Date Due

My otherwise minimalist man cave has been overrun with library books lately, most of them from interlibrary loan. I've been obsessively reading late at night for various projects, usually annoyed if I can't get through two or three books a week. Last night, for some odd reason, I noticed the stamped "date due" slips pasted in the back of the books. I thought about what an enigmatic chronology they represent. I wondered who checked the books out. I wondered about the clusters of dates, the ten-year chronological leaps of dormancy, the layers of check out slips or the complete lack of them (Has no one at Colorado State checked out Zizek's The Parallax View? Has no one in Toronto checked out Lyotard's The Inhuman? Not that I'd blame them.), the colors of the ink, the relation of the stamps to the lines, etc. I realized that the library's digital books have no such history, no traces of past users, of frequency, or of the librarians. At least half of the books I read are digital. I imagine that the percentage will increase rapidly in the next few years. The "Date Due" slips are chronicles of how information has been circulated. They remind us of other readers (and sometimes of hierarchies such as "FACULTY LOAN") and of the physical passage of a book through the hands of other people. They are stories attached to books that will no longer be told.

So late last night, I spread out all of the books on my coffee table, and when I got up this morning, I photographed them. I will probably do more as other books make their way into my home. In fact, I may do some work about other signs of the material history of library books (like the annoying underlined passages left by disrespectful readers)—that is, if I can pull myself away from reading enough to pick up my camera.

Techniques of the Observer, Washington State University Libraries

Suspensions of Perception, Texas Tech University Libraries

Window Shopping: Cinema and the Postmodern, BYU Libraries

The Virtual Window: From Alberti to Microsoft, BYU Libraries

The Parallax View, Colorado State University Libraries

Brought to Light: Photography and the Invisible, 1840–1900, BYU Libraries

New Media, 1740-1915, University of Oklahoma Libraries

The Culture of Time and Space, Washington State University Libraries 

Between Film and Screen, BYU Libraries

The Inhuman: Reflections on Time, University of Toronto Libraries

The Emergence of Cinematic Time, BYU Libraries

Bookish

Marc Olivier 2011

I love the materiality of books, and I don't think I'm alone in that. Far from disappearing from our lives, books are being used more and more for things other than reading. In fact, I've devoted a pinboard on Pinterest to that topic.

One of my favorite photographers, Abelardo Morell, has done a stunning series on books. When I took some of my old books off the shelf and photographed them on Saturday, it was very much inspired by him. I like the abstraction of the pages above (the book is a 19th century history of Paris I bought a long time ago in Seattle).

Marc Olivier, 2011

 You can see the same books in this totemic stack topped with an 18th century collection of Rousseau's rantings against theater. The shot was done with natural light. I set the stack of books on a table by the front door for side lighting and then used a light reflector to bounce back some fill, which ended up giving the halo-like glow. The final photo below shows a rip in the last page through which you see the title Lettre à d'Alembert. It was a happy accident to find that little window into the book's contents. I sent about 11 book photos to the company that distributes my work commercially, but I don't know if it will fall within their needs. Four of my dictionary page photo prints are being distributed (although they are not all of the same ones in my post). Going for commercial viability is an interesting exercise and is often not compatible with what you would send to a gallery. In my opinion, the artist who best straddles those two worlds is Michael Kenna. I find his work very inspiring but I don't do landscapes. Yet.

Marc Olivier, 2011

On my coffee table: Todd Hido's A Road Divided

Cover of A Road Divided via Amazon.

The photo doesn't do justice to this gorgeous oversized book. In the future, I'll take my own photo of the book cover, but I didn't want to keep putting off this post. I received this book as a birthday present (I'm loving the Amazon.com wish list feature!) and it is even better than I had imagined.

image from the book via flavorwire

Nazraeli Press is responsible for the the gorgeous quality of the printing. When I shop for photo books, the publisher plays a large role in my decision to buy. Obviously, the photographer is the main factor, but if the book is with Steidl, Twin Palms/Twelvetrees, or Nazraeli, then I am more likely to prioritize it. I envy the reviewers who get free copies in the mail. Somebody hook me up with that job.

In any case, this post certainly won't be a good audition for a job as a reviewer. My point here is share what's out there by looking at the books that make their way to the hallowed space of the man-cave concrete coffee table.

Todd Hido first made it onto my radar when I saw a copy of his book House Hunting at the Centre Pompidou bookstore. Would that I had bought it then when it was only $75! Now it will cost me at least $169 if I finally break down and get a copy.

A page of A Road Divided (and somebody's finger!) via Bookofdays.

Many (if not most) of the photos in this book were taken through the windshield of his car, often through rain, fog, or ice. The images convey the kind of beautiful melancholy that American culture usually avoids. The French, however, savor the feeling. All the more reason to begin the work with a quote by Baudrillard.

The painterly quality of the photos doesn't seem to come from the aesthetic tradition of Steichen, but rather from the technological tradition of the most American means of transportation. Think about how much of the world we see through the "lens" of a car window. Hido shows us landscape in a way that is entirely familiar and, to wax Freudian, "uncanny" because we immediately suppress one landscape as we pass by another and another and another at a speed that doesn't give us time for static contemplation. Pause to look at Hido's book, however, and you will start to see things that your mind has pushed aside. The price to slow down and see it is less than the cost of filling the tank of your minivan—at least for now. Hido's Outskirts, published in 2002, will now cost you $650.00. Photo books, like gas, just keep going up.

15 of my favorite books

Consider this an addition to my previous post on collecting photography books. It's my my own personal list of favorites from books I have purchased in the past 6 months. The purpose of the post is to get you thinking about the variety of books out there—at least out there online, if not in most bookstores. My next post will be a masking tutorial, but today, let me share a few books.

Let me start with some of the more accessible books (i.e. crowd pleasing—and I don't mean that in a snobby way):

1. Abelardo Morell.
I absolutely love this monograph of Morell's work, and I can't believe you can get it for around $20 (I paid $50 with no regrets) on Amazon. In my opinion, Morell succeeds in finding beauty in the everyday better than anyone out there. Some works you appreciate on an intellectual level, others you appreciate on an emotional level. This one resonates equally well on both.


2. The Life of a Photograph, Sam Abell.
Another steal (only $26.40 on Amazon). A very accessible, honest, unpretentious book, this time from a National Geographic photographer. A variety of photographs from assignments all over the world, but this is nothing like a National Geographic magazine issue. Abell allows the reader into his thought process, which I always appreciate.

3. Retrospective, Michael Kenna
I saw the exhibit and was moved by the quality of Kenna's work. I told my students about it, they went and were equally moved. This is an absolutely beautiful catalog that now seems to have limited availability, so get your hands on one if you can. You won't regret it.

4. Doisneau. Paris.
After seeing "Le baiser de l'hôtel de ville" too many times at college art poster sales, I became an anti-Doisneau snob. This book reminded me that he had a great eye and a witty perspective. Another crowd pleaser.

5. Edouard Boubat.
Probably not even on most people's radar, Boubat was a contemporary of Doisneau with a tender, poetic outlook. The book itself is just beautiful. It's weighty, well printed, elegantly designed. As I type there is only 1 left in stock at Amazon (none at Photo-Eye). I'd grab it if I were you.

6. La terre des paysans, Raymond Depardon.
Equal parts text (often hand-written) and image, this book is like a diary of the rural culture that France values so much. In French.

7. Atget: Photographe de Paris.
If you don't already know about the "Books on Books" series, but it's genius. I want them all, but this is the only one I have right now. The idea is to make out of print and inaccessible books available to a wide public by reproducing the original page-by-page (not a facsimile, but it contains the book as well as useful critical information and a bibliography). Errata Editions also has a fantastic blog.

8. Looking In: Robert Frank's The Americans.
This is one of the must-have books of 2009. This hefty tome, put together as part of a major exhibition, examines one of the seminal works of photographic history. Read all about it in the links. I'm moving on...

9. Prenez soin de vous. Sophie Calle. (also available in English)
I did a post on this back in September. This probably marks the beginning of less-accessible territory in my book list, but accessible or not, most people will relate to the theme of breaking up. In this case, Calle offers up satisfying revenge by letting 107 women interpret (often brutally) the break-up letter. And with its shiny metallic pink binding, it will look perfect next to your Barbie's Dream House (pardon me, but bloody hell, $329 for a tacky plastic doll habitat? really? Forget what I said about collecting photobooks.)


10. American Power. Mitch Epstein.
Some people won't like the politics of this book. Others might not care to see photos of power plants and refineries. Nevertheless, this book makes it into a lot of "best of 2009" lists. The "BookTease" feature at Photo-Eye will help you see if it's right for you.

11. William Eggleston, 2 1/4.
This book falls into the not-so-accessible part of my list because I can imagine that the cover alone will leave some people indifferent. My copy is a 4th edition (2008)—an impressive number of printings for a photo book. I say, go ahead and judge a book by its cover. If you like it, the inside is even better. If you don't, I'm not sure you'll like my next suggestion either.

12. Lewis Baltz.
I'm a sucker for good packaging, so this was a favorite before I even opened the book. The clean black and white slipcase for this 3-volume set is so appealingly minimalist that I hate to hide it in my bookcase. On the inside, you will get classics from the "New Topographics" movement (incidentally, a new edition of the 1975 "New Topographics" exhibition catalog will probably make its way onto 2010 "best of" lists, but I prefer the Baltz set. I don't expect everyone to appreciate photo of tract houses and industrial parks, especially when done with a kind of aesthetically neutral objectivity, but for me, the photos make my neurons fire the way they do when I read a Borges story.

13. Pure Beauty. John Baldessari.
Not strictly photography, but rather contemporary art. A gorgeous book packed with images and critical essays, published to accompany an exhibition that I unfortunately missed by only two weeks at the Tate. I first encountered Baldessari's work on the Contacts dvd where he talks about (among other things) a project inspired by a map of California. He went to the spot pinpointed by each letter along the map (C-A-L-I-F-O-R-N-I-A), made the letter out of found objects on the spot, and photographed it. That's my kind of crazy project.

14. Dictionary of Water, Roni Horn.
And speaking of crazy projects...how about making a dictionary of water on the Thames? No essay. No explanation. Just page after 11x14 inch page of water. This is the kind of conceptual piece that makes people say "How in the world does one get to publish a lavish book of nothing but water?" Be Roni Horn, that's how.

15. Paris. New York. Shanghai. Hans Eijkelboom.
Three separate books stuck to each other with velcro. In the words of the official write-up, "a witty comparative study of three major contemporary metropolises, each selected for having been the cultural capital of its time--Paris during the nineteenth century; New York, the twentieth; and Shanghai, the twenty-first." The grids of people wearing the same striped shirt, the same camo pants, and so on, are hilarious and frightening. A biting satire of globalized culture.

Blurb books, an idea for using your photos

A chocolate religieuse from Ladurée

Here's a simple idea for using your photos: make a book. Isn't that the same as making an album? you ask. Well, yes, but without having to first print your photos, then buy an album, then choose an adhesive, etc. etc.

With digital photos, it's so easy to take them and then never look at them again. They don't even fill up a shoebox, just a hard drive (which hopefully is organized and has backups lest disaster strikes). Wouldn't it be nicer if they sat on your coffee table or had a prized spot on your bookshelf? No disrespect to those bulky three-ring binders that are so popular for scrapbooking, but they are too deep to fit in my bookshelf. Imagine, instead, a collection of little 7 x 7 inch professionally printed books that feature your favorite things, people, places, or whatever else you choose.

My latest personal "book project" is a Blurb book of all my favorite foods in Paris. A square version of the photo above was for my religieuse "best of" category until I found an even better one at Carl Marletti (look at the amazing food photography on his site). People are always asking me what they should do when they visit Paris, and I always respond with food suggestions. I mean, they're going to visit the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Musée d'Orsay, Notre Dame, and other main attractions no matter I say, but they might not know about Hermé macarons or the amazing pâtes à choux at Marletti. So making a book is fun for me and a good gift idea for my friends.

But why Blurb? For me, it's about the best price/quality option. With unlimited resources, I would use Asukabook. Their printing is the best I have seen. I use them for wedding albums for most of my clients. But Asukabook is many times more expensive than blurb (and only for pros). I will use Asukabook for one-offs of special projects, but I can't afford to make a series a books for myself with them even at wholesale prices. Blurb books, on the other hand, are cheap enough to use as alternative to those plastic albums that hold 4x6 inch photos and they look a lot nicer.

I have only made two Blurb books so far, but here's what I can tell you based on my experience:

• You download their software to create your book, which is convenient because you don't need much skill to get a good end result, but inconvenient because you can't get it printed anywhere but on blurb.
• Keep it simple or you will be frustrated to no end. We did a 250 page book of poems (and drawings) that was a layout nightmare. The program was slow and buggy, and I swore I would never do another Blurb book after that. But I have learned my lesson. The end product looked better than expected, so rather than give up on Blurb, I will avoid text-heavy work and keep the layout simple.
• The page limits are extremely flexible. You can do a short book (I did one as a Valentine a couple years ago) or a really long one (440 pages long!)
• The site makes the books look higher quality than they are. Don't think this is going to compete with high-end coffee table books, but I do think they are nicer than what I have seen offered at comparable sites and stores.
  
• When your book is done you can order a copy for yourself and/or others can order it from the site. This doesn't mean you can't protect your privacy (there are options for that). In my case it just means that the next time someone asks me what to do in Paris, I can tell them to get my book.
• If you want to sell your book for profit you can do it, but I think Blurb is more of a convenient way to make a book than a good way to make money.
  
• Finally, until Nov. 24, they have a -20% and free shipping offer that looks pretty tempting.

I'm having my kids do Blurb books about their time here in Paris. They can work on them here (which, to be honest, has been hard to get them to do) and have them sent right to our house in Utah. My 10-year old, Lucas, gave me the idea after he visited Les Invalides and came back with a series of photos he called "the last thing you'd see." They were photos of spears, horses in armor, and other museum displays seen from the perspective of someone about to be stabbed, crushed, etc. Morbid, but very funny. He did the same thing at the dinosaur museum. Now, if I can just get him to assemble them...

November Monthly Special: Everything but the image

This will be an unconventional monthly special. I have decided to dedicate the month to everything BUT the actual image in a photo. Frames, albums, books, decorating ideas, unconventional use of photos, papers, printing processes, and so on. I want to tackle the problem/exciting challenge (depending on whether your a half-full or half-empty kind of person) of what to do with the photos you take.

I don't scrapbook, and since there is a multi-billion dollar industry dedicated to scrapbooking, I won't try to compete. But I will talk about other book ideas that may or may not fit within your definition of a scrapbook.

I am not a professional framer, but there is a great one down the street here in Paris, and if I can get an interview, I'll give you some tips about framing.

Because I try to do monthly specials that force me to learn new things, I hope to explore alternative printing techniques as well as a variety of display ideas.

And because holiday season is already upon us, I hope to come up with photo-related gift ideas, both homemade and bought.

And here I am doing my post on November 3rd! I had better get moving.

As for your participation (we had 6 last month, that's better than the month before), should you decided to post something and share it with a link below, I'm sure everyone would enjoy it. For example, tell about a favorite photo gift you have given or received. Share how you print and display your photos.

Sure, we all take photos, but then what?