I recently moved my book collection into a new apartment and along the way, I packed boxes and boxes full of books and made stack after stack of book boxes – artist books, photobooks, illustrated books, but also, all kinds of other books. In looking at all of the precious artist and photo books enclosed in their boxes – many in small editions or out of print, some signed by the artist, others rare or of incredibly niche interests – I was caught wondering who other than me will ever see these books and how might this “problem” speak to larger issues related to collections, large and small?
Illustration #1, boxes of books
Twenty years ago, I was an Everett Helm Visiting Fellow at the Lilly Library Rare Book Collection in Bloomington, Indiana, where I documented as many innovative bindings as I could in the time I had. I set up a digital camera and tripod, so I would be free to handle the books while making videos of how the structure in front of me behaved in time & space. I then later used them in my teaching to inspire students in their own book works.
Illustration #2, Lilly Library miniature books (clockwise from upper-left) Maps of Stones (Bonnie Stahlecker, 2001), Along the Way (binding: Pat Baldwin, printing: Jaime Gonzalez, Pequeño Press, 1990), Them Poems (designed + printed by Pat Baldwin, Pequeño Press, 1991), Crossing Over (Bonnie Stahlecker, 2001).
A key aspect of my experience at the Lilly Library was Jim Canary, who was terrifically familiar with the books in the collection, being the head conservator for decades and a friend of mine. I went in every morning and talked with Jim about bindings I was curious about or other keywords like “text and image,” “photos” etc., and though informally through conversation, Jim would pull together a cart of books and bring them down for me to go through. At the time I didn’t stop to consider the privileges I had, knowing Jim, knowing about the Everett Helm Fellowship because I had worked there as a graduate student, and even my privilege in having parents who instilled in me a love for books and covered my tuition as an undergrad so I could study at IU. How do people walk off the street and into the Lilly Library to find artist books they do not already know about?
Later, I thought about how wonderful it would be to have a digital catalog so you could search for a binding type, and it would bring up a bunch of videos to help determine what to request. The Lilly’s catalogue system was nothing like this in 2004, and I thought this could potentially revolutionize access to artist books.
Around this time, Tony White, Associate Chief Librarian at The Met, NYC, invited me to present Iraqi artist books from an exhibition called Dafatir, curated by Nada M. Shabout, in the Contemporary Artists’ Books Conference at MoMA PS1. Following the exhibit, I traveled to Amman, Jordan to meet a handful of these Iraqi book artists, including Rafa Al-Nasari (see illustration #3). But in New York City at the conference, nobody knew these Iraqi artists and people were as amazed and swept away by their books as I was. Which begs the question, who can see these books and what role do collections and institutions play in making these books available to an audience that might not otherwise know about them?
illustration #3, Dafatir, Iraqi artist books (clockwise from upper-left) Poetry Book, Rafa al-Nasiri, 2003; Trace of Blood, Ammar Dawod, 2001; Baghdadi Diary 2, Mohammed al-Shammarey, 2003; Pilot Vision of Baghdad, Kareem Rissan, 2003.
Tony didn’t think it would be possible to have the artist books in a collection documented with video because each artist would want to control their book’s presentation. I argued gently how necessary I saw it now that everything is digital and that perhaps the artists would give their permission, or they could conceivably document the work themselves. As a librarian, Tony was dismissive that anything of the kind was in the realm of possible. I was stunned – could librarians require documentation as an extension of the colophon for an acquired book? Or could there be a standardized intake process that involves a thorough documentation for a digital database?
How can we create a system in which people can find books, in libraries and collections that they know nothing about, based on materials, binding, etc.? How inclusive is it that special collections are frequently cared for by a single person or maybe a few people who have been working with them for decades? I take many of my own books to teach with and my office is overflowing as a result. However, when I’m dead and gone, the books will be sold off and my knowledge of them will not transfer. Libraries are safer because the books will remain even after the people’s knowledge of them are gone, but my dream is of a video catalog with access for all, forever…
As a photobook artist, Alexander Mouton has been publishing limited-edition, hand-bound books for over 30 years. His Unseen Press photobooks are in the collections of the MoMA NYC, the Ghetty Research Institute, the German State Library in Berlin, and the Latvian National Library, among others. He teaches visual book classes at Seattle University. IG: theUnseenPress
