The Bindery

The dragons roam everywhere

2012-02-03T20:46:00.000-08:00

I haven't had much studio work to post 'cause the writing's going so well, but I had to share this, from the Japanese inkstone cover that I use as a weight.

Xin nian kuai le

2012-01-23T14:26:00.001-08:00

The view of the new year today: wet, but bright and full of promise. For one, I hope the dragon brings me continued focus on the book, and the will and words to power through the last two-thirds.

Thanks to Yao Xiao Long for the fine characters.

Here's the text of the card I printed this year, from C.A.S. Williams's Outlines of Chinese Symbolism and Art Motives (Tuttle Co., 1941):

"The Eastern dragon is not the gruesome monster of mediaeval imagination, but the genius of strength and goodness. He is the spirit of change, therefore of life itself. ... Hidden in the caverns of inaccessible mountains, or coiled in the unfathomed depth of the sea, he awaits the time when he slowly rouses himself into activity. He unfolds himself in the storm clouds; he washes his mane in the blackness of the seething whirlpools. His claws are in the fork of lightning, his scales begin to glisten in the bark of the rain-swept pine trees. His voice is heard in the hurricane, which, scattering the withered leaves of the forest, quickens a new spring."

Happy dragon!

Where has this book been all my life?

2012-01-20T17:47:00.000-08:00

Every time I take a trip to Powell's City of Books, I pinch myself that I live in Portland and can visit this book Mecca anytime.

I always come home with a surprise, and this time it's Visible Traces, which highlights the greatest hits in the, as it's subtitled, "rare books and special collections from the National Library of China." I thrilled to see it there on the shelf, then kicked myself for not being aware of its publication some years ago. Geez, where was I? (I know, in the throes of Operation Boyfriend.)

For now, I tease you with the cover and this brief description. I hope to return with another post showing some of the treasures inside. I almost gasped seeing some books depicted that I was able to handle when I worked for a summer in the conservation department at the National Library of China. Only this time I was able—through English translation of the Chinese text—to really figure out the when, where, and how of the books, making them even more stunning than I thought.

I'll savor this book in the rainy season ahead.

It's not all books in the bindery

2012-01-10T20:17:00.001-08:00

We've got tango, too. The twice-monthly women's lead practica marked its two-year anniversary today. Tangueras Susan and Ursina give it a whirl.

The dragon begins to stir

2011-12-19T22:06:00.001-08:00

Today I met my last editing deadline for the year, and yesterday put the finishing touches on my latest letterpress project, which should go in the mail any day now. Here's a preview:

In case it's not obvious, my new favorite typeface is Keynote.

Speaking of favorites, here's an awesome piece hanging in the studio, pulled off by Em Spacers Rory Sparks and Kyle Durrie during a residency at Wisconsin's Hamilton Wood Type & Printing Museum. It never fails to blow my mind imagining wood type that huge, much less the machinations required in printing on that size paper.

I love the attribution.

Happy birthday, Blog!

2011-12-05T17:06:00.000-08:00

This week marks five years of writing this blog, my little content monster. Post something, and moments later it's hungry again. Still, it's a good companion as I make my way trying to use (and polish) my skills and learn new ones. That gaping electronic maw, yearning for posts, helps keep me working, whether it's making stuff, photographing stuff, or writing about it.

So far more than 19,000 people have visited my li'l stoop along the infobahn. Judging from the key words they use, people all over the world (from Lesotho to Lithuania, and Laos to Peru) are hungry for Chinese bookbinding, all the more reason to get the last two-thirds of my bookbinding manual-adventure tale out of my mind and onto the page or, uh, monitor.

With the sale at Em Space over, I'm on to the next gigs, including:
• teaching a free bookbinding workshop at the Northeast Community Center
• more book editing, for a title coming out next year from Oregon State University Press;
• working gallery hours at Em Space; and
• scheming on dragons, featured animal of the coming Chinese new year.

The Em Space event went great—I even sold a L'Invitation! It was wonderful to see everyone, meet new people, make sales, and share in the great adventure of finding the place. Now that the construction around Em Space is mostly over I have better directions: Take Southeast Seventh all the way to Division, turn left, then first two rights, then left after passing under the fancy new overpass. Em Space is a few doors to the right.

I have a few items left from the sale (including some of the clamshell boxes shown below), so if you missed it and are yet hankering for some chiyogami goodness in your life, get in touch and we can set up a studio visit. Given how tough that vintage San Francisco bookcloth is (half my fingers were bleeding last week), I probably won't be making any more just like this anytime soon.

Your holidays—let them be letterpressed

2011-11-15T09:10:00.001-08:00

This weekend Em Space rocked with activity, with at least three presses running—emitting all the necessary whirs, clanks, and ink hiss that come with printing. Me, I tried another round of foil stamping, more like fail stamping given all the mistakes that were made; perhaps this procedure isn't all I wanted it to be.

With any luck, I too will have all my shiny wares ready for Em Space's annual holiday soiree and sale, coming right at you December 2 and 3. Hours are 5 p.m. to 9 p.m. Friday evening and 2 p.m. to 7 p.m. Saturday. We'll have all kinds of creative, well-crafted goods on hand that you won't find anywhere else.

Here's a glimpse of the photo frames I made, among the new bunch of lovelies taking shape in my studio.

As I was out to dinner this weekend eating expensive food, the memory of which would likely be fleeting, I realized perhaps I need to sell my product more like, um, a fancy entree or wine. People pay half or more as much for a few mouthfuls of succulence, but my hand-bound boxes cost little more and last lifetimes. So here goes: The picture frames (and boxes), built of dense bookboard, and enrobed in caramel-colored bookcloth and complex chiyogami, add visual crackle and pop to one's surroundings and, in protecting and packaging their contents, satisfy our cravings to savor and cherish.

Busy foiling around

2011-10-24T11:28:00.000-07:00

Readers of this blog are familiar with my long-standing problem of "signing" my work. Lots of times I just stamp what I make with my Chinese chop, but I always worry about the ink, placement, and readability.

No more.

I've become a foil-stampin' fool! After I had a die made—perfected by the Grok God, naturally—I spent an afternoon at Em Space stamping almost anything I could get my hands on.

For pure bling, there's no beating using the foil proper:

But it looks just as awesome on plain old binder's board:

Could it be the Chinese is easier to read than the English?

Then I went crazy stamping portfolio models from the archive, here trying it out on pastepaper-covered bookboard:

The mohawked spoke Mandarin

2011-10-04T20:24:00.000-07:00

When I hustled back to Beijing in the mid-'90s a year after my bookbinding adventure there, I was hungry. And no it wasn't just to feed my newfound love of Chinese cuisine (nothing like what I'd eaten stateside!), but I became addicted to the adrenaline of everyday living, the idea that learning one new syllable could lead to a hundred more words, and scrambling amid an ancient culture that seemed to hurtle toward the future.

Back home, my Cui Jian tapes had turned to ribbon from overplaying, as did my collection from other rising rock stars. And then there was the nightlife! Ah, sweet dark that hides and spikes all my favorite vices: illegal gatherings, underground clubs (sometimes literally—a favorite sprouted in an old bomb shelter), smoking and drinking and all that fun stuff.

But the music. I love music, almost all kinds, but rock 'n' roll, so tame in the West, still sounded dangerous in Beijing. It was dangerous in Beijing; just ask Cui Jian, who could hardly play a show. When he did play it was always memorable; once he gigged at the French Embassy, an event that practically turned into an international incident.

One of the first colleagues I met at the paper where I worked was a tall Texan with dyed hair, punked-out leather jacket, and excellent Chinese. We shared a love of music and all things Dishwasher Pete. Tireless and talented, David O'Dell threw himself into Beijing's burgeoning punk scene, helping build it venue by venue and band by band. The shows he lined up always delivered a thrill, pure muscle, energy, and feeling. Luckily he took notes and pictures, and now the book's all laid out for you to live it, too. Enjoy.

P.S. Full disclosure: I copyedited it.

Tequila never looked so good

2011-10-03T12:09:00.001-07:00

Chiyogami dresses up a liquor bottle.

Port | Land | Bridge | Town

2011-09-29T10:09:00.000-07:00

Giant staples pinning together two pieces of land, Portland's bridges define the city and enable it. My favorite remains the Steel Bridge, a workhorse that serves trains, vehicles, cyclists, and pedestrians and still jacks itself into the sky for marine traffic. I'll never forget a letter we received when I worked at the newspaper from a reader railing against the Steel; he wanted it torn down for its ugliness.

I look at some of the other bridges, newer and far less interesting (Marquam, anyone?), and marvel at the aesthetic differences, and our opinions.

Detail of the Steel, framing barge loading wheat. Broadway and Fremont bridges (see the flag?!) are in the distance.

Cycling along this rail made my bike commute.

This fresh in: Montana sweetgrass and animal hides

2011-09-15T21:05:00.000-07:00

Such bounty awaits hunter-gatherers at the farmers markets in Montana! Sure they have fruits and vegetables (lots of it grown by the superfarmin' Hutterites), but what I loved was the fact I could pick up a bundle of animal hide remnants for $5 and then sweetgrass braids made by a woman from a local tribe.

She waved a slender wand under my nose and my eyes rolled up: Intoxicated, I slammed back into my youth, driving somewhere far and gorgeous with my dad at the helm, his elbow scooped in the car door's upholstery, the wind teasing our hair, clouds scooting across the sky, tawny hay stacked high against periwinkle blue, and the road so wide and spooling us forward. I could drive forever with my dad.

Back in Great Falls, I return to the sweetgrass farmer talking about how she and her girlfriends throw a braid in their cars, a natural refreshing alternative to the Kool-Aid-stained and -scented cartoon trees that you hang from the rearview mirror. This innocuous bundle of green-yellow grass packs come-hither hits of sweet mint, coconut, hay?—it would drive 'em crazy in Grasse, I expect.

It can perfume a room in a hurry, making your nose twitch in delight, and most important it got that smell out of the car. I won't go into detail but let's say it was the only hitch in our Mont(h)ana road trip and it involved a large quickly slurped glass of milk and a tunafish sandwich. Oh, and a road so luscious and curvy you could film car commercials on it.

But o the sweetgrass! I am enthralled anew.

I hope to have bigger news to share with you next time I post, but it looks like I shall have plenty going on in the studio soon considering all the recent inquiries. It sure gives me impetus to put the finishing touches on L'Invitation au Voyage and send it out to the world. Here was my view of it this week.

In this case, form drove function

2011-08-04T18:29:00.000-07:00

About a year ago I woke up with an idea for a small book, one that would fold out from its self-enclosing wrapper to take the reader away. I'm also frustrated by book shows where only certain pages are open to the reader—such the antithesis of the narrative's intent, which urges people to come along for as long as they like. This book could fold out and be displayed—and read—in its entirety, without the use of hands if necessary. Then, when readers were done with it, it could be tidied up for the shelf, like a little package set for traveling.

Slight enough to fit in the pocket and made of papers tough enough to withstand burnishing by fingers and years, this book could be found centuries on, intriguing further generations of readers as it journeyed through time and space. Here is the model of the book that my mind saw, so teeny it can truly be considered thumbnail scale:

And here's the result:
A poem by Charles Baudelaire that's haunted me for years immediately came to mind for the text, and so over some months I set it in three batches (mostly because I kept running out of e's). And because Ma Nao Books shies away from anything too commercially successful, it is in French.

Words pale. Let's read it in pictures:

If you would like your very own copy, you can order one on my Web site.

Provoked by performance art

2011-07-30T22:11:00.000-07:00

It's not often I get first-class mail (with a pretty art stamp no less), so of course I tore right into it.

Turns out me and/or my work now was subject of (or is that "to"?) a performance art project by one Michael 5000. The card featured a piece of mine, produced some years ago but which nevertheless had won me entry to Portland Open Studios in 2008. For that ill-fated event, I crisis-cleaned the studio for weeks, and then the economy crashed the day before. Thankfully, it didn't stop the stream of visitors, but it sure put a damper on sales.

On seeing the card with my work on it, my immediate first reaction was delight, the next was a kind of Hey, that's my stuff, and right behind that was, Where did he get that old thing?

As an artist, it's a bit eerie coming across old work: It can be cool or embarrassing, but it'll always tug on you like all those great and horrible memories from, say, middle school, taking you back to a time when you were, perhaps, less evolved than now. Smiling at my little "book" I think, How groovy that Mr. 5000 took the time to cut out this picture and make a card of it.

Now, what's here? Inside Mr. 5000 introduces his performance piece and then offers up his artist's statement, which is just beautiful. How could I critique that? (Except for the missing "R" of course.) First, it appears he has thought more about my art than I have (at least this piece in particular), and then thought even further by taking it to the realm of performance/interactivity. Geez. I'm just trying to do some bookbinding over here, what do you want? Salon talk? Theory?

This is a lovely card, and performance, and I'm glad to have taken part in it. There, I have responded. Has the performance ended, or is card-making your newest business venture?

Straightforward signage: I'll eat to that!

2011-07-17T17:59:00.000-07:00

This presentation's so wonderfully plain and bold in its font and word choice, but the curlicue-ish dingbats on either side soften it, giving Clayton's in Coronado a sweet side.

Messieurs et mesdames, we have a colophon and a cover

2011-06-29T15:52:00.000-07:00

Now all's we need is a bookbinder to sew it all up.

The Baudelaire project moves toward completion after all the photo grokking and letterpress printing this weekend. I still have to add the accent marks, seeing as how my typefaces (Minuet and Cloister) were poured without them.

My lead on a French typewriter fizzled when I got to the resale shop just days after another buyer did. Dommage, but also tant pis. Much as I love this poem, I could never type it 25 times. And on thick Fabriano paper?—forget it. Plus, my handwritten accent marks will add a homespun touch. I thought briefly whether I could omit them, but then the poem reads all wrong. I can't do that to Monsier Charles!

Lately, I've been wondering, Does anyone send prospectuses anymore? I stopped after Bahia Night, probably because designing and assembling them usually added a month to the book rollouts, as they were. Still, I got a respectable number of orders that way, and even perhaps added to the allure of my offerings. It might be time to resurrect them; that way I could send everyone a ticket to "L'Invitation au Voyage."

There are many sides to "Two Lives": here are four of them

2011-06-13T16:18:00.000-07:00

stacked view

front view

A gatefold features three images representing each of the two subjects—talk about a drastic photo editing job!

Two archival double-sided pockets on either end of the book hold CDs and DVDs with more pictures, text, and audio files.

The best part about making books? When they leave

2011-05-17T22:06:00.000-07:00

It is so satisfying watching my pile of copies that make up the Two Lives edition dwindle as they're sent off to their proper owners. Last I updated y'all on the project, it was little past this:

Next goal is to photograph the finished product—letterpress cover, boards, and all—and post results here! If you would like to spend some time with it in person, I have a copy, as well as my Please Touch book, up in the current Em Space show, 407 S.E. Ivon.

Speaking of shows, a fellow bookbinder and I went down to Corvallis last month to visit the Un-Speak-Able arty book roundup, in which we had a few entries. I love practically any excuse to get out of town, and this trip felt so right: good talking, wide-open views, acres of sheep (including very wee ones, just white specks punctuating the green), and quality art time. Hey, you could even touch some of the work! We also were entrusted with Cinnamon Bear as his chaperones for the day.

Some pics of the art outing, brazenly posted without advance permission from Mrs. 5000.

And just to show you we bookbinders know how to par-tay, here we are—in another unauthorized photo; what is this, TMZ?—at the launch for PDX Letterpress. Thanks, Michael 5000, for the (fine) art.

Sometimes the last chapter comes too soon

2011-05-04T15:46:00.000-07:00

Sorry, blog readers, for the absence. My dad—one of the biggest book lovers of all—died recently, and I'm still rearranging my psyche around it. Here's a pic of him, instilling his favorite hobby in yet another generation.

I printed a tribute to him, basically a list of some of his favorite things, and enjoyed hauling out the Copperplate Gothic. Because that's just the kind of guy he was: old-school, with class.

In happier news, after six months of binding during naptime, I finally finished Two Lives! You can see a copy at Em Space, as part of the anniversary show that kicked off April 30. I'm working gallery hours noon to 4 on Sunday, May 15, if you want some in-person running commentary.

Now that the party's over, it's back to work

2011-03-09T17:49:00.000-08:00

Well, that was fun—and of course as with any great one-time event I forgot my camera (see also: Scripps Camp letterpress workshop of last year). Despite Academy Awards competition, a crowd of book- and letter-lovin' people came out for the launch of Letterpress PDX, the Portland-based print shop that brings the power of the press to your doorstep.

Time Farmer provided a sweet atmospheric backdrop while many people perused my book collection, and almost all complied with my plea to handle the new book as much as possible. It still hardly looks or feels so "read"; I'll have to take it out for touching more often.

I should be finishing the Two Lives edition (25 more to go), but instead I spent the afternoon fine-tuning the dummy for my printing of Baudelaire's "L'Invitation au Voyage." Here's a front and back view of the prototype, and the first page (still sans accent marks).

E-mail me if you see a typo!

I got so excited about the launch party I made a book

2011-02-21T15:53:00.000-08:00

You are going, aren't you? The Letterpress PDX celebration runs 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. Sunday, Feb. 27, at the outfit's sweet new home—Disjecta, 8371 N. Interstate. Among the offerings are chances to try your hand at a mobile press that'll bring print to the people citywide (there's also a locally based national effort under way by Moveable Type, but that's a whole other post), punch buttons, bind books, eat "book-themed desserts," pet books from my collection, listen to a couple of bands, and much more.

After seeing the recent book show at the Museum of Contemporary Craft, I came away wanting to hold the things, lay them in my lap like the designer-writer-publisher always (usually) intended and savor the layouts, the feel of the page between my fingers, and yes the words and pictures. It's hard to do that on aching feet and at a distance determined by a plexi wall.

Forever, too, I have wanted to make some kind of record of the wacky papers in my inventory, collected from all over the world and usually not the best for text, given all the inclusions, coatings, and texture. (I always wanted to make some sort of nonadhesive baby book that would help spike a kid's first love of paper, but then I caught mine eating one of those magazine subscription cards.)

I took some prime samples from my treasure trove, added a few pages from a 1958 issue of the Brazilian magazine O Cruzeiro for style and visual relief among the textural feast, then wrapped them in a beautiful piece of paper handmade by Helen Hiebert. It's a totally tactile piece, fun for the fingertips and the eyes.

So here's a book you can touch. In fact, I beg you to. I always tell my customers how good a book or box feels when burnished by hands over time, so the more the merrier.

I love the tooth of the cover and can't wait to see how the paper ages with use. Lately I've really been into the die-cut look, more easily achieved here with my circle cutter. The cover peeks into a paper that reads like Rorschach.

It's all low-key from the outside, but a riot within.

Hoppy Valentine's Day

2011-02-14T13:45:00.000-08:00

OK, OK, I can hear you groaning. The Chinese celebrate the new year, or Spring Festival or the lunar new year (as the post office blandly puts it), for 15 days, so I'm still in the bunny window so to speak!

It already looks like a busy year ahead, with several copy-editing and bookbinding projects in the works, not to mention a plea for stories about the short-lived but high-adrenaline trajectory of Beijing Scene.

Ma Nao Books is folding

2011-02-11T18:08:00.000-08:00

Like, 500 times.

After a couple months of intensive editing, compiling, and designing, the literary-legacy project finally comes to the binding bench, starting with all those outsize folios—the text and the kozo cover sheet over the title page—that need halving, by hand of course! I collate them with the three-ply image gatefold and give 'em a good nipping in the press.

Next I tuck the text folios inside a cloth spine and make my first stab (ha) at sewing. The books still look and feel like such slim things, but they just keep growing in presence, especially when the boards go on.

This being a more complex multimedia package, I'll end up sewing each little packet of love twice, attaching endsheets (half of which paste down to the bookboard on the inside covers) and the archival double-sided CD envelopes the second time I sew.

So this is what Angelina Jolie feels like

2011-01-17T14:36:00.000-08:00

Everybody watches you. And when they show up lugging paints and portfolios, they're going about that watching with laserlike focus, every twitch of the eye triggering a tug of the hand.

As an art student and now (though I shy away from calling myself an artist when usually "bookbinder" will do), I long benefited from others' modeling so when I was asked to sit recently for a monthly art session at a studio in the neighborhood, I said yes to the adventure.

First off, do you have any idea how many muscles you use just sitting there? After five 25-minute sessions I was ready to get off the stage, and had new respect for those who do it, and some without any clothes on either. It helps to do a lot of yoga breathing, power-think through nose tickles, and focus on something you can make into lots of shapes to amuse yourself.

Remember, you're working in front of one of the most observant classes of people on Earth, so if you suddenly start smiling, they'll know. Maybe even before you do.

In the swim of it at Blackfish

2011-01-14T07:36:00.000-08:00

It was a rare dry First Thursday in winter, so the crowds migrated to the Pearl District, and Blackfish Gallery saw a steady river of visitors. Thank you to all who came!

My favorite moment of the reception came when I passed behind some burly guy as he encountered my altered book. He absorbed it for a moment, then came a big ol' "Huh!"

If you can't get to the show (up through the 29th), click here for a virtual tour. If you want more more more—including artist interviews—watch Mario Caoile's video Artspace Out of Bounds, posted in the right margin.

Here are a couple pictures of my pieces in situ.

Religious History

Against the Grain

Here are the people who make it happen. Thank you!

Creed and consequences: The making of "Religious History"

2010-12-20T09:56:00.000-08:00

Even as I contemplate a "No new projects" New Year's resolution, I couldn't help but devote this week to fine-tuning the installation of two new works that'll be part of Artspace Out of Bounds, showing through January at Blackfish Gallery, 420 N.W. Ninth Ave, Portland, OR.

Born of serendipity and frustration with how religious conflict plays out (historically, now, and likely the future), the work above—entitled Religious History—combines an 1877 Christian creed with nails. I've since learned these four-sided old-school nails are called "cut" nails—even better.

After I stumbled upon this handsome but not readily accessible (it's in German, for starters) hardbound book and had an idea what to do with it, it was months before I got up the nerve to pick up the hammer. As a bookbinder, I felt a bit chagrined to "do harm." Physically, it was harder than I thought it would be. It also felt kind of good.

The opening reception for Artspace Out of Bounds is 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. Thursday, Jan. 6. I'd love to see you there! Otherwise, regular gallery hours are 11 to 5 Tuesday through Saturday.

Farewell, my pretties

2010-12-16T12:43:00.001-08:00

The last of the holiday boxes left the workshop yesterday. I hope that they go on to make a lot of people's lives more beautiful. Here's a parade of the chiyogami (and a bit of suminagashi) splendor:

The editing arm of Ma Nao Books never rests

2010-12-10T14:08:00.000-08:00

This just in from an author I had the privilege of working with earlier this year. She enlisted my help turning her dissertation into sample chapters for a book. It's always fun to edit something from the beginning of a project, in this case making it seamless and compelling for the acquisitions editors at a university press.

Not only did I get to learn a lot about the fascinating subject matter, but I got the benefit of experiencing someone's exhaustive research with fresh eyes. What a great story it is, and now it has a shot at a wider audience. The writer heard a yes this week. Congratulations!

On top of this vicarious coup, I just received another manuscript to edit—this time fiction.

In other bright news, I'll have a piece at The Arts Center in Corvallis in March. The show's called Un-Speak-Able, but I'm sure to speak to y'all more about it.

Speaking (again!) of shows, I hope to announce something soon about exhibiting in the Pearl next month. As it is for real—this looking like another hydro-heavy Oregon winter—when it rains it pours.

I can't think of a better way to mark my 100th post

2010-12-06T15:37:00.000-08:00

... than to go off topic!

Inspired by my friend Michael's scintillating series on boring postcards (my only complaint being that the entries often veer into interesting), I recently came across one of my own while digging around in the studio.

Sure, my hometown's not the most visually stimulating place in the world, but this card goes out of its way to make the point. "Come to Helena," it seems to say, "we have fabulous parking lots!"

Looking forward, looking backward

2010-12-05T16:39:00.000-08:00

Thank you to all who came out for Artisan Holiday; it was wonderful to see you and, with the other artists in attendance, share the cheer (and latest chiyogami-covered goodness). Today I was actually at a loss as to what to do with myself, but of course I still have a couple of deadlines to meet.

It was so satisfying coming up with the final form for the family history project; this winter I'll plug away on the edition. Here's a walk-through:

A book can be chock-full of literary and visual surprises, but without a proper cover it looks so plain. Still, I love the utilitarian face of bare bookboard and judging from some recent publications (say, Barbara Tetenbaum's Half-Life, and ReadyMade magazine's shelf-worthy debut), it's becoming fashionable.

The text, laid out in InDesign, was interspersed with tributes from individuals, breaking up the long gray paragraphs and adding many different voices to the story.

Two soft CD pockets are sewn in on either side of the text, each capable of holding two CDs, which contain oral history, pictures, writings, and sound samples.

A gatefold in the center shows six photographs representative of three stages in the subjects' lives.

A finished product, with letterpress-printed title

50 copies to go!

North Pole workshop's got nothing on us

2010-11-19T15:59:00.000-08:00

Helen designed the invites, and the real ones—printed on some of her fuzzy-toothy handmade paper—make a great reminder of the unique wares we've rounded up for this year's Artisan Holiday. We hope to see you there.

With the prototypes done for my family history project (only 50 more copies to go, but that's winter work), I'm moving on to making even more goods for the sale Dec. 4. I'll also have some of my classics, such as the Postcard Writer's Companion:

a detail of the functional interior

tissue boxes covered in gorgeous Japanese chiyogami paper

the portfolio, useful for anyone from students to seniors

and of course the photo holders featured in a recent post. When was the last time you received real pictures you could thumb through again and again? The photo sheath, filled with a dozen 4 x 6 snapshots, makes a thoughtful, durable, and elegant gift—rare indeed.

Save the date, holiday shoppers

2010-11-08T20:56:00.000-08:00

Some time ago papermaker Helen Hiebert and I put together a successful sale called Handmade Holiday, which ran for a couple years. In the intervening time we've discovered someone stole the name (the nerve!). We'll get over that, but we did miss the low-key camaraderie among participants, and the chance to make a festive connection with our lovely, loyal fans.

So here's a reprise: Saturday, Dec. 4, at Helen's house and studio, 2012 N. Emerson.

Look out for cards in your mailboxes, exhortations by e-mail, and further blog posts.

See you then.

Bragging rights made portable, and protected

2010-11-04T18:12:00.000-07:00

This project came about when a friend asked for something in which to carry pictures of her new niece. On the chance that she wants what others do, I made a photo sheath, if you will, that fits a dozen snaps and easily slips into a pocket or purse. No glue's required, so the sheath bends and flexes as needed, all the while safeguarding sweet moments captured by camera.

Letterpress printing showcases my new favorite typeface, Legend. I love bold descenders!

Someday I'll get these posted in my Etsy shop.

Speaking of shops, The Arrangement, 4210 N.E. Fremont in Portland, Oregon, started carrying my hand-bound portfolios.

Talk about a huge art play

2010-11-02T15:56:00.000-07:00

We missed the cake and official hooha, but my studio supervisor and I made it to Oregon College of Art & Craft in early October as it unveiled its latest construction project to the public. All's I can say is, Wow. And: When can we move in?

A walkway links this newest bit of campus with the old. Check out the brick at lower left.

Xiexie means Thank you in the Middle Country.

Zhang Ping's brick is just out the back door of the book arts department, where I've taught what he taught me, passing on hundreds of years' old knowledge to dozens more students.

Meanwhile, back in Mainz

2010-10-25T20:15:00.000-07:00

BTW, the image above and in the following post feature the R Spiel, a game I picked up at the Gutenberg Museum in Mainz. It's a delightful way to geek out on serifs. And just so you know, I think the "solution" above is wrong, so it's no spoiler.

The Gutenberg Bibles, what can I say? They lay open there, sort of glowing under perfect lighting. The first Bible, not as well preserved as the other, looks surprisingly bedraggled; the 555 years haven't been so kind. The fanciful drop cap fuzzes out at its edges, and the paper seems to want to flake away, like rough construction paper (not that my fingertip could have ever come near it). The text appears so fantastically olde style-y: all stout bodies and dramatically angled "thins"—strokes that reduce a line to a sliver. Each line joins with all the other strokes to make a letter, and communicate. Anyone can write, but who can cut that assemblage of lines into steel, so that a softer metal could be placed on it and "stamped"—a gentle word for a hammer blow. And this was just the first step in Gutenberg's type casting process.

Now, as Gutenberg had to for his B42, let's go make 289 more. Not only did he have to cut upper and lower case but lots of ligatures, punctuation, and so on. No wonder the guy seemed constantly on the verge of financial ruin.

The other copy of the Bible I found less interesting despite its beautiful condition. It seemed to have been put away on publication, and I had to call on my experience to admire the fine print job especially given what must have been rustic conditions. I try to imagine the workshop where it was printed: the smell of oily ink, the illuminators babbling in German, the pressmen exercising their arms, and pressroom lackeys wetting the large sheets of paper and then laying prints out to dry.

I commune with history as long as I can, until I realize I've been away four hours, enveloped in a pink building in the heart of Mainz. It's hard to step away, but also hard to go any deeper. Fine books are like that. You want to hold, hold, hold them, and then if and when you can, the best will disappear in your hands as the story takes over. Gutenberg's masterpiece doesn't "speak" to me except as a sculptural object; I know too little German, and, even if I could read, the text wouldn't sing to me.

Out blinking in the bright autumn light, I feel like I'm shaking off a dream, but this one I remember.

I got to spend four hours in the Gutenberg Museum, R you jealous?

2010-10-06T17:40:00.000-07:00

I've been laying low in blogland as well as provincial Portland. At first, we had to. After Roy heckled a world-famous type designer (sorry, Mr. Barnbrook; thank goodness for the breezy recap kindly published here), we made a quick exit after only a few minutes of basking in his brilliance (he'd just said something wonderful about the naming of fonts and how it was, if I remember right, an opportunity to communicate to a specialized group, where the languages of poetry and design come together).

Then we fled the country altogether. Our happy out: Cousin John's wedding in Germany! Not only did we jump at the chance to finally cash in air miles for free travel, but we opted to extend the trip for a stay en France where I had visions of shacking up in a petite village, finding the best baguette baker, and basking in vacation glow. At the risk of gloating overly, it was all that and more.

The French part of the journey is already a haze of sun-drenched forest and kelly green landscape (with plenty of stops for stinky cheese and saucissons from the market), so it's probably a good thing we were able to wrench ourselves away and get back to business in Germany. That included the Gutenberg Museum in Mainz.

It was hard not to make a run for the B42s, of which the museum has a couple, housed inside a steel encased room with several layers of industrial doors—the kind of stuff you'd see in a Bond movie. Instead, I worked up to the main event, reading about Gutenberg's history, much of it shaped by political skirmishes and the exiles that followed. In fact there seem to be a couple of lost periods in Gutenberg's life—the stuff of novels, perhaps? I want to think he was wandering about China, picking up the craft behind wood and clay type and seeing how that would adapt to his idea for a newfangled printing machine.

Given Gutenberg's credit for the invention of metal movable type, I did wonder how Chinese printing history would fare. It's there, in a wing oddly set off from the main attraction, but full of info and objects.

Add in a few more floors on newspaper history, actual printing machines, papermaking exhibits, watermarking methods, and so on, and your head starts to spin. It's the Bibles, finished in 1455, that ultimately ground you. In the fully defended room, I was alone with them, one in surprisingly rough condition and the other so pristine I almost doubted its authenticity.

More TK.

All ready to get inky

2010-09-01T11:33:00.001-07:00

For Portlanders staying close to home this holiday weekend, come by Em Space during gallery hours from noon to 4 p.m. Sunday, Sept. 5, and visit with me as I set type, perhaps crank up a Vandercook, and generally putz around in an artful manner. The easiest way to get there is to travel south on Water past OMSI, take a left at the first stop sign, straight at the next, then left at the second street where the road T's into the Springwater Trail.

More pictures to entice you:

How windy was it at last month's Letterpress Printers' Fair? We even lost an R.

Let the letterpress love-ins begin

2010-08-17T13:54:00.000-07:00

It was wonderful to be among the presspeople last weekend at the Letterpress Printers Fair, and wonderful too to see the delight in people's eyes last month at Scripps Camp when workshop participants got their first glimpse of the effect of metal pressed into paper. Plus, with just one crank of the Vandercook you go from artisan typesetter to broadcaster.

I promised photos, and here they are of the project, a postcard that went from this /|\ (that's an up arrow, people)

to

with sayings on the opposite side (we even got to practice proofreading)

and here I am modeling the results of our efforts with other Scripps students of yore.

Now hear (and read!) this: sunshine for your ears

2010-08-05T12:37:00.000-07:00

This spring I had the opportunity to edit a book-CD project about Suely Mesquita, a songwriter whose compositions have delighted generations of performers and music lovers, not just in Rio de Janeiro—where she lives—but across that wonderful wide expanse of South American bliss that is Brazil.

For the 146-page book, Mesquita put words to her artistic process, and also provided a treasure trove of photos chronicling a Tropicália childhood through the 1970s and '80s, including experimental musical theater and other adventures of the times. Topping off the package is a 19-song CD that serves as both document and showcase. If you are new to Brazilian music, it's a soulful introduction. If you've already stoked your inner brasileiro/a, it's a virtual, rejuvenating trip south.

Here are a few places to purchase:
Verse Chorus Press
Powell's
Amazon

The official bit:

Sexo Puro: A Life in Brazilian Song
Suely Mesquita, interviewed by Bob Gaulke
published by Lesma e Lula/Verse Chorus Press

Working in the most vibrant music market in the world, Suely Mesquita sings, writes, performs, and teaches all over Brazil, drawing on 30 years of experience and producing more than 500 songs.

An exacting recording artist in her own right, Mesquita has released two albums, Sexo Puro (2002) and Microswing (2004), garnering universal critical acclaim. Writer and Brazilian music fan Bob Gaulke (Embrace Your Insignificance and The Nervous Tourist, both Future Tense Books) interviewed Mesquita over the summer of 2009 to create a multimedia package that serves as an introduction to Mesquita’s work for an international audience.

Gaulke worked with Mesquita to select a CD’s worth of demos, live performances, and representative recordings to accompany Sexo Puro: A Life in Brazilian Song and help tell the story of an exemplary artist’s journey through music.

Coming of age in 1970s Rio de Janeiro, Mesquita has written and recorded for such internationally known artists as Pedro Luís, Zeca Baleiro, Chico Cesar, Zélia Duncan, Celso Fonseca, Chico Saraiva, Fred Martins, Kátia B, Arícia Mess, Glauco Lourenço, Eugenio Dale, Kali C, Luís Capucho, Marcela Biasi, Ney Matogrosso, Fernanda Abreu, George Israel, Leoni, and Moska.

Format: Trade paperback 146 pp. + CD

Suminagashi looks all topographic

2010-07-24T14:37:00.000-07:00

Here's a box that commemorates the creation of a park on Flathead Lake.

Even though the grain didn't run in the right direction for my purposes, and the ink ran when the paper was pasted, I enjoyed working with blueprints as cover and liner paper for the box and the book that fits inside it. (I used Japanese suminagashi paper for elsewhere.)

Volunteer Park will be dedicated Sept. 9, 2010, in Lakeside, Montana: hurrah!

Here's how it looked just a couple of months before.

Some summer so far

2010-07-21T23:45:00.000-07:00

One of the best reasons to attend Scripps College is the chance to go to camp, an all-class invitation to return to Claremont, teach and learn from other alumnae, or just hang at the pool. It's like going back to college—the friends! the stories and laughs! the late-night shenanigans!— only there's no homework and very few rules.

My freshman-year roommate and I taught a workshop at the Scripps Press, where we learned typography a couple of decades ago and set type designed by Mister Goudy himself. Mind you, the institution, almost as old as the college itself, has moved up some notches in the school's estimation, as evidenced by the increasing number of Vandercooks at students' disposal as well as the larger environs in a proper art building instead of the tiny space tucked off the library. The kids these days even have air-conditioning, especially welcome on our days of 100 degrees.

My computer's in the shop so I'm posting this at the neighborhood bank and will post pictures when I get my lifeline back.

In the meantime, come see me at Em Space while I run gallery hours from noon to 4 p.m. tomorrow (that's Sunday, July 25). The easiest way to get there is to drive south on Water past OMSI, take a left at the first stop sign, then go straight (yes "straight") at the next. Ivon is the second street and if you turn left there's usually some parking on the block in front of the studio. If not, try the west side of the street.

The clamshell boxes keep coming

2010-07-01T17:10:00.001-07:00

I dug out some of the older, untested papers in my collection for this round of clamshells. You never know: Sometimes moderno papers with raised patterns such as the above and the red-and-black lacquerlike one that comes later in this post pose too great a risk; you wonder how the paper and its texture will ride over corners and bind to bookboard.

Turns out, no problem! Like the stiff Rohhalbleinen cloth, these papers took paste like it was massage oil and complied with the whole process. Now I wish I had more.

I gave this box at a recent wedding deep in the Oregon Cascades. Congratulations Miles and Maia!

The client liked this box so much, he asked for another.

Here it is. It's 13 by 11 inches and 4 inches deep, about the biggest I can make without too much anxiety. Any larger and it's a mad rush to put it all together before the paste dries.

Arty book roundup lassoed Beijing

2010-06-10T12:02:00.000-07:00

Every few months I google myself and my company, turning up the usual and the not-so (I would love to someday meet the famous Margaret Davis of upstate New York who leads spanking workshops—but not in the woodshed).

Turns out Ma Nao Books was in an exhibition of artist's books I didn't even know about, at Trinity College in Connecticut. The catalog shows Beijing Heart: A Tiananmen Story in excellent company: among works by such stars as Julie Chen, Carol Barton, and Art Spiegelman.

I love how, as a publisher, I send these books out into the world, and they start popping up in places I never expected.

Birch bark: looks good on trees, great on books

2010-06-02T10:38:00.000-07:00

This wonderful book comes courtesy Arini Esarey, who's helped out on many Ma Nao Books editions and studies bookbinding at the North Bennet Street School in Boston. Who knew a great cover paper could be close as the park?

back cover and detail (I'd level out this picture more if I could)

If you squint, it's a mini Guggenheim

2010-05-24T16:58:00.000-07:00

This tower of bookboard will look prettier soon. It's part of the latest wave of clamshell boxes to crest in the studio, brought on by a recent order and commission. I had to dust off my book weights, it had been so long.

Even though I'm still focused more on writing than anything, the bookbinding arm of Ma Nao Books has enjoyed a spike in activity. On top of the recent order came invitations to sell at some neighborhood events, and my gallery made another sale, this time A Tango with Ataturk. With just a few copies left of that book and little else in inventory, it occurs to me I better start creating.

It's all made easier by the incredible board shear and other handy tools at Em Space, saving so much time, utility blades, and wrist pain.

This week we welcomed back our studio friend from a trip to Denmark, where he had arms and legs reattached. That makes for two little monkeys hanging around here.

Love that letterpress

2010-05-04T18:02:00.000-07:00

As of May Day I'm a member of Em Space, a supergroovy print studio and collective in Inner Southeast Portland. After visiting one rainy afternoon earlier this spring, I knew I had to belong. I miss the letterpress in my life, not to mention a facility for prepping for the workshop I'll lead at Scripps Camp this summer.

I can't wait to be among the Vandercooks again.

I'm working gallery hours from 1 to 4 p.m. Sunday, May 9, so feel free to stop on by, keep me company, and see a neat space.

Zai jian to the last of Beijing Heart

2010-04-30T15:41:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been doing a lot more writing than boobkinding, as shown by the less-frequent posts on this blog, but I did get a call from my distributor Vamp & Tramp for more copies of Beijing Heart: A Tiananmen Story.

I found a last copy in my studio, so now it's headed to West Point and the book's officially out of print. The illustration above is one of three in the book, snapped as surreptitiously as possible in the square and hand-printed using a Polaroid transfer process and my trusty DayLab Jr. I was just kicking myself the other day for not stockpiling some 669 film. (For more Polaroid transfers, check out my little online gallery.)

Copy geeks rejoice

2010-04-08T14:35:00.001-07:00

On a recent vacation to that golden place, I delighted in the fact that the San Diego Reader runs a reader-interactive feature called Typo Patrol. Since I'm that kind of person, I circled the mistakes as I read and turned them in. A week or two later and voilà, here comes a check paying $10 per error. Someone's blooper is another's alternative income stream. (Or maybe just dinner out.)

Pulp fascination

2010-03-10T10:12:00.000-08:00

This week amazing paper maker/sculptor and artist Helen Hiebert wraps up her public art installation The Mother Tree at the Portland Building, 1120 S.W. Fifth Ave. The best time to visit is around midday so you too can learn how to contribute a root.

A luminescent marvel of a paper dress rises like a trunk from the lobby floor, where hundreds—thousands?!—of strands of crocheted fibers nest, interweaving, tangling, and trailing to outer edges of the piece. Check here for hours and details.

BTW, I stole the image from Helen's Flickr site, hope she doesn't mind.

And this last image I took from her blog, which documents the growing pile of roots and many of the people who come to weave them.

Properly stored, stories last forever

2010-02-25T17:04:00.001-08:00

From time to time people call me up to discuss their business ventures, a possible project together, or just mutual interests. I invite them over to the studio and we usually end up talking a long time, connecting more deeply and satisfyingly in a way that social networking apps can never match.

It's always fun meeting new people, and as a small business person I appreciate the risks, inspiration, and desire to do something personal, with hopes that it has enough appeal to also be successful.

Gabe Weiss of Bamboo Grove Studio came over after delivering a pile of rock for a masonry project; turns out he studied Chinese medicine, reads characters (always makes me jealous), and runs a letterpress shop. How cool is that?

The space in Inner Southeast feels like a bona-fide Beijing pharmacy; the tango floor proves just as therapeutic.

Then there's Cynthia Brown, whose nascent company aims to help people document their stories. As memories fade quicker than the digital images stored on old, inaccessible hard drives, and traditional repositories, say, the family Bible or keepsake album, decrease in number, one wonders what will happen to the histories. I am forever grateful to one set of grandparents who were pressured to dictate the stories of their lives some years before they died. These sheaves of typewritten pages never fail to delight and entertain, no matter how many times I revisit them, and I expect to pass them to the next generation. (That reminds me—I better build a box.)

Come to think of it, if your family photos stack up nakedly as in the above picture, come see me for a custom light-proof, dust-proof clamshell box to store them for the next several hundred years.

Sometimes the bindery has nothing to do with books

2010-02-23T23:39:00.000-08:00

Like lately. When not editing like mad for the Sexo Puro project and Skyping with the sunny Brazilian songwriter Suely Mesquita, I've squeezed in a few afternoon practicas for tangueras looking to lead.

Some required decluttering of the garage also led to the pivotal point in the marriage when you finally commingle tools.

Thanks to bookbinding I have plenty of mallets for whacking things. It also appears we have plenty of hammers. I have a soft spot for the one I found a few years ago with Mabel Bailey's initials on it. She left it behind long before I moved into her tiny bungalow, from where I oversaw the construction of the bindery. I still feel awe for the woman, who raised four kids in an 800-square-foot house. She probably could have used some tango too.

Watch it while you can

2010-02-05T22:23:00.000-08:00

I just came across a video on YouTube that divulges more than I've ever been able to learn (or see) about the making of China's renowned xuan zhi paper. I myself was cautioned not to travel to Anhui Province to see the process, but thanks to the Internet, we can watch this!

The video also features delightful subtitles. About halfway through some nice Burtynsky-Goldsworthy images come with the commentary "Working on the broad drying yard the locals are enriching the colour of the nature and appear to be holy and magnificent."

A naked book no more

2010-01-27T23:16:00.000-08:00

The client wanted a pamphlet from 1918 bound in the "most Chinese" way possible, and all I could say was that it would have to go in a shutao case. (I love that it translates as "book clothes.")

Here are pictures of the project. I had to cover filler boards to make the pamphlet thick enough to encase. One side of the case has to be wide enough to accommodate the straps that hold the biezi (bone clasps) in place.

Here's the case hinged with Japanese paper.

The case shown partially covered, with the filler boards.

The case folded and awaiting the mallet.

My "pounding station." Everyone should have one.

Two whacks and we're halfway there.

Here I am trying to obey my rule of photographing every thing I make, hustling to get the job out the door. But my plan is cut short by a small sock-footed creature.

The smallest jobs can mean the most

2010-01-27T22:50:00.000-08:00

People often ask if I do restoration/conservation work on old books, and aside from making protective clamshell boxes and other noninvasive treatments, I don't. But I do make some exceptions.

Roy possibly loves his TRUCK book more than he loves TRUCKs themselves (and yes he does say TRUCK like that). So it was with heavy heart that we saw how much his favorite tome was falling apart; in fact, I doubted the book would make it to his second birthday. Luckily, I'm a bookbinder!

I took this "before" picture after I'd already made a lot of repairs to the spine and split pages. The book barely hung together.

Another happy customer

Upgrades all over

2010-01-27T11:28:00.001-08:00

After months of deliberation, I finally fell for the Epson printer. I like how it stacks up with the old-school bookbinding equipment in the bindery. Add in the new speakers, and I'm all set for printing, binding, and dancing in the Year of the Tiger.

No soap here, but there's plenty to get your hands dirty

2010-01-06T00:10:00.000-08:00

Sometimes life's adventures pay off in surprising ways. In the thick of Crafty Wonderland another vendor from Bellingham, Washington, came over to talk books; taking a break with her made for one of the most relaxing and pleasant quarter-hours of the day.

I always forget what a bonus such networking can be, because I must have received at least a dozen visits to my Web site based on the blurb that Amber wrote for the company she works for, Bramble Berry, which aims to meet every soap maker's needs and fantasies. Amber said her boss was focused and ambitious, wanting to be the Martha Stewart of the soap world. Well, more power to her, and thanks Amber for the blog mention!

Who knows, maybe all those soap makers need is a little manual on Chinese bookbinding to get them going on drier pursuits? The writing proceeds marvelously. I love digging in my brain like this, smiling over all the vivid memories and smells. I even relived my Beijing first bike crash the other day, so much safer (and less embarrassing) at the distance of time and place.

Paving the way for a perfect '10

2010-01-04T10:39:00.000-08:00

Before I get too starry-eyed about the present and future (so much easier now that the antibiotic fog has lifted), let's review '09. I finished A Tango Diary, made progress on the Schack family tribute, and sent Ataturk out to the masses—via my distributor Vamp & Tramp.

We packed up our show at TaborSpace this weekend, and lo, but two of my three pieces sold, so that starts the new year on a winning note. Right now, 2010 is all about write now, and so today I set my timer (per Chuck Palahniuk's writing advice) for an hour and I bent knuckles to keyboard and I wrote. I wrote until the ticking faded away, until I was digging deep into soul and memory finding the best words to describe the flavor-punch offerings at Beijing's Jiaozi King and imagining my way back to when I first dug into China.

The best thing: When the alarm went off, I kept on writing. I floated on that creativity high until the wee one's nap ended, but the buzz lasted all afternoon.

That's right, the Chinese bookbinding manual, a contender on last year's list, is in the No. 1 spot now. Every time I check into Statcounter to see my Web traffic in detail, I'm always shocked to see the number of visitors coming to my site on account of their entering "Chinese bookbinding" in a search engine. Sometimes they stay for a long time, too, hopefully gleaning inspiration and excitement for books and their history.

It's an international crowd, with many surfers shooting in from Paris, especially, and Vietnam, Malaysia, even Laos. The other week I noticed someone from Botswana had gone looking, yes, for "Chinese bookbinding" but decided to spend a few minutes with Ma Nao Books along the way. So this manual goes out, perhaps, to that buddy in Botswana (jambo rafiki!) and all those looking to learn more. I plan to include not only technical information on making some of the oldest bindings but a personal narrative of those formative months learning in the cradle of the craft.

So here's the new year's list per usual,

To do
• Update Web site
• Chinese bookbinding manual & memoir
• Editing on Suely Mesquita project
• Schack family tribute
• shutao commission
• New York Chinatown book collaboration with the Harleys

To move forward
• Saucymorons
• An Adventurer's Guide to Rose City Cemetery

To consider for development
• World trip
• China times
• Essay on what newspapers were for Roy
• Portland bridges in Polaroid
• Chiyogami tea caddy and cell-phone recharging cradle
• MFA program

Art-fair verdict: My brain pays more than my hands

2009-12-14T11:28:00.001-08:00

More than 7,500 people swarmed into Crafty Wonderland yesterday, where I was one of 200 vendors offering creative wares for the holiday shoppers. A few of them even became my customers. I made a small profit, which in this economy makes the event a success, no? And people asked for hundreds of my cards. I also soaked up the praise: The Postcard Writer's Companion, for instance, was routinely proclaimed "a great idea!" and captured many folks' attention. Others made a point of saying how nicely done my work was, and how beautiful.

But when you take into account the number of hours it took to prepare, and the number of sales, well, there's a reason I went to sleep last night dreaming instead of an "Artisan Wonderland." I think back to my most successful outings, chief among them the annual juried show at the Japanese Garden, where I almost always sold everything I made. The crowd was probably one-tenth of Crafty Wonderland's, but it was well-attuned to fine crafts, and willing to pay for them. Of course, it helps that I cover everything in exquisite Japanese chiyogami paper.

So the search for my niche continues. In the meantime, I have a big editing job that pays more than what I earned yesterday at the Oregon Convention Center. It's time to put away the bonefolder and crack the dictionary.

above: a letter & bill holder covered in Japanese paper and Rohhalbleinen bookcloth. Beautiful, useful & durable — but worth it?

Watch how it worms its way into your heart

2009-12-07T15:56:00.000-08:00

Every time I think I should stop making A Postcard Writer's Companion, I make more — and fall in love with the form all over again. For Crafty Wonderland I made a fresh batch, still thrilled with this book that fits right in your hands and the chiyogami that beams back with its brilliant pattern.

Manufacturing analysts take into account the number of times you "touch" a product, with the usual implication that the more touches the more time, and the more opportunities for risking its destruction. The Postcard Writer's Companion is quite a "touchy" item, well, that's the nature of hand bookbinding in general. But then there's all the little tweaks, the pockets, the structure of the pockets, the pasting, and then the final inlay of the seal on the back cover. No wonder I fall in love — I'm fondling this thing all day long.

BTW, here's a video on the Artspace show at TaborSpace, Southeast 55th and Belmont. It's up all month, so go and satisfy your coffee and art jones all in one surreal place. Oh, and the scones are money.

Books bathed in light

2009-11-30T15:38:00.000-08:00

Setting up for the show at TaborSpace today (Southeast 55th and Belmont), I wiped down the stained-glass windows that form the background of my "book" display and boy did they glow. Perhaps they are too beautiful to be background even? I found myself wondering if they were from the famous Povey Brothers and whether my art was worthy of the space. It's an awesome spot for my work, sitting as it does right near the entrance, with a sloping brick shelf setting the "stage."

You're all invited to stop by tomorrow (Dec. 1) from 7 p.m. to 9 p.m. for refreshments and cheer at the opening reception. It won't be as awash in wine as our last opening (hic), but what else would you do on a Tuesday night?

photo by Mario -- thanks Mario!

History's no open book

2009-11-21T17:22:00.001-08:00

I've wanted to make this piece ever since a Chinese friend arrived at my Beijing apartment breathless, saying, “Did you hear? The government changed. It calls Tiananmen ‘turmoil’ now instead of ‘revolt.'"

Using a pretty piece of paper-backed cloth from one of the art shops on Liulichang, I bound a batch of pages and then, satisfyingly, stitched up both sides of the book. I like how the form so speaks to tradition, not only of the style of old Chinese books (xian zhuang, or thread-bound) but also the tradition of tightly controlling information.

The title is:

The Official Word on an Episode in Chinese History

or what I imagine political leaders must want to say about that fateful day of "six-four" in 1989.

Now for the next marketing push

2009-11-20T11:26:00.000-08:00

With the word out about A Tango Diary, I'm on to the next projects: Super Colossal Crafty Wonderland on Dec. 13 and, before that, the Artspace at TaborSpace show, for which I've finished ONE piece.

Better stop posting and get cracking.

Where have you been all my bookbinding life?

2009-11-17T10:15:00.000-08:00

I swear, sometimes what keeps me from bouts of bookbinding is the long, painful cleanup at the end, in particular washing the PVA and paste out of my brush. I feel like I'm draining the Bull Run watershed trying to get all those little white elastic bits out of the bristles.

On a lark I stopped in at my neighborhood hardware store and lo, the brush comb! What a difference a tool can make. I whip this thing out and my brush is clean in about 10 percent of the time it used to take. I have so much extra time I can post to my blog!

In a pinch, I bet you could even fix your hair with it but. very. carefully.

Finish work takes forever

2009-11-08T23:53:00.001-08:00

I should have finished A Tango Diary weeks ago, but I always forget: The real work of bookbinding seems to come at the back end. It's not like, say, painting a room, where prepwork accounts for the bulk of the task. Oh no. Once you've printed, collated, and sewn the signature, then bound the thing, you have to put on the covers (careful now), knock up nice rounded-but-square corners (all four of them) and paste in endpapers (I made this extra-worky by putting in pockets; tell me, what books have pockets these days?).

All that takes about 35 more minutes per copy if I'm plugging along. It starts to seem like bookbinding's all about covering your tracks. Rough edges are trimmed and tucked away. Marked-up bookboard gets covered up completely and quickly like Mormon underwear. There are parts of the book the reader never sees. With A Tango Diary, it cracks me up that the pockets are lined, and I wonder if anyone will notice that flash of buff-colored Japanese paper as they slide in a business card.

But wait, we're still not done. I then stamp the colophon with my Chinese chop, and number the edition. Somewhere in here I should start the marketing, too. Speaking of, here's the suite of promo pix.

Crafty Wonderland here we come

2009-10-28T19:54:00.001-07:00

Out of 400 entrants, I'm one of 200 vendors picked to show my stuff at the so-called Super Colossal Crafty Wonderland holiday sale happening Sunday, Dec. 13, at the Oregon Convention Center. Yippee! I'm sharing a table with the fabulous jewelry designer Angela Muldoon; we met at the Blackbird sale last year.

Along with another Beaumont Artspace show coming up in December at TaborSpace, and a few other deadlines looming, I've got plenty of irons in the fire. I'm also only about a third of the way through A Tango Diary. The marketing blitz for that should begin first part of November.

Here are the new bindery shelves by our rockin' cabinet man.

They're already useful.

Just in time for TangoFest

2009-10-08T14:33:00.000-07:00

The Tango Diary's been bound for at least a month now, but now it has covers and can be released to the world! I hope to get it to the festival this weekend, then launch an online marketing blitz.

What's cooler than an iPhone? The box it comes in

2009-09-08T09:16:00.000-07:00

My husband bought an iPhone, and I got the box. Covered in Japanese chiyogami, it becomes an exquisite place to store stuff.

Will I get in trouble with Apple for putting my seal on the bottom?

Let's put some well wishes in it

2009-08-31T17:33:00.000-07:00

Congratulations to the soon-to-be newlyweds!

Our cousin and her fiancé are getting married next month, and here's the party album I made. I hadn't seen this chiyogami pattern before, but it totally suits the couple and the style of the event — a fun and casual afternoon and evening in the park.

Here's some double deckle-action detail (bookbinder's tongue-twister)

Bindery kicks into action

2009-08-14T10:37:00.000-07:00

My awesome assistant arrived from Walla Walla, and we got to work on the latest edition, 50 copies of A Tango Diary. I letterpressed the title page a few weeks ago (recognize the Sexo Puro font?), so we jumped right in collating little bundles of paper tucked inside thick endpapers that will form pockets on the inside of both covers.

Arini did all the sewing, and then came the boards and spines.

Here's the yummy Moroccan leather I'm using for five of them.

I can't go to Brazil, but my books are

2009-07-15T16:20:00.001-07:00

Tonight my prototype for a book plus CD/DVDs heads off to Brazil with Bob, where he's planning to spend time with Suely Mesquita and document her Sexo Puro songwriting movement. I'm jealous as hell, but thrilled I got to play a part in the project.

Here are details of the "musibook" format I came up with.

I came across 72 pt. Legend font in the type drawers at OCAC, and this project made a perfect reason to use it.

BTW, Suely's music totally inspires. I can't stop listening, in particular to "Zona E Progresso" from her Microswing. Listen to the "radio" stream long enough on her site and you'll eventually hear it, and a lot more.

Now don't you wish you were in Brazil, too?

Write on: After the milonga, recording the dances to remember

2009-06-23T22:50:00.000-07:00

Here's a prototype of A Tango Diary (actually, I'm not even sure that should be the name). The cover will be different; I just used a tiny piece of leftover chiyogami from years ago.

I would love to find a way to have a dancer's shoes mark up a massive piece of paper that I would cut into pieces for the book, but apart from dancing on a shoe with a sole made of graphite, I'm kind of out of ideas. Anyway, I have time.

It's a tidy little book, fits nicely in the palm of your hand and also a pants or jacket pocket, and of course the shoe bag or purse. I mean to letterpress at least a title page and maybe a colophon, and that's it. The beauty of this book is in its spareness. The stories provide the color.

I did include two pockets at both ends of the book, for business cards, slips of paper, milonga tickets, and the like.

Here's a detail of the inset on the cover. The plan is to either letterpress or write the title in calligraphy and paste it in.

Wedding bells and wedding clamshells

2009-06-21T17:24:00.000-07:00

I ignored my recent rule of photographing everything I make. But the box was a present for a wedding this weekend, and it needed to get out the door fast.

At the same time I made a couple of other similar-size clamshells for fun, using unusual chiyogami paper I hadn't tested. They turned out great. The red wave-patterned chiyogami almost feels like lacquer to the touch, and it certainly looks like it.

the inside

I covered the other box with chiyogami that shows about a dozen different scenes, from mountain climbers to travelers going by boat. It was tough picking out the 12-by-8-inch piece to go on the cover, but I finally settled on the boat scene because of the water's iridescence.

I love the guy's smile at the right.

A peek inside

I have more pictures to post, but my camera got run over

2009-06-15T16:50:00.000-07:00

Despite the technical difficulties, I do have this image to share with you — taken of most of the participating artists at the reception for Art Among Us here in bustling Beaumont Village.

The event neared magical, with the turnout exceeding all expectations. The wine shop glowed in the warm-cool night (with no rain, it must be noted), bottles of vino verde glistened as Andy poured it on, and the volume of art and wine lovers rose to a happy din.

Art Among Us indeed

2009-06-01T13:52:00.001-07:00

Yesterday we hung the show at Blackbird Wineshop. It's Ataturk's big debut, and I'm also showing some letterpress-printed handmade paper. Hopefully, since it's in the window, the landlord either won't notice or — better — won't care.

Here are more pics of the show as we were hanging it.

Ma Nao Books delivers a bedroom set

2009-05-28T17:45:00.000-07:00

My latest commission was his & hers waste baskets and tissue boxes for the bedside. I've decided to try using Rohhalbleinen on everything these days, including the rims of waste paper bins.

A friend came over recently to cram a small but ambitious bookbinding project and I coaxed her into using the Rohhalbleinen, mostly because I wondered at our ability to convert her hemp fabric into bookcloth. We had many problems to solve before midnight, but the Rohhalbleinen definitely wasn't one of them.

Another week, another clamshell

2009-05-20T09:36:00.001-07:00

In between boxes I'm trying to grok my presentation for the upcoming show at Blackbird Wineshop.

I'd love to bank on it

2009-05-05T12:24:00.000-07:00

Thanks to statcounter.com, where I can check who visits my Web site and for how long, I know that the folks at Umpqua Bank just checked me out. I hope they check the Etsy site, too, as that's where the most stuff is. Our local branch showcases the work of a neighborhood business every quarter, and gee — wouldn't it be great if they picked me?!

Meanwhile, I'm wrapping up the clamshell commission. I never tire of making these boxes. I remember my first one. Coming home from Artists Book Works, all I did was sit and open and shut it, amazed. My roommate caught me doing it again hours later and wondered if I'd gone nuts.

I must have made hundreds by now, and I was so excited recently to hear an awesome testimonial on my answering machine from a customer who'd been given a clamshell from the Japanese Garden show ages ago. He raved about how well it had held up over the years and thanked me for my "craftswomanship." It made my day.

Here's the latest, for a wedding photo album.

I love how the chiyogami paper pops in the light.

Rejected!

2009-04-24T10:54:00.001-07:00

All my dithering over whether to apply for Portland Open Studios hardly mattered; I didn't get in anyway. But perhaps I can try something new and different instead, say, a Crafty Wonderland or even a more homespun artisans' open house.

Right now, tho, I've got to complete three commissions — hooray! And I would love to hit the local paper sale before it ends this month, anticipating needs for the tango diary in particular.

I finally got around to making the scrap-paper bin for the bindery, replacing this lovely:

with

Constructed of bookboard, covered in handmade Nepali paper, and rimmed with Rohhalbleinen bookcloth, it should stand some whacking around by the studio monitor.

9 new Chinese-bookbinding angels created

2009-04-06T14:51:00.000-07:00

The sign up at the Oregon College of Art & Craft this weekend said it all, even if incorrectly (the real title of the workshop is "Heavenly Head, Earthly Foot" — after two historical Chinese terms for book anatomy — but hey I like "Heavenly Hands" even better!).

It was a fun weekend, spent among fellow book lovers-makers and spreading the gospel of Zhang Ping and some know-how and tales behind one of China's oldest, proudest traditions.

I enjoyed the teaching so much that I'm getting more serious about offering classes in my studio.

But first, these hands, feeling not so celestial, need some rest.

Ready or not, here Chinese bookbinding comes

2009-04-03T10:52:00.000-07:00

I've been making more models in my studio, having some zenlike moments sculpting paper, board & cloth, and looking forward to this weekend's workshop at Oregon College of Art & Craft. Plus, I hear it's supposed to be good weather, which means the sun will be shining up the space and warming our work.

Making the set in miniature, I realized how hard it is to work so small. (Or maybe I'm just less dexterous?) Here's a pic of the wee ones with the adult size we'll make this weekend.

Save the date

2009-03-23T13:16:00.003-07:00

Our neighborhood Artspace group has a show coming up, well, right in the neighborhood.

Hoarding has its rewards

2009-03-20T20:49:00.000-07:00

I've almost got a full house for my bookbinding class at Oregon College of Art & Craft in a couple of weeks, so I'm checking out the supply situation. In my late-night digs around the studio, I came upon a bunch of already-cut text paper and cover cloth. So now, thankfully, I won't have to (find and) order more bookcloth like I'd feared, especially because I still miss Aiko's so much.

Ma Nao Books doubles its retail outlets!

2009-03-18T00:27:00.001-07:00

At last, there's a Ma Nao Books shop on Etsy.

Now I just have to go stock it.

We got all dressed up for the photo shoot

2009-03-06T13:00:00.001-08:00

That is, A Tango with Ataturk did.

I am forever flummoxed by tabletop photography but have come to realize Photoshop is something I can't continue to resist, especially if I want to open the Etsy shop. And I have excellent teachers!

Here's the semifinalists for the www site, including

a face-to-face encounter

a look inside the binding -----------v

v----- a full-length shot with cover

v----- a detail of the pressure printing, images of the shoe shapes used in old-fashioned dance diagrams. These shapes do their own dance through the pages of A Tango with Ataturk.

Here's some wood type & the colophon

and a possible new image for the www masthed (Be Mine is so Been There)

To apply or not to apply

2009-03-03T11:52:00.000-08:00

That's my Portland Open Studios question.

Pros: About a hundred people more found out about my work than otherwise would. It's fun meeting people and turning them on to bookbinding, if only in very small ways. I'm forced to clean up my studio.

Cons: Sales weren't stellar. Some people were more interested in anything but my work. I have no shortage of other projects. I'm forced to clean up my studio.

With applications due soon, I've got to decide. For sure, if I did apply I'd only go for the open-one-weekend option.

The making of "A Tango with Ataturk"

2009-02-11T11:39:00.000-08:00

I tried to document the production of my latest book step by step, but because the glue dries so fast I had to skip a few at the end.

Although I haven't started marketing the book, I did write up a blurb:

Mustafa Kemal Ataturk brought many things to Turkey as he pulled it out of the Ottoman Age and into the modern world: an alphabet, a secular government, freedom from capricious and oppressive religious rule, and a new-found sense of patriotism in the land where Europe and Asia meet.

He also brought tango.

A Tango with Ataturk, based on a story about a 1926 reception that Ataturk hosted as his nascent country's new leader, imagines what happens from the perspective of a female tango dancer that night, and how everything can feel so right and wrong at the same time.

The book was printed using wood and metal type as well as pressure printing; the pages passed through the Vandercook four times over several months.

For the binding, I started with a nice piece of bookboard. How I love to cut bookboard (lie).

I chopped it into front and back covers.

To make the inset tray for the book, I pasted strips of bookboard around the edges of the back cover.

A piece of card will reinforce the bookcloth at the spine.

All the pieces are assembled on the cloth, and corners marked with a pencil.

I had to make sure the cloth would roll over the foredge to cover the inner edge of the tray.

Ready for glue!

Using the triangle helps ensure straightness. Once the cloth has paste on it, it will buckle and warp and give you that little bookbinding adrenaline rush.

It doesn't hurt to bonefold the heck out if it at every opportunity.

Fold along the spine and bonefold some more for nice crisp edges.

Now it's time to cut corners.

Fold the cloth over all edges, and—you got it—bonefold away. Then place liner cloth and do the same.

Lay in book, repeat ten times, then celebrate (preferably with tango).

Feeling bullish on the Ox? I am.

2009-01-26T20:38:00.000-08:00

The fourth try's the charm

2009-01-23T14:06:00.000-08:00

It took me several stabs to get the "binding" (a box really) right for A Tango with Ataturk, but I finally got there. The simpler I made it, the better it became. I'm glad I have enough of the Turkish-flag red bookcloth to do the edition, all 10 copies of it!

I should be shifted into production mode, but instead I'm already spending more time promoting the book than finishing it. I wonder if it seems I spend an inordinate amount of time promoting versus creating (about 3-to-1) because I so prefer the latter to the former? In other words, promoting takes me longer because I really do have to work at it?

If only they had Gantt charts for bookbinders

2009-01-18T21:43:00.000-08:00

Here are the projects slated for the Year of the Ox and the deadlines:

To do
• A Tango with Ataturk (January)
• Update Web site (February)
• Chinese bookbinding manual & memoir (April)
• Lois Langland residency application (June)
• Grandpa John & Idamae tribute (November)
• Tango Diary

To move forward
• Saucymorons
• An Adventurer's Guide to Rose City Cemetery

To consider for development
• World trip
• China times
• Essay on what newspapers were for Roy
• Portland bridges in Polaroid
• Chiyogami tea caddy and cell-phone recharging cradle

I"m amazed I posted anything at all today, given how glued I was to coverage of the inauguration. I could barely tear myself away to make the Oba-mousse that we're taking to the party tonight.

An ode to Aiko's

2009-01-09T17:53:00.000-08:00

In my Chicago years, naturally I came to know Aiko's, a Japanese bookbinding-supply store with a museumlike presence on North Clark Street. The minimalist exterior hinted at nothing special; you had to stop and take in the tiny window displays to really understand that this, in fact, was a store. One you could even enter.

Inside it was pure beauty and, usually, solitude — maybe another reason why Aiko's didn't or couldn't stay open. The papers, full sheets unlike the halves now offered by so many other retail operations, lay stacked in shelves, every one a riot of color and pattern. When unfurled on the long tables, they crackled visually like fireworks in the neutral surroundings.

The bookcloth, that utilitarian fabric that makes a book function, flowed from bolts in every color but heavy on the jewel tones: crimson magenta, bright mossy green, a shimmery gold. I would save up for the silks, and buy by the quarter yard.

Despite having left the Midwest more than 14 years ago, I looked forward to placing phone orders every year or so. First, I'd fondle the swatchbook, then call and imagine the phone ringing in the quiet shop, and then the bright, breath-y woman would answer.

The Aiko's site now refers its customers to another supplier of Japanese bookcloth, but there's a 5-yard minimum, so the color had better be the one you wanted. I went scrummaging for my swatchbook, wondering if it would still apply.

Oddly, the date Aiko's closed is the day Roy was born, so perhaps our son brings with him a reincarnation of that store's gorgeous Japanese style and presentation. One can hope.

Nothing matches letterpress

2008-12-31T23:36:00.000-08:00

Years ago I took a papermaking weekend workshop with the fabulous Helen Hiebert. Camping at a tree farm in Southwest Washington, we collected plants that we pounded, cooked, and stirred, then pulled sheets (if that's what it's called) while the rain steadily dripped. I saved the paper — which we made not only from fibers collected that weekend but also of pulp that Helen brought along, corn husk, say, and banana and flax — and while taking letterpress this fall I put it in service of an Atatürk quote I found.

Cranking with the Vandercook, the ink spitting between the rollers, I made a few prints, admiring all the while how the letters, particularly in a large display font, take the sculptural form that the type designer intended. The paper is more than just stamped; it takes a permanent shape and color. It undulates for the power of words. And lead.

In this last detail, it almost looks as if the letters poke out instead of in. I wondered if the raw texture of the paper would result in uneven impression, but the type all turned out quite uniform, which serves to further highlight the paper's topograpy.

Snow + rain = ice = art opportunity

2008-12-24T13:04:00.000-08:00

It was fun slicing up pieces of ice crust in the yard to make a winter lantern. It burned for five hours last night, and if the snow keeps up, I'll be able to light it up for a few more nights yet.

You could say it was love at first sight

2008-12-19T11:46:00.000-08:00

This mermaid by Jessie Benenson stole my heart soon as I spied her. She was a high point of last night, along with meeting the other artists showing work at Blackbird Wineshop's Handmade Holiday.

With the slush outside turning to ice slicks, attendance tapered to dismal, but supporters livened things up at regular intervals, and Andy kept the piquant wines flowing.
Talking art and laughing with some like minds made for a wonderfully warm evening.

Here's the bindery muse where I found her this morning; I'm wondering, what is her name?

Finally, a last irresistible detail:

They say alcohol's recession-proof, so here's a pairing: wine & Blackbird's Handmade Holiday

2008-12-15T21:31:00.000-08:00

I'll have portfolios, the few remaining Postcard Writer's Companions, the chiyogami tissue boxes, and maybe some Polaroid transfers at a sale 5 p.m. to 9 p.m. Thursday, Dec. 18, at Blackbird Wineshop, 3519 NE 44th (at Fremont). Come relax, have a glass, and take in the wares from eight local microbusinesses.

Neighbors making movies

2008-12-12T12:13:00.000-08:00

A random Google search (I'm so vain!) just turned up this clip on YouTube, and Ma Nao Books is in it. Thanks Helen & Mario, newsletter pros, art lovers, and plain wonderful neighbors.

Packing up my stickiest commission yet

2008-12-06T22:38:00.000-08:00

Actually, I should say the commission wasn't sticky enough, given I had to make the giant clamshell box twice on account of the Great Wheat Starch Paste Failure of 2008. What went wrong? I see online that refrigerating the paste can compromise its efficacy, so I'll go with that answer for now, even though it doesn't explain why my paste never failed before.

Granted I still have a couple more clamshells to go, for a couple of the objects shown here, a stack of turn-of-the-century photographs and an Edwardian cigarette case. I'm happy to say I have the structure defined for A Tango with Atatürk, the letterpress project I finished earlier this month. (It won't be blue, however.) The tiny 10-copy edition just awaits the time I need to box it.

Must the Polaroid fun come to an end?

2008-11-19T23:45:00.000-08:00

With Polaroid throwing in the towel, I ordered up some of the remaining 669 film, hauled out the DayLab Junior, and we made a day of printing pictures.

Here's a shot I took in Eastern Oregon on the way to John Day a few years ago:

I also printed quite a few images from one frigid November morning in Beijing last year. We stayed with our friend Jess in her courtyard house nestled in one of the old hutong (alley) neighborhoods, a gray-walled warren of one-story dwellings. It's the kind of place regularly yielding to the shiny high-rises that signal the New Beijing.

I love how the Polaroid coloring sets off a time warp; are these pictures from a hundred years ago or 2007? And I love the fact that almost every image I took that frosty day features a red door and a bicycle.

They came, they saw ...

2008-10-26T14:16:00.000-07:00

Over the two weekends that I was open for Portland Open Studios, about a hundred people visited, even some celebrities! Thanks go to the 5000s for sales strategy and advice, even though my "recession discount" received no takers except from the customer who knew no such deal existed when selecting his purchases.

Clearly, I am better at making my work than selling it.

I did have fun setting up the bindery so that there was a reading room, complete with a book-model petting zoo.

Then I pulled together a slide show of my work that played continuously on the iMac in my, ahem, "auditorium." Many people plopped themselves in a chair to take in the whole thing.

I was working in the background, making clamshell boxes. It was a bonus being forced to work in the studio and get some projects out of the way.

Then I had a merchandise section, full of portfolios, Postcard Writer's Companions, and the tissue boxes. I love how the chiyogami pops in the light.

Probably the biggest success of the weekend was all the educating I got to do on behalf of Chinese bookbinding, along with the chance to recruit students for my OCAC class (April 4 and 5, doncha know). And I did get to make some clamshell boxes, of which this one turned out the best. It's the long-overdue home for the book models I made at the National Library of China.

Now raise your hand if you're ready for Portland Open Studios

2008-10-10T13:01:00.000-07:00

The prints sit packaged in Arini's beautiful box.

Only the press rests.

I shoulda splurged on new Omnimats

2008-10-04T11:17:00.000-07:00

Here's a couple shots of what's up in the bindery, with most of the portfolios still swathed in waxed paper and blotter and in various stages of completion.

Arini has been a huge help and came with a loaded Nano for our long hours of listening pleasure.

Here's next week's project (we haven't even gotten to the Postcard Writer's Companion), but hey that's what deadlines are for.

Anyone looking for Portland Open Studios tickets ($15; Oct. 11, 12, 18 & 19), let me know. I'm going to pick up a bunch this weekend.