Showing posts with label artist book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label artist book. Show all posts

Thursday, 12 September 2019

An interview with Elisabeth Tonnard

Artist Elisabeth Tonnard interviewed by art critic Agnieszka Gratza.

Agnieszka Gratza: Could you tell me about your background and how you came to work with the artist book format?

Elisabeth Tonnard: My background is mostly literary; I studied literary theory and comparative literature for my first degree in the Netherlands. A study of the classics of Western literature: not very experimental at all. There was no component in it on artist books or conceptual literature. After that, I started writing myself but only with great difficulty. You study the classics so much that at first you think, ‘There's so much out there already, what can I contribute?’ As time went on, spontaneously I began making some works that had a more visual component but they were literary and had to do with language. My first book is the reworking of a poem by T.S. Eliot, ‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’. It's a series of poems I developed out of one strophe by applying Tipp-Ex, the correction fluid, to the existing text and seeing which meanings would come out when you covered up some parts. I could turn the word ‘what’ into ‘hat’ by making the letter w white, for example.

  Let us go then, you and I. Acquoy, 2003. Image courtesy Elisabeth Tonnard.

That work was made very quickly; I then spent two years trying to get it published in Holland. It did not fit any literary publishing house, nor any art publishing house. At the time I did not have much knowledge of artist books at all. I knew artists but not artists working with books. I come from a family of artists yet I've always kept away from art, focusing on literature instead. After commenting on my work, an uncle who was an artist suggested that I apply for a grant to publish this book myself. After two years of trying to publish it with a publisher, I got a grant and I was able to publish it myself. I worked with a printer and a binder but I designed it, determined the content and chose the paper.
  Let us go then, you and I. Acquoy, 2003. Image courtesy Elisabeth Tonnard.

AG: Thinking about your wider publishing practice, the books that you make are largely, if not exclusively, self-published in Leerden, your home town. How do you go about publishing them?

ET: They are published wherever I am living. I published some in Berlin and some in Rochester, New York when I lived there. It works differently from book to book. I am currently working on a book I printed myself and that I'm also binding myself, regrettably, I have to say, because it's really too much work. I have a type of inkjet printer that I like to work with. I never used any kind of letterpress or traditional printing press techniques. I mostly have books printed at printing houses and most of the time it's digital printing.

AG: Your catalogue of books lists over 40 items that appeared between 2003 and 2018. Some books are published in limited editions, others as open editions. What dictates whether they are one or the other?

ET: It's sometimes a matter of what I felt like at the time, I have to confess. It's also down to practical issues. I once made an edition where I thought I would make 30 books and I got stranded at 29. For technical reasons I wasn't able to make any more, so then it became an edition of 29. On another occasion, I bought a stack of paper at the paper factory and I could only make so many books out of that one stack. I like the idea of an open edition in the sense that it is then not limited though in a practical sense it may be. You can do it when you do a digital print run. You could make a hundred copies, for instance, and if they're sold out you order more. But the paper you used in the first instance or the printer may have changed, so it ends up being different to the original run. Over the years I've found that it's actually really inconvenient to keep a book available. You just want to go on to the next project when it's sold out and not have to think ‘How did we do that, again?’

AG: Although technically you're not a publishing house, it's very much a business that you manage yourself. You have a webshop and you process orders. Nine of your titles are listed as sold out. The books range in price from 0 euros for The Invisible Book which sold out instantly to 985 euros for the special edition of Song of Myself, which stands out because the other ones are much more reasonably priced. What is special about it?

ET: The special edition of that project I printed myself. It's also quite large, A3-sized, and it comes in a portfolio. It's a very limited edition of seven copies only. That all adds up to a higher price. It's also the last copy that's left now. The price was actually raised. The book version was printed by a printer as a cheap small paperback.

Song of Myself. Leerdam, 2015. Image courtesy Elisabeth Tonnard.

AG: Song of Myself was presented at Friends with Books in 2015. It was at once installed, as part of the group exhibition curated by Savannah Gorton, I have always imagined that paradise will be a kind of library, and presented on a book stand alongside other books you've published. For me, one of the appealing features of a number of your books is that they come in bound versions that can also be deployed as installations. Could you explain how that worked at Friends with Books?

ET: It was a special edition of the A3 sheets that was shown there. I should first say a little bit about the content of the book. It's called Song of Myself: American Renaissance and it's based on Facebook status updates. The title is a quote from a poem by Walt Whitman. I first found one by Edgar Allan Poe that read ‘Edgar Allan Poe likes his own link’. So I started collecting those updates by Edgar Allan Poe but then I also thought of other authors from the time when he lived, the American Renaissance: Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, Henry David Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Herman Melville, Nathaniel Hawthorne. I found it extraordinary to think of all those authors doing these very shallow things. Just imagine Emily Dickinson posting a photo of herself. But then what would they actually do if they lived now? The installation at Friends with Books, which took place at the Hamburger Bahnhof that year, was spread over a single wall. I really liked the fact that I could install those sheets of the special edition as a grid on the wall because where people post their updates on Facebook is also called ‘the wall’. So it made sense to show it like that.

Above and Below: Song of Myself (special edition). Leerdam, 2015. 
Installation view in the exhibition I have always imagined that paradise will be a kind of library,
Friends with Books: Art Book Fair Berlin at Hamburger Bahnhof, Berlin, 2015. 
Images courtesy of Elisabeth Tonnard.   

AG: Your books strike me as both formally and materially inventive in so far as you experiment with format, typography, layout and even paper brand which all have a meaning you attempt to convey.

ET: I take this into consideration with every book. At the Visual Studies Workshop in Rochester, New York, which is where I began to learn about artist books, I worked with an archive – the Joseph Selle collection of photographs – housed in the same building. I made a book out of that collection called Two of Us. It combined digitized materials from the archive in which I saw a pattern of doubles walking next to or behind each other in the street with a poem by Baudelaire about seeing the same old man several times over in the street and how uncanny that was. The double is a literary motif, that of the doppelgänger. Going back to the materiality of the book, Two of Us was designed as a novel, in other words not published or printed on shiny coated paper that you see in an ordinary photo book, which would have been great for showing the images. But I wanted the whole book to have a literary feel, to look like a novel on the outside, with the kind of paper that evoked a novel. It also has text on the same pages as the photographs.

Two of Us. Rochester, NY, 2007. Image courtesy Elisabeth Tonnard.

AG: A collection of your poetry in Dutch recently came out published by het balanseer in Ghent, not self-published in other words. Is that the direction you're heading in or are you still excited by self-publishing?

ET: I will definitely keep self-publishing but I see the poetry work that was published by that publisher as a separate thing. Within the field of literature, at least in the Netherlands, it's definitely not regarded very highly to self-publish. That means nobody wanted to publish your poetry. It's best as a writer to publish through the regular channels and in literary magazines. But for artist books that's different; I find that the best work is self-published. Of course it's really developed now, much more than when I first started. There are a lot of artist book fairs now where you can see work. That wasn't so much the case when I started self-publishing.

AG: Joachim Schmid's name crops up in some of your book projects, like The Invisible Book, The Lovers and Joachim Schmid Works, but have you ever worked together or collaborated on a project?

ET: We haven't been able to do that yet. We've responded to each others' works. For instance, he made E-Book, based on a letter he wrote to me. He left only the e letter and everything else he made white, referencing my procedure with Tipp-Ex. He then photographed es in the cities we visited together. And then I published Joachim Schmid Works, showing photographs of him working on that E-Book. He's known for never taking any photographs, so it was a little joke on my part to show that he's constantly taking photographs. But we haven't done an actual project together.

Joachim Schmid Works. Leerdam, 2016. Image by Elisabeth Tonnard.

Joachim Schmid Works. Leerdam, 2016. Image by Elisabeth Tonnard.

AG: Do you ever work collaboratively with people on your books?

ET: I don't think so actually, other than with poets who are already dead. (Laughs.)

AG: Why is that? A book project, at least in my experience of editing an artist book, can be a deeply collaborative experience, for better or for worse. Because of the nature of that particular project, I ended up working closely with all the contributors, the graphic designer, the printer, the binder. And suddenly the project felt out of my control.

ET: That's exactly what I try to avoid though I do collaborate with binders and printers. But I don't have them say how it should be done. I ask for their advice and sometimes they have good ideas but I try to keep it within my vision.

AG: Would you say that's one of the advantages of the artist book format? That you can go with your vision?

ET: Yes, absolutely. The advantages include speed, if you don't have to ask everybody what they think. I made some of my books really quickly, in one night, and sent it off to a printer. You can go as slow or as fast as you want, really. But the end result is a coherent piece and not some sort of Frankenstein's monster book. 

Indirections #1-8. Leerdam, 2018. Image courtesy of Elisabeth Tonnard.
Indirections #1, inside view. Leerdam, 2018. Image by Elisabeth Tonnard.

 

Wednesday, 4 October 2017

An Interview with Beatrix Pang of Small Tune Press

Beatrix Pang, founder of Small Tune Press, interviewed by Ingrid Chu, art critic and curator.


Susanne Burner, Vanishing Point: How To Disappear in China Without A Trace | 消失點:如何在中國無跡可尋 

(Revolver, Berlin/Small Tune Press, Hong Kong, 2011)

IC: Why did you start Small Tune Press?

BP: Small Tune Press began with my general interest in all things experimental and not mainstream. I enjoyed reading and collecting comics, magazines, zines, art books, flyers, posters, listening to weird stories, and watching cult movies. I also learned a lot about producing images when I was studying photography, but lacked the knowledge about their presentation and dissemination. So, I got to know many international artists' works through reading their artists' books in the school library, and then wondered if any Hong Kong artists ever published books which could be read by other readers overseas? After that, I co-published the debut issue of a photo magazine called KLACK, and then one year later I started Small Tune Press as a response to create and develop a space for alternative artist publications. Also, so I could give myself the time to gain more knowledge about printing, production, and distribution.

Beatrix Pang's art publication collection; KLACK magazine shown in cabinet 

IC: Why is it important for the imprint to be Hong Kong based?

BP: There are various choices of paper and printing technique support in Hong Kong that makes it a good place in terms of resources and for experimentation. The area where my studio is located in the southern side of Hong Kong Island is called Wong Chuk Hang. It also used to be a printing district from the 1970s to the 1990s in Hong Kong, so where many printing factories were located. After all these years a number of printing houses still remain and run their businesses, as well as paper suppliers. This is a great asset for Small Tune Press to be able to stay in the neighbourhood and have them provide support for artists’ book production.

Small Tune Press studio view

Small Tune Press studio view

IC: I’ve seen Small Tune Press publications in many museums and art bookshops, but you also participate in international art books fairs such as Friends with Books this year. As platforms to share artist books have begun to appear more frequently in Hong Kong and elsewhere, how do you see this developing in terms of opportunities for artists and STP?

BP: It is exciting to see the blossoming of art book fairs everywhere! These definitely provide platforms for many creatives to present and expose their printed works in a rather friendly and autonomous environment. These platforms also become a space to exchange and appreciate books for both authors and readers alike, and in a less conventional environment than say a regular library or a bookstore. 

Collection of Book Fair materials


IC: Online platforms are becoming increasingly popular, but perhaps here more than elsewhere they run the risk of censorship that remains an ongoing concern. What relationship if any do you have to digital publishing? How does this affect your work and your your distribution methods if at all?

BP: Although Small Tune Press doesn't produce electronic publications, the online social media channels have become a powerful tool to promote events and information about the print publications. This allows for different ways to describe and promote the book that in turn gets people to think more imaginatively about the physical book even in the virtual space, and finally triggering the desire to further explore its contents, learn more about its maker, and then ideally purchase the book!

IC: What do you see as the future for independent publishing in Asia?

BP: Independent voices remain restricted and obstructed in many places in Asia under different cultural, social, and political circumstances. However, the people making books still find different ways to experiment, express, and deliver their voices broadly. Resources are still a critical issue to many developing Asian countries as well, especially in terms of printing technology and available materials, not to mention the chances to exhibit and distribute to overseas platforms, such art book fairs like Friends with Books. But the diversity of cultures and languages in Asia means that there are still definitely many possibilities for exchange within and beyond the region that can, and are being developed.

Small Tune Press (STP) is an independent art book and zine publisher founded in 2011 by Beatrix Pang, a visual artist and cultural researcher based in Hong Kong. Committed to providing opportunities for artists and creatives from various backgrounds and disciplines, it produces experimental art books and zines in different subjects and mediums for distribution in small editions. STP has also been featured in a number of international art books fairs, exhibitions, and programmes exploring the possibilities for publishing in generating new knowledge around the recent art of Asia. 

All images courtesy of Small Tune Press.
Ingrid Chu
September 22, 2017

Monday, 1 December 2014

Fünf Fragen an Céline Duval


Als Du anfingst mit Fotografien und Postkarten zu arbeiten, wusstest Du da schon, dass Du daraus eine verlegerische Tätigkeit entwickeln würdest, dass das Deine künstlerische Praxis werden würde?

Ich habe 1997 angefangen, Bilder zu sammeln, Bilder von Flohmärkten und aus Zeitschriften. Dieses Konvolut wurde dann zum Ausgangsmaterial meiner Bücher. So eine Sammlung anzulegen, war eine Entscheidung, die ich schon während des Studiums an der Kunsthochschule in Nantes getroffen habe, bei dem ich mit verschiedenen Umgangsweisen mit der Fotografie experimentierte. Ich habe dann sehr bald gedacht, dass das Verlegen das geeignete Mittel sein würde, verschiedene Ikonografien zu zeigen. Damals wusste ich nicht so recht, wie ich das anstellen sollte und ich brauchte Zeit, um mit Hilfe der Bilder die Welt zu entdecken. Ich habe dann gemerkt, dass die Bilder, die von den Menschen gemacht werden, ihren Inhalt schon mitbringen. Es reicht, sie anzusehen und dann entsprechend zu kombinieren, der Schnitt ist das Entscheidende, wie im Kino.


Coeur, point et ligne sur plan, 2013


Kanntest Du zu diesem Zeitpunkt den Bilderatlas „Mnemosyne“ von Aby Warburg?

Ich hatte damals noch nie von Aby Warburg gehört. 2001 dann hat mich dann Pierre Leguillon auf Warburgs Projekt hingewiesen, dass in Frankreich Dank der Publikation von Philippe-Alain Michaud „Aby Warburg et l’image en mouvement“ zugänglich wurde. Er sagte, dass ich eine Erbin seiner Vorgehensweise wäre, aber damals habe ich die Tragweite seines Projektes noch nicht begriffen, vor allem was das für die Kunstgeschichte bedeutete. Ich fühlte mich der Arbeit von Hans-Peter Feldmann näher, mit dem ich damals auch zusammengearbeitet habe.


Du bist eine Bilderretterin, Du bietest Bildern  familiären Anschluss, stellst sie in formale Zusammenhänge, auch über „Generationen“ hinweg. Du entwickelst oft unerwartbare Typologien, mal sind die Bezüge sehr direkt, manchmal eher assoziativ. Deine Haltung zu den Bildern wirkt weniger enthüllend als empathisch. Wenn Du Stereotypen aufzeigst – selten auch Abgründe -, dann passiert das nicht in einer denunzierenden Weise, sondern eher in einer Geste der Zuneigung. Meistens verbreiten Deine Bilder gute Laune. Ist der Titel einer Deiner Publikationen „Reculer pour mieux aimer“(„Distanz gewinnen, um besser lieben zu können“) übertragbar auf Deine Arbeitsweise?

Das ist alles sehr subjektiv und der Blickwinkel verändert sich ständig. Mein Vorgehen könnte insgesamt eher mit „Distanz gewinnen um besser zu verstehen“ beschrieben werden. Ich glaube es ist genau andersherum als Du es sagst: Je mehr Abstand ich gewinne, desto deutlicher lege ich die Mechanismen der Schaulust frei, die uns beherrschen und desto mehr beginne ich die Bilder zu verachten. Ich glaube, dass diese Ambivalenz in der Videoserie "Les Allumeuses, 1998-2011" deutlich wird, in der die gedruckten Bilder aus Zeitschriften in ihrer Materialität verschwinden und nur der Schnitt der Bilder in ihrer Abfolge sichtbar bleibt, weil sie mit der Videokamera gefilmt wurden. Ich versuche in meiner Arbeit vor allem zu verstehen, warum es uns dazu drängt, so viele Bilder zu produzieren.

La Stratigraphie des images, 2014


Du hast angefangen, über Deine Publikationen hinaus, Ausstellungen zu machen und bedienst Dich dabei unterschiedlicher Präsentationsformen. Wirst Du weiterhin auf Papier arbeiten, Hefte und Bildsammlungen herausgeben?

Ja, ich habe übrigens seit September dieses Jahres drei neue Publikationen abgeschlossen und drei neue sind 2013 entstanden. Ich habe nur keine Zeit für Kommunikation und Vertrieb. Daher bin ich froh, dass ich in diesem Jahr bei „Friends with books“ in Berlin dabei sein kann. Das Papier bleibt mein bevorzugtes Medium, das Buch ist ein intimer Raum, mit dem die Hand einen unmittelbaren Kontakt herstellt. Es ist wichtig, dass wir nicht den direkten Kontakt zu unserem Körper verlieren.


Eine letzte Frage: Machen Dich die Bilder, die bisher nicht zu Dir gefunden haben  und die Tatsache, dass die Anzahl der Bilder, die produziert und verbreitet werden rasant zunimmt nervös?

Dieser morbide Drang, mit dem Smartphone alles festzuhalten ohne darüber nachzudenken - diese Welt der Bilder ist schwindelerregend und widert mich an. Ich kann selbst gar nicht mehr fotografieren. Ich habe, glaube ich, überhaupt keine Freude mehr an Bildern. Wir verlieren uns in dieser nicht enden wollenden Bilderflut, die nur das immer Gleiche mit sich bringt.





November 27, 2014
Isabel Podeschwa