Undefining the Book Art Field
filed in Artists' Books, Book Art on Nov 01, 2008
The word-of-the-day is movement.
Not a ground-shattering word, but one the book art field might benefit from employing more liberally. I’ve recently returned from a stimulating four days at the New York Contemporary Artists’ Books Conference/New York Art Book Fair, where I had my eyes opened to a lot of interesting works and ideas, many of which differed significantly from the manner in which I work and think about books. It was delightfully refreshing.
I wonder, however, at the persistent desire (in evidence at the conference) to define the totality of book art by a mere slice of the field. This happens both explicitly as well as implicitly. It is easy to spot the explicit definitional statements that some people seem compelled to employ (and there is at least something to be said for the candor of such explicitness), but even more pervasive are the implicit assumptions that underlie much of the field’s discourse—discourse framed by an obliviousness to the very idea that not everyone shares one’s selfsame perspective. Take, for instance, the impetus to create inexpensive, easily distributed books—the democratic multiple. Why is it that so many artists and publishers talk about that motivation as a given that is universally shared among book artists, rather than as a particular approach that they themselves happen to have embraced?
To put it another way, why, as a field, are we so resistant to the idea of eras and/or movements within our medium? If I were a painter I could go to the Met and look at medieval paintings and I could go to MoMA and see conceptual paintings, but would I then try to assert that this one is not painting because the painter’s approach and interests differ from mine? So why is it so common to display a need to define away much of the activity in the book art field? To not be satisfied with saying “this is my slice within a greater whole.” Even our conferences tend to divide along these lines with relatively homogenous programs and points of view. Having been to the Wellesley conference and this New York conference, each were so good in their own way, but you’d think I was on two different planets.
Context is a such a useful thing, and there is a certain degree of honesty that comes with framing one’s remarks with phrases like “I believe” and “from my perspective” instead of implying one’s ideas are universal with “artists’ books are” or “we all want to…” At some level this is a rhetorical issue, but rhetoric is powerful. And not only that, it can be quite revealing of ones prejudices.
I have to admit to something that will likely be heresy to some. Ed Ruscha’s books do not rock my world. I understand how and why they were significant, but they are of an era and of a type and I am of a different era and a different type. As such, I feel no need to reject them but neither do I embrace them as fundamentally definitional. They may have defined a movement but they do not define a field. I find them interesting for what they are (and were) and I learn from that, but I also learn a lot (probably even more) from books that are quite different, such as the William Kentridge I just bought at the NY Art Book Fair (I’ll have to write later on the books I bought and saw…). And then look at something like Oliver Byrne’s Euclid from which there is so much to be gained but which makes irrelevant the importance of declaring whether it falls in or out of those carefully drawn definitional boundaries.
In my talk at this NY Contemporary Artist’s Book conference I characterized the field as an archipelago full of islands that don’t interact. I’ve had more people come up to me and try to convince me of the virtues and exclusivity of their island. I’d rather fashion myself as a traveler – set out in some ships and establish some trade routes. Exploration seems to me to be such an excellent means to innovation and devleopment. I know this sounds a little too much like a “can’t we all just get along” speech. I’m not sure I’m asking for everyone to get along. I just think we should acknowledge each other and forgo the partisan rhetoric.


November 4th, 2008 on 3:20 am
Hi Elisabeth, I just wanted to say hello, and that I really liked your thoughts about the world of artists’ books being an archipelago. I know you’re on Artist Books 3.0 and wondered if you’d followed the discussion about trying to change the term from ‘artists’ books’ (and the variations thereon) to ‘artists’ publications’? I found the whole thing unsatisfying. Why try and find one definition to fit everything? Anyway, best of luck with your ambition to post every week! I find myself verbose and silent in turn. Best wishes, Sara
November 4th, 2008 on 5:34 am
Hi Elizabeth,
Your article was profoundly well written and greatly needed. This would be a better world if more people were
less judgmental and more open minded. It is one thing to have the courage of ones own convictions without foisting them on everyone else. Many people deny them selves
intellectual and creative growth by such attitudes. This
is about life in general as well as the book arts. May I
quote you?
JMP
http://www.joanmichaels.paque.com
http://www.flickr.com/photos/jmpatelier/
November 6th, 2008 on 5:42 pm
Thank you. I am happy to have people quote me for non-commercial purposes and I’ve actually just added a Creative Commons license to the blog to make that more obvious.
-EL
November 19th, 2008 on 5:46 pm
Hello,
I’m getting ready to do a presentation on Book Arts/Artists’ Books for a History of the Books class in my library science program. I want to use most of your last paragraph–along with quotes from Johanna Drucker and Sandy Kroupa–to help me define (and “undefine”) the art and field of Book Arts. I will cite your blog, and hope that’s ok…
Thanks,
Mimi Wheatwind
December 4th, 2008 on 12:56 am
Elisabeth, this is an erudite and excellent post. Thank you.
Joan said, “Many people deny them selves
intellectual and creative growth by such attitudes.”
This is true, but it is also a personal choice. However, I need to point out that when these attitudes enter the academic sphere in the form of ‘canons’ and/or curricular bias (as they so often do), open growth is denied to the very people who are actively seeking to achieve it. That, my friends, is detrimental to the ecology of the entire archipelago.
Melissa Jay Craig
December 8th, 2008 on 6:43 am
omg, brillz.
I had been up way too late when I saw Melissa’s post about your blog and wasn’t able to read it properly but now that I am back from a long weekend trip away, I am SO thankful that you have started this blog and are publishing your always brilliant brilliance.
“Ed Ruscha’s books do not rock my world” is likely one of the bravest things I’ve heard come out of the dialogue since I’ve been privy to it, but also one that I used to say privately to myself and others ALL the time. Thank you. This will be a nice blog to follow now that I’ve cut myself off from most other parts of the conversation since it was getting too oppressive. Thank you again for making your voice heard!
January 22nd, 2009 on 2:22 pm
“the very phrase artists’ books may prevent us from getting outside the artworld… those books shouldn’t acquire that almost pejorative label artists’ books – they are books.”
Clive Phillpot, quoted from Anne Edgar, “A conversation with Printed Matter”: Afterimage 12, No.6 (Jan 1985):11
We have been so involved with drawing the artists’ book away from the ordinary book, saying that it is an art form itself, that we have preferred the seperateness of distinction to claiming the artists’ books rightful place as part of the wider world of art. To paraphrase Clive Phillpot’s complaint (Phillpot didn’t like using the phrase because he thought it implied that the books were made as a”just a sideline for artists whose principal activity was… painting or sculpture”, those books shouldn’t be “artists’ books” – they are art.
In our anxiety to preserve and define the artists’ book’s distinctiveness, we have built walls around it. This prevents us from having the conversations that would allow us to stop defining it and start to ask what we can do as artists who happen to work with books in 10000 or so different ways.
Maybe it’s something that needed to happen; the paradox is that we have to have a better language to talk about our work to enter into these conversations-in-the-wider-world, which implies further clarification, further definition. Surveys afoot are tring to widen the net: either through opening the idea of cataloguing to a more flexible, almost folksonomic process, and other studies are studying artists’ publishing, which, crucially, is an activity, not an object. I think that finding new ways to talk about what we are *doing*, as well as looking at all those ‘quintessential 20th century’ objects, is going to provide us with some interesting conversations.
One such is a consideration of ‘reading’ as a way to examine what we are making. Since I gave a talk on the subject at the Scottish National Poetry library last year, Ive seen it in several places, including an exchange between Judy Barrass and Charles Brownson over on the Artists Books 3.0 site: http://tinyurl.com/ahkze9 .