It occurred to her that the grey haired man, sitting at the table diagonally to her left, was quite possibly sharing the same moment.
Making the book. Getting closer. Soon.
Soon there will be the official book dummy and I can’t wait to hold it in my hands and kiss it! Yep, it really is that exciting and I have a feeling this version might just be the one closest to my heart.
In the meantime here’s an update on the process so far:
I’m becoming adapt at InDesign. Teaching myself through trial and error and more error. I’d like to thank all those YouTube folks for their ‘How to..” posts. Don’t know how I’d do without those videos. Each time I learn a new trick I feel like jumping up and down. Literally! By now I’ve gotten a nice groove going where it no longer feels like I’m in a foreign country and can’t speak the language. Seeing the page spreads roll out of the printer is akin to magic. At times I’m reminded of the darkroom days when the photographic image began emerging in the developer tray.
The Epson 4900 is a beauty. The print quality is really superb although I will need to tweak settings here and there. Mainly the shadow areas sometimes go too dark, especially when the image is contrasty to begin with. The paper I chose to print on is Hahnemühle Photo Rag Book & Album. It’s coated on both sides and it’s 100% cotton with a dreamy smooth matte texture that gives the images a kind of a depth. The weight of the paper has a pliability I was looking for – when your turn the page it feels like a page should, it bends and curves. It unveiles and covers.
The editing and sequencing of the layout so far looks good. Of course using double-sided paper makes the printing take longer since the printed pages should be left for a least 24 hours to dry properly. For the actual edition production I might even give it 48 hours just to make sure the image weds with the page.
The book dummy is a companion – your guide – to the finished product. Each step informs the next. Just the other day I made a page/image change. At this point I just need to print the last two spreads, which will have text. In couple of days when all the pages will fimally work together, the next exciting stage of this journey will begin: making desicions on bookbinding, end-pages, cover and all the related matters. I’m set on printing an edition of 30 books and three APs.
Since all books will be hand-made each one will inevitably have its own uniquness. I find that very appealing. It makes me think of the kilim weavers inserting a secret message that is just slightly off the pattern, not easily visible but there. In a way each book has its own mystery to be discovered. That’s the way of books. And photographs.
You and me.
The world baby, the world.
The shock of the new.
Perhaps she did not consider the effect the place might have on her. The past obliterated with the exception of few things: a desk with a missing drawer, a small wooden chair with a worn leather cushion, three boxes of books and some reproduction paintings (without frames) bundled up together in saran wrap turned to the fresh white wall. Flattened. Almost non-existant. Almost missed in the emptiness of the room that should have felt familiar but instead left her undone.
(continued excerpts, image and text, from a work in progress by Monika Sosnowski)
Some things take a long time. Or to put it another way: some things take their time. I’ve been working on making a book. This book project has, for reason obvious and not, meandered over the past year and a half. And I’m glad it did. Big take away from last year was that I need to stop resisting the unknown. When things are not going according to plan there might just be a reason why. The book project stalled in late 2012. Something about it just wasn’t coming through in the original format I was inclined to pursue.
And then a little serendipity came into play and I ended up taking couple of workshops with Lauren Henkin in 2013. Lauren is a bit of a maverick. A talented photographer, whip-smart, imaginative and one of the most resourceful people I’ve met in a long time. I admire Lauren greatly. One way she expresses her work is through artist books, which she self-publishes. Lauren Henkin’s books are simply beautiful and one of a kind works of art. I’m happy to own one these amazing books, “Still Standing, Standing Still,” as it inspires and motivates me.
The “Self-Publishing for Artists” workshop I took with Lauren last year infused me with delirium. Now I not only wanted to publish a book but self-publish it. Not just self-publish it but print every page myself of a limited edition of 30 books. There’s so much to consider, think about, plan, collaborate on, figure out, edit, edit, edit… make decisions, produce. It. Is. So. Exciting!!!
And just like that I jumped into the the world of artist books. I’ve always found the world of artist books to be a wonderland I wanted to explore. And now I’m in it finding my way towards making one of my dreams a reality. There’s a lot of work! Many challenges for sure but the process so far is quite exhilarating. The hands-on aspect of it gives it a somewhat organic/intuitive flair that comes from participating in every step of the production. Each step informs the next. At this point the editing and sequence of images is done… give or take a page or two. I’m now working on the accompanying text. While that is happening, at a rather snail’s pace (but I won’t fight it), I’ve started the process of figuring out what the cover should be. I had an idea to begin with few months ago. By now the idea has morphed into something completely different (thanks to yet more serendipity).
Time for the book dummy version. There will be more posts coming up following the progress of making my first limited edition book of photographs. First, a couple of visits to Talas.
Talas is a mecca for anyone wanting to self-publish. It is a place where one can get all supplies needed for bookbinding. As is stated on their website:
Established in 1962 by Elaine and Herbert Haas, Talas became the first company in the US to serve the museum and library community with hand bookbinding and conservation supplies. Today the Salik family continues to operate Talas as a family run business, serving institutions, companies, and individuals around the world with the highest quality supplies and materials available. Centered on customer service and a small business approach, we are continually expanding our product line to meet market trends and our customers’ demands.
My two visits there were very informative and productive. All my questions were answered knowledgeably by a lovely young woman named Jessica who was super helpful. I’ve started a small collections of various sample books of different papers, materials etc, which will be useful not just for this current project for others in the future. Definitely have a much better idea of how I want to go about the design of the cover and in the next couple of weeks I’ll make couple of actual samples fit to size. Above are a few of pics from Talas and one from my studio looking at the sample booklets.
Part of the process of making a book is making lists (as it is part of making anything really). Here’s one (partial and incomplete, but a start nonetheless):
Options for cover
- what material
- paper vellum
- what color
Wonderful window into your process and materials. can’t wait to see your book!
All images above © Monika Sosnowski
2013… It was a good year for the most part. Busy. Exciting. Hopeful. There were setbacks and disappointments. And losses…
The images above aren’t necessarily the highlights of the year or even my favorites. I’ve chosen them mostly because each one somehow represents an attempt to be open to the moment. Some came about because of projects I’m working on and others because I found myself to be at a place and time with a camera. Happenstance. One is the product of a panic over the realization that there was something very wrong with the camera (the shutter mirror detached on my Canon 5G) and yet the image that now exists somehow works, in spite of it all . Another might be considered a failure in the eyes of those who consider photographs strictly for the sharpness of detail. I too wish this one particular picture was more in focus (by the way it’s not the obvious one). The photograph is not in focus because I was distracted by being self-conscious. Sometimes the images we hope for the most fail because our emotions get in the way or otherwise we can’t disengage from circumstances surrounding us. One image turned out differently than expected: better. The initial exposure is just the beginning of the photograph. How it gets processed determines much of its mood.
One image is about wonder, another a response to sadness and yet another of a point when it felt like I will never photograph again. One image I just love and can only hope to always be that lucky. One picture is about being mesmerized by the light. Surrending to it. And one is just because – it was a beautiful day and I was out with my husband and friends.
As I was contemplating the reasons for inclusion of the above images in this post I came across the following:
“The capacity of photographs to evoke rather than tell, to suggest rather than explain, makes them alluring material for the historian or anthropologist or art historian who would pluck a single picture from a large collection and use it to narrate his or her own stories. But such stories may or may have anything to do with the original narrative context of the photograph, the intent of its creator, or the ways to which it was used by it’s original audience.” ~ Martha Sandweiss
I found the above quote on the page preceding the beginning of Geoff Dyer’s book titled, “The Ongoing Moment.” It appealed to me on many levels, one being that it touches upon the mystery of how we end up with the photographs we do. What set of circumstances motivate us to go somewhere with a camera? How do we decide to click the shutter at one particular moment and not another? And how often do we end up with exactly what we thought we would capture? And on that same page another quote, which I must include here as well:
“… the only thing in which I have been actually thorough has been in being thoroughly unprepared.” ~ Alfred Stieglitz.
Awesome images. Yowsa. Print me a few.
Beautiful photos. Saw Peter in C-Town last night. Hope you guys are staying warm.
May 2014 be a year of joy and celebration. Wishing all love, health and shimmering grace.
I’ve made a small update here!
There is an option now to subscribe to this blog by entering your email address in the ‘Enter email’ field up above on the right and then clicking on the ‘Subscribe by email’ tab next to it. By subscribing you will receive notifications when new content is posted. And I have big plans for this virtual workspace!
Aside from posting about my work, I want to use this space as a kind of a forum about photography/art/writing/life/etc. So for example over the past year I’ve added to my growing collection of photography books and I’d love to showcase them here. Not as a review but more like a commentary and tribute. And speaking of books, over the next few months I will be posting on the progress of my self-publishing artist book venture. Artistically speaking, 2013 was a really good year for me in spite of some challenges.
There’s much work ahead. A lot to learn and discover. The blog is part of my practice, part of this creative process, part of what I do and I’d be over the moon having folks be part of this virtual conversation.
Thank you all for your support!
Most pictures tell a story. It may not be the whole story (it never is), but if you look at a photograph closely, hold it in your hand, feel it really – it might just reveal to you not one but many stories. Such is the way of photographs.
So what is a photograph anyway? Perhaps a fragment of intention.
A month after the return from Warsaw she comes across a photograph from a wedding ceremony. There she is, a quiet, wide-eyed seven year old sitting on a crimson colored velvet chair. Her white-stockinged toes, nestled in golden trimmed sandals, peak out from beneath the long white dress and just touch the divan. To her left the groom’s parents. Behind them the groom’s brother as one of the witnesses and to his right, sitting directly behind the girl, her mother’s witness – a poised looking woman with her sheer gloved arms lightly folded. The girl will forget most of the details of the wedding, though she will always conjure up the moment when the tiered cake collapsed. And although her mother’s witness figured in their lives with regularity it was not until recently that the girl, now a woman, realized the connection. It happened when she was looking at some photographs she took in the woman’s apartment when she visited her in Warsaw. She knew for a while that the woman was her mother’s lawyer, a confidant, a trusted friend. As a child she spent many times in the woman’s apartment, which was filled with beautiful and curious objects – many paintings on walls, books, crystal vases, souvenirs from travels to places in Africa, and there were always delicious sweets offered…
Not much has changed since those days of wonder except for the new radiators. As she’s reviewing the images she took that afternoon, wishing she could have stayed longer and taken her time with the camera, she suddenly remembers the photograph from the wedding.
Her mother’s witness. That meant something. It should mean something. How is it that such matters eventually fall to erosion of time and lose their substance? But then again this is what happens when one lives in separate worlds. Distance folds the past away into oblivion. Some hope for that.
I love the way your first paragraph so beautifully and succinctly reveals the power of a photograph that comes from visceral experience of the physical print.