When I studied poetry in graduate school, I remember learning various ways a line break could function in verse. These ways were enumerated and described technically. A line break could create a pause within a phrase, establish a moment of tension, serve as punctuation, work as a lever tipping one idea into the next, produce a visual effect on the page, etc. While I understand such a breakdown cannot be exhaustive (or account for mystical occurrences in art), I appreciate the analysis for its utility. I could choose my line breaks for reasons beyond intuition or rhyme scheme!
Similarly, I am interested in considering and articulating the ways handmade paper functions in artist books—what it does and how it does it. The rest of this post examines one book held in the Rare Books Collection at the J. Willard Marriott Library for its particular employment of handmade paper—the beginning of a study I hope to continue through observation of examples in the collection.
Steph Rue’s Lectio Divina is comprised of three accordion books, letterpress printed on handmade abaca paper, treated with collage, embroidery, and sumi ink washes, and housed in a sturdy abaca wrapper. The text itself is a “sacred reading from the fourth chapter in the Gospel of Mark” (from the colophon), and concerns a tempestuous crossing in a boat and a questioning of faith. But the real focus of the work is the contemplative, meditative practice of Lectio Divina or “divine reading” itself.
Instead of mitigating or resisting its reactivity to water, Rue embraces handmade paper as a reactive surface. Throughout the book, the abaca waves and cockles in response to changes in moisture. Where collaged text elements are adhered, the substrate paper furls out from beneath them; this creates a relief effect that emphasizes the stability of the text portion on the wavy ground of paper—the prayer as the steadfast throughline of the meditation. The sumi ink too has certainly contributed to the paper’s lively surface. Commercial papermaking often seeks to suppress such effects, including sizing, additives, and finishing processes to ensure a consistent surface. These papers tend to react erratically to moisture, or to lack the strength to withstand it.
The evidence of water’s influence on the paper also points to handmade paper as a reflection of content. “A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that it was already filling.” The storm at sea is echoed in the captured motion of the water in the paper. The reader may trace her finger over the relatively flat text and the waves of the surrounding ground of sumi-washed paper and read the chop and swell of the storm, bringing her sense of touch into the contemplative process.
The apparent chaos of the waves in Lectio Divina works in part because it is ordered by a skillful hand. The careful creasing and alignment of folds in the accordion reveal an intentional maker. Rue has created the boundaries within which the paper is allowed to expand and contract to such interesting effect. The clean and precise folds also demonstrate handmade paper as durable material, which is on display elsewhere in the book too. The resilient abaca fibers support a running stitch making its way in a straight line across panels and folds of the accordion, the regular rhythm of the thread reiterating the text in a pulse: “be still. be still.”
Rue trusts in this durability for her enclosure as well—a four-flap with a button/string closure and an additional pair of flaps inside that convert the opening process into a content-relevant ritual. When opening the book, it become apparent that this simple paper wrapper will serve to protect the book as it passes through the hands of any number of contemplative reader.
In Lectio Divina, handmade paper has a distinct voice and multi-faceted purpose (conceptual, aesthetic, and practical)—none of which could be achieved so successfully with commercially produced paper. It is an excellent example of handmade paper as reactive surface, reflection of content, and durable material.
Emily Tipps is a Librarian and the Program Manager for the Book Arts Program and the lead binder for the Red Butte Press at the University of Utah’s J. Willard Marriott Library. Emily is also the proprietor of High5 Press. Her work is exhibited and held in collections nationally.
