Lisa's History: How I Met and Made Artists' Books

Before my encounter with the world of Artists' Books sometime in my college years (1982-1986), I was just a graphic designer/poet with a passion for images and words and sometimes the nice ways they went together. Before long, I found myself collecting poetry books, not so much for the poetry, but because the "designer" had done something different with the words on the page. It became something of a thrill for me to hunt these books down, knowing that it was something these people were doing that was making the page come alive, making the words actually invite the reader into the page. I made up my mind never to settle for mere words on a page again.

Recognizing that the words had to stand on their own and not leave the reader feeling cheated once the invitation to come in had been accepted, I set about to create what I had been craving. Thus was my first book born. I started humbly, putting only a few words on a page, so that I could give them a chance to find a way to speak. Then I threw in images, usually photocopies of photos because they allowed me to work faster, and stood back to see what happened. To the experienced book artist, what had happened was natural, almost scientific, the direct result of the melting pot of words and images. To me it was a revelation.

Naturally, I soon discovered that there were worlds of people out there doing just this: combining those two elements of word and image to create a third totally unique element: the book. My days as a traditional graphic designer were numbered.

My explorations of "The Book" helped me explore myself. Many of my images were personal and had something that worked itself out in the process of partnering with words. Some images could not be set aside until some resolution had been made. Sometimes the same image would appear for years. And then suddenly it would be done. I didn't need to explore it any more. It had said what it needed to say. My words, too, were going new places. If I started gently with few words, my words were growing in number and impact. Words became a voice as well as a visual element. Very often, the best books I made were ones where the issues were not already resolved and I allowed the images and words to struggle it out together. They would finally reach a place of clarity, often much to my surprise. It was a very satisfying process.

Then there was the question of the structure of the book. Very early in my explorations, I got bored with a standard book format. I wanted the book itself to invite the reader in and give them a glimpse of what might be found there. I recognized that the structure could help the viewer become an active participant, not just a passive reader. When the books asked for a certain degree of interaction, the reader helped the book become a book, supplying the moments of discovery and change that made every reading different. I also realized that different structural formats could help me break away from the rigidity of the rectangular page and the rigidity of my pre-conceived notions about the subject matter. When I forced myself to take familiar images and put them on an unfamiliar page size or shape, or even binding them differently, I was suddenly free of the trappings that the image inherently held. I could discover something new about it. This became a way for me to deal with personal images that already had a life of their own.

As my words grew and my image files grew, and the digital revolution hit, I discovered that I no longer needed a printing press or a photocopy machine to create. But I still loved the hands-on creating, even the sound of ink on the roller of a printing press. Many of the books were still made with hand-assembly techniques, including hand binding and construction. Many photographic processes were also used, some traditional and some not: cyanotype, Vandyke, Gum Printing, proof press and AB-Dick offset. Photocopying, collage, and other assembly tactics were all part of my arsenal. I pursued (and achieved) a Masters Degree in Fine Arts at the Visual Studies Workshop in Rochester, NY. I spent many hours pouring through their archive and often sounds of "Wow!" could be heard from the stacks where I was sitting. The possibilities of visual design were as open to me as the sky.

I discovered that my happiest moments were still sitting one on one with someone as they explored one of my books, which I had just handed them. Some were fearful. Some were intrigued. Most had their world of books turned upside down. What a delight to see them talk to my books as the books talked to them. That made me keep making them.

When I almost went blind in 1999 (you can read my story to hear how that adventure had a happy ending) I found it very important to make a book. I had photographs of a tree that was important to me, the Red Maple Tree in the front yard of my parents' home. The story was born, and the images were more than just pretty leaves and bark. It was about being blind and lost and finding hope. It was about life. The book was ultimately about me. You can see the book here and read the text in the story section. But imagine yourself reading it out of a tiny hand held page that required you to get close and intimate. And then remember that each book was hand bound while I was still partially blind. A friend had to check the pages out of the printer to make sure there were no ink spots. Much of the book was assembled out of a need to make something that someone could see, could read, and could enjoy every inch of. Fifty copies were assembled and mailed to friends that Christmas. It was my message that I was coming alive again.

Today I make Christmas cards instead of books. But when I'm off at a CFO camp, in our creative time where we are often given one piece of paper to write on or draw on, I find myself making something that resembles a book. It folds. It turns. It hides, then reveals. It talks to me. It does something new. When I share it, people are always drawn in and somehow helped to think outside the box. And something in me is satisfied.

I hope you enjoy the books I have chosen to show in this virtual gallery. Remember that the best way to enjoy them is to enter into a dialogue with them. Some of my books are in the Archive collection at the Rochester Institute of Technology Library, as well as the Archive at the Visual Studies Workshop. Some are available for purchase from me, while others are one-of-a-kind assemblies and are presented her for your enjoyment on the virtual page.

I hope you enjoy your dialogue and find your book-world expanded.