Archive for category drawing
This is a little unnecessary and self-gratifying, but below are some of the drawings from the project I started at the outset of our travels. These drawings are from the books:
Great Expectations (Charles Dickens)
The Great War for Civilisation (Robert Fisk)
Duck, Death and the Tulip (Wolf Erlbruch)
Gulliver’s Travels (Jonathan Swift)
I have been thinking about the way that non-fiction books order information and considering ways in which this could be translated via my own practice and interests to create a new book. so far there seems to be some major and essential step missing, but i have taken pleasure in a book on bedding plants….. a lovely title once it is out of context. I am interested in translating the photos in the book via tracing in fine-liner to simplify the images with a 70’s flower-power aesthetic.
i am enjoying the translation via scanning, reducing size and printing, in terms of making a book i like that the finished work is the printed image, not the tracing itself. i.e. the image in the book is the work, not the documentation of the work.
When I was a child my family had a book called Wait And See. In my recollection it is small, squarish with a hard cover and cotton stitching that was somewhat old and sagging, so that the pages were a bit loose. The book had some story about a girl, which I don’t remember at all. What I do remember is that every second page of the book said “wait and see” the words were in quite small font, right in the middle of the page, like this:
Mostly I used to read the book by reading every second page, the wait and see page. Maybe it was because I was not very good at reading, or maybe compared to the trite stories most children’s books contained ‘wait and see’ was quite compelling. Read this way it was all waiting and no seeing. The potential was endless.
Not that this has too much to do with an artist’s book, which presumably has as much to do with seeing as waiting. It does however have a bit to do with looking at a book (as opposed to reading it for its story) I remember this book as a tactile object; it’s thin yellowed pages slightly loose on their cottons and those little words floating in the empty page. I also, retrospectively, remember it as a performative moment, I could choose how to read the book, and by so doing reinvent it entirely. I did not have to be an obedient viewer reading from beginning to end, it worked just as well backwards.