Holding it Together

Following the death of my mother after a short but intense illness in August 2016, my life irrevocably changed. I became the counsellor’s phrase: “an adult orphan”.

In order to channel my grief creatively, I threw myself into making work; this was my coping response. In answer to an open call from Temple Bar Gallery & Studios for a curated section of artist books in the Dublin Art Book Fair, I had the idea that I could combine my relatively new re-interest in printmaking with my skills in bookbinding. Through a course I had been taking, I found myself giving woodblock demonstrations at the Irish Museum of Modern Art the previous February. I hadn’t done much printmaking work for years, and I had so enjoyed the woodblock printing that I knew that I was going to love a further re-exploration of print media.

Complete immersion in my art was the context needed to help me to deal with the new order of things: I no longer had a mother; an integral part of my family life was now gone. I needed to create something to counteract this immense loss, which I was reminded of in every daily act. I felt the need to have some purpose, a specific project, to prevent me from otherwise being overwhelmed by despair. I needed to create in order to feel buoyant. I had a husband and child who were also grieving and I refused to let myself sink.

Until this illness, my vibrant mother had been in exceptional good health for the entirety of her ninety-something years. She celebrated joy. My mother was active in local social clubs, she loved singing and dancing, and had close friends of all ages. The fatal diagnosis in June 2016 was a shock alternating between disbelief and despair by her ten children, yet my Mum received the news with outrageous good humour. In her last months she repeatedly sang “I’m heading for the last roundup”, the refrain to a song by her hero Gene Autry. Her great age had no bearing on the unfairness of my mother’s diagnosis; she was not ready to depart this earth and the many who loved her were not yet ready to let her go.

After a number of sketches and design plans, my work began with a series of lino prints. I would bind these prints into several book editions, a different language for each edition. I chose three languages – English, Irish and Spanish – as a starting point, with the possibility that I might create future editions in other languages. This was the first time I used my bookbinding skills in an art book context. I have been hand-binding books for over twenty five years to use as sketchbooks, notebooks, photo albums and scrapbooks, but to bind books as part of an art work is a new development for me. Literally, it was a way for me to hold things together.

Each book contains five small lino prints. My prints are straightforward: a mundane greeting to start the day (good morning / maidín mhaigh / buenos dias) and its follow up query (how are you? / conas atá tú? / ¿cómo estás?) enclosing three simple images (an egg in egg cup, two mugs, a teapot). The images are printed in black ink. Clarity. Simplicity. These are images of sustenance, companionship and comfort. This is what I need. What I hope for. These are existential books that allow me to negotiate the circumstances of overwhelming loss: coming to terms with the banality of living while facing the abyss. Since August 25th 2016 my mother is only fully alive in my memory of her.

In November 2016, five copies of each of my books were included on the curated table of the Dublin Art Book Fair. To me, this opportunity provided a quiet memorial to my mother.

I am not religious yet I am not atheist. I believe in humanity as an entity of good, despite so much evidence to the contrary. There is much suffering both on a global and a personal level. But I have encountered kindness in strangers, selflessness in friends, willingness to share and care in unexpected places. These experiences allow me to fly. I keep faith with the unknown. Although I mourn, the best way for me to honour my mother’s spirit is to celebrate it through my artmaking. This helps me to remain unwaveringly hopeful.

I am still coping with the loss of my mother. I am still creating artwork. I am currently working on another group of books and whether they will be accepted for inclusion in the Dublin Art Book Fair 2017 remains to be seen. Whether they are accepted or not doesn’t matter. Fundamentally they are serving a greater purpose: they are holding me together.

Japanese Stab Binding Instructions

Before I began binding the final books for my Good Morning books project, I did a couple of test binds. I thought the decorative bind (red binding) would work as the threading could recall the Union Jack on the English books (red binding), rays of sunshine (yellow binding) on the Spanish books, and a shamrock (green binding) on the Irish books. However, as the tests showed, the books are too small in size to facilitate anything other than a straight bind, so I went with a simple straight bind.

First I folded the endpapers, which are made of one long sheet, to wrap around the book pages.

The folio of endpapers + book sheets (in this case the Maidin Mhaigh prints) are carefully placed on the back cover.

The front cover is then placed on top to correspond with the back cover. The book sandwich is secured, taking care to protect the covers with additional pieces of cardboard. This keeps the book clean and pristine.

Measure where the holes are going to be placed to facilitate the binding. Keep in mind that the holes should be a reasonable distance from the scored margin edge where the book will open. In addition, an odd number of holes facilitates the binding well - one ends in the same place one began.

Since the book is secured, simply use an awl device for creating individual holes where the markings are. For these books I  have decided on 5 holes for the binding, placed slightly less than an inch apart. The books are small, so I could have easily only used 3 holes with wider distances, but I like the look of the 5 hole bind.

Flip the book over and ensure that the holes are as large on the back of the book as they are on the front. Be sure to have card underneath the book when creating holes to prevent damage to furniture surfaces.

It is easiest to make a binding using one piece of thread. For this size book (approximately 6 inch spine) I have used half of an embroidery skein for binding. Begin sewing through the centre hole, leaving threads hanging at the front. They can be cut evenly at the end of the binding process.

I use cotton embroidery thread and a thick, large-eyed needle (a darning needle is good - it doesn't need to be sharp). For books with card covers I do not thin out the thread, rather the way I sewed these books, the result is 24 strands for each binding. Embroidery thread is 6 stranded and I sew 2 threads at the same time, then doubling the bind.

This picture shows how I have sewn from the centre down one side and returning to the centre.

This picture shows the back of the book after returning to the centre verso when all binds are made.

Bring the needle under the 3 bind areas extending from the centre and pull before sewing back through the centre hole.

This picture shows the front cover after the needle has returned to the front of the book. Tie the thread off with the beginning strands.

The double knot will secure the bind and the threads can be cut evenly to size.

The sewing at the back of the book is even. If one prefers the end threads at the back of the book, begin sewing from the back instead of the front, but do not cut the final threads too short.

Good Morning - more work on lino prints

In the past few weeks I have been making some headway on my small book project Good Morning/How Are You? As I mentioned in a previous post, this will be a series of very limited edition (10 each) multilingual handmade books. The concept is existential with images to be reflections of comfort, companionship and renewal.

The first three books in the series will be in English, Irish and Spanish. I had to redo one of the Irish lino blocks because I had miss-spelled the Irish for Good Morning - i.e., Maidin Mhaigh is correct.

I was happy with the new test print.

With my trusty bone folder, I scored the margins for all the pages that the lino block images/texts will be printed on. This took awhile, as the Strathmore paper is quite heavy.

I also set up a more careful registration system - I had just been eyeballing it on the test prints.

Printing without a press has its own satisfactions.

Conas atá tú? means "how are you?" in Irish.  

One of the images for the books is two mugs.

A teapot is the ultimate symbol of comfort for me.

I had a good day of printing today! Here some prints are drying on the living room floor.