what it really all comes down too. It's all very well to write like this, stream-of-consciousness, not even thinking about it. It's all very well to declare your commitment to being adventurous, playful, experimental. But when it comes down to it, when the moment comes and you actually have to take action, suddenly it seems very, very scary.
A bit like that big orange button down there. Publish Post. Do I dare? I haven't even read it through. I don't even know if it makes sense. There's a whole host of inner voices: why would I even bother? No one will ever read this anyway. But another voice, the naughty one (the one who is "too messy" I think) is taunting me, tempting me.
Just press it. What's the worst that could happen? Just take some action. Now.
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