On art and books and reading books on art (the thoughts of Hol publisher Greg Albers)

Friday
Dec092011

Exclusive review of the newest e-reader: the E.Book

Late yesterday evening, we received the first, and perhaps only production model of the new E.Book e-reader here at the Hol offices, and now have this exclusive review to share with you. No word yet on when it will go into production for the U.S. market. Given some of its stunning features, however, it's safe to say that most readers will be anxious to see it more widely available soon:

  • Extremely lightweight
  • Small enough to fit in a pocket but with more generous dimensions than the average smartphone means comfortable, cramp-free handling
  • Reinforced edges with non-slip grip
  • High resolution, non-glare, very paper-like display
  • Simple, intuitive set of controls (particularly good because some of them seem to be labeled in the manufacturer's native language): No/Oof (On/Off); Next/Dlete/Cancl; Up/Down
  • Wireless

Front view of the new E.Book e-reader

Perhaps best of all, the five-and-a-half-year-old company that makes the E.Book is happy to offer customers a personalized message on the back of the device. And even if it's meant to say Merry Christmas instead of "Hape brthday!" (which isn't until August) it's still the perfect gift. Thanks Porter! Love, Dad.

Back of the new E.Book e-reader, with custom engraving 

Monday
Dec052011

Tome or tomb?

No other recent publication better epitomizes everything Hol is not trying to do with art books than Phaidon's latest tome, The Art Museum. Two-and-a-half inches thick and weighing in at a reported seventeen-and-a-half pounds, this encyclopedic survey of art is 992 pages long, has more than 3000 images, took ten years for its editors to put together, and retails for $200. I've had a draft of a blog post about the book sitting in the queue for more than two months now, but have found the whole thing too maddening and sad to finish up. 

My issue with the book is spelled out in their own description of the thing as "unrestricted by the constraints of physical space". Think about that for a moment. Think about describing a printed book as unconstrained by physical space.... Of course, they meant unrestricted by the physical space and geographic location of museum buildings and collections (in the Museum Without Walls sense), but it's baffling that they didn't take this idea a step further, to its next logical progression, and bring their "boundless" book online, where it actually could be boundless. To put the extreme amounts of time, effort and money into a project like this that they did, and to come out the other end with a "suitcase full of rocks" is just sad.

That "suitcase full of rocks" quote? Oh, that's from Holland Cotter's review of the book in the New York Times. Of course when the phrase appears in the opening paragraph of Cotter's review, it directly references only the "size and weight" of the book, but by the end of the article it's clear that the statement sums up Cotter's overall opinion of the thing's content and presentation. And for that, I must say, I was grateful. Grateful that I wasn't the only one struggling with the problematic conception and execution of this book. Grateful that even the old guard of the art world wasn't willing to sidle up to the old guard of the art book publishing world and take it lying down. Grateful that he reviewed the book so I didn't have to. I highly recommend you go read it. Not as a put-down of the book itself, but as a call to action for how future projects like this might, and should, go. Here's the insightful and meaty conclusion:

"In a sense, The Art Museum may be most valuable precisely for helping to push the analog-versus-digital-book debate along, and even more for prompting ideas about the need to think about old museums in new ways—ways that it doesn’t itself explore."

Amen.

Thursday
Nov102011

Easy participation + content rich guides = MFAH book club

There's been a lot of activity on our museum book club pages. Along with 10 guides we've commissioned, created or otherwise collected to share with you (with more on the way), we have a listing of more than 30 museum book clubs around the county, and nearly 100 books on art that those clubs have read and discussed. Occasionally, we also like to feature great clubs here on the blog and I'm excited to share the terrific recent work of the Museum of Fine Arts Houston book club.

The MFAH started their club two years ago and have read a dozen books so far. This fall however, public programs coordinator Jay Heuman has dramatically upped the museum's commitment to the club, and is pushing the bounds on what a club can be. Like for most other museum book clubs, the MFAH's book selections—vetted by Heuman and his colleague, Sara Wheeler, public programs assistant—are connected to special exhibitions and the permanent collection. For this fall, the museum has "Gifts of the Sultan: The Arts of Giving at the Islamic Courts" and "Tutankhamun: The Golden King and the Great Pharaohs" on view, and so has selected My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk and Cleopatra: A Life by Stacy Schiff, for their book club. MFAH's innovation, however, lay in their book club tours and their customized reading/looking guides.

Rather than having a limited sign-up of a couple small groups of people to come in, sit down and discuss the books together in the museum—which is typical to many museum clubs, and can be quite effective with smaller communities in particular—the MFAH is suggesting you simply read the book on your own or with your existing book group and then come into the museum for a special, free book club tour of the galleries. The tours last one or two hours and are geared to connecting themes in the books directly with objects in the galleries. As Heuman relates:

"Each of our book club docents, extremely knowledgeable about the MFAH’s permanent collections and learning more on a daily basis, attend the MFAH Book Club docent education sessions and then develop their own tour in their own style. The common characteristics though include reading excerpts from the books while sitting before works of art, and active discussion/participation. We encourage the docents not to 'talk at' those who tour, but engage them in discussion, sharing their impressions of the books (style, themes, characters, plot, etc.), but also related personal experiences."

The museum has seventeen drop-in book club tours scheduled between October 20 and January 28, both on weekdays and weekends, and in the morning, afternoon and evenings to accommodate a wide variety of schedules. Or, if readers have their own book group of six or more people, they can schedule a private book club tour of their own—also for free. This is phenomenal, and makes participating about as easy as can be. Anyone who chooses to read either of the two books at any time during the next few months can come into the museum almost anytime, with little notice and no additional cost, to discuss that book and its relationship to the art with trained docents and other readers!

Second, Heuman has created custom reading/discussion guide for each book, that can be downloaded from the museum's website. Of course, reading guides are nothing new, but the MFAH's guides go far beyond the usual ten-question format. Between five and six pages long each, MFAH's new guides pull out larger themes from each book, suggest discussion questions, and, most critically, include information, images and additional questions about artworks in the museum (and elsewhere) that connect directly to the reading. Each guide is a rich, standalone resource that deepens readers' connections to the books and to the museum, even if they never discuss the books in a book club, or go on one of the museum's tours. Though the way MFAH has set up the tours, they're an opportunity I doubt many will miss!

Friday
Oct282011

Beautiful Art (Books)



"Art books are expensive (not accessible), heavy (not mobile), and no one reads them (not social). Our reverence for them is misplaced. Today, a book shouldn’t be beautiful for the way it’s packaged and sold, it should be beautiful for what it says and for the encounters in creates.  Encounters not only with other texts and ideas, but also with people, places and—for the visual art field especially—objects in the real world. I hate art books, but I love art."

This is description of the presentation I'm giving today at the Books in Browsers conference hosted by the Internet Archive, the theme of which this year is "beautiful books". You can download the e-book, or watch the video it live streaming at http://www.toccon.com/live. The e-book is in EPUB format which works on Apple, Nook, Sony, and Kobo readers (sorry, not Kindle) as well as online with the free Ibis Reader or on your desktop with Adobe Digital Editions, also free.

And finally, the funny image at the bottom is a QR code like the one I mention in the presentation. By scanning it with a QR reader on your smartphone, or by simply entering the short URL into your mobile web browser, you'll get the e-book on the presentation. I can't say at this point that it works on every device, QR reading app and mobile browser, but I know at least that on an iPhone you can use this to upload the book directly to iBooks, Stanza or Kobo and start reading instantly. Cool!

Wednesday
Sep212011

From the gazebo

Thomas Kinkade, "The Painter of Light" ™, Sweetheart GazeboIn the run-up to tomorrow's e-book release of Beauty is Convulsive by Carole Maso, I've been doing an increasing amount of research into and reading of art-related, or ekphrastic, poetry. In the long-term, we're on the look-out for more such poetry books to publish, and more ways to promote the books already out there. The meeting place of visual art and poetry is a growing and potentially intellectually (not financially) lucrative area of practice.

That said, the poetry book I'd like to give quick mention to now, Museum of Parallel Art, by Robert Wynne, stands out first for its whimsy. In it, Wynne uses each poem to consider a famous work of art as if it had been done be a radically different artist than the original: "Anne Geddes' Guernica", "Norman Rockwell's Saturn Devouring One Of His Children", "Piet Mondrian's Starry Night", etc... Even if it's a one-note idea, it's also in many ways a charming collection. What has stuck with me most since first reading it, however, are the opening lines to the poem "Thomas Kinkade's The Crucifixion", both horrifying and hilarious.

It's no surprise
the light shrouding

Jesus is beautiful
even as he dies,

but who knew
this took place

in a gazebo? 

What artist/artwork mash-ups would you propose?  The best, most meaningful of such pairings would transcend the basic novelty of "unlikely couples" and ideally offer new ways of seeing and thinking about each individually. It's definitely not as easy as it sounds at first. I'd like to think up a new artist for The Cremaster Cycle, but who? Instead, I think the best I've come up with so far is "Fred Sandback's Torqued Ellipse".

Share your ideas here, or better yet, maybe there's a Twitter meme to be started: #parallelart? #artmashup?

Thursday
Sep152011

Reading the L.A. Art World

This fall, in an initiative called Pacific Standard Time, dozens of cultural institutions across Los Angeles are putting on exhibitions and events exploring, explaining and celebrating the Los Angeles art world from 1945 to 1980. This unusual collaboration boasts an amazing roster of shows covering an equally impressive array of artists, art movements and spaces, which is made all the more amazing by the fact that every one of them came from only a thirty-five year timespan and a single geographic location.

For our own unofficial part, we're very pleased to announce the publication of new e-book editions of two terrific books on the Los Angeles art world and its denizens: Jack Goldstein and the CalArts Mafia, and The Beat and the Buzz: Inside the L.A. Art World. Both are by Richard Hertz (former professor at CalArts and graduate director at Art Center College of Design) and both also include contributions from dozens of L.A. insiders.



Not to play favorites, but I have to give a special personal recommendation to Jack Goldstein and the CalArts Mafia. This is a book that when I first read it, really engaged me with artists and ideas that I hadn't known anything about before, and made me want to read more and to see more. What more than that can you ask from a book on art? It also makes not-infrequent appearances on recommendation lists and in interesting articles, and has really been a sort of underground hit since its original paperback release in 2003. I'm thrilled to be able to bring out this new e-book edition and I hope you'll check it out.

As for The Beat and the Buzz, I really need say only one thing: John Baldessari calls it "a page turner". Awesome. Add to cart.

THE START OF AN L.A. ART BIBLIOGRAPHY

Of course, the reading list on Los Angeles art only starts with our two books. There are shelves worth of other great books to read. Here's our recommend list of titles to get you started (alphabetical by author):

The Beat and the Buzz: Inside the L.A. Art World, Richard Hertz

Jack Goldstein and the CalArts Mafia, Richard Hertz

Rebels in Paradise: The Los Angeles Art Scene and the 1960s, Hunter Drohojowska-Philp

Last Chance for Eden: Selected Art Criticism by Christopher Knight 1979–1994, Christopher Knight

Video Green: Los Angeles Art and the Triumph of Nothingness, Chris Kraus

Sunshine Muse: Art on the West Coast, 1945–1970, Peter Plagens

Ed Ruscha's Los Angeles, Alexandra Schwartz

Mr. Wilson's Cabinet Of Wonder: Pronged Ants, Horned Humans, Mice on Toast, and Other Marvels of Jurassic Technology, Lawrence Weschler

Seeing Is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees: Expanded Edition, Over Thirty Years of Conversations with Robert Irwin, and True to Life: Twenty-Five Years of Conversations with David Hockney, Lawrence Weschler

Pop L.A.: Art and the City in the 1960s, Cécile Whiting

Friday
Jul292011

Donald Judd's Collected Writings: Mapping the Bibliography

Many people first come to the work of artist Donald Judd via the small west-Texas town of Marfa.

With the idea of finding a permanent place to install his and his contemporaries' artwork, Judd first came to Marfa for an extended stay in 1972. Over the next two decades, until his death in 1994, Judd (and with him, the Dia Art Foundation) bought and renovated increasing amounts of land and dozens of buildings in the town and at a former Army base, Fort Russell, at the town's edge. Today, Marfa is home to the Judd Foundation which maintains the many spaces that made up Judd's home, studios and library; and the Chinati Foundation, established by Judd, which takes up all of former Fort Russell and operates as a museum with ten permanent art installations by as many artists, and two changing exhibition spaces (in perspective and approach, very similar to Dia:Beacon in upstate New York). Marfa's high concentration of art activity (including not only Judd and Chinati but a bustling contemporary art scene, the center of which is Ballroom Marfa) and its distance from everything else (two hours drive from El Paso, and thirty miles away from the next closest town) makes visiting the town something of an art pilgrimage.

Along with his artwork and art installations, Judd is also a well-known and well-respected art writer. Coming to Judd via his writings—whether you do so before, after, or during a visit to Marfa—is a kind of pilgrimage in and of itself.

The first stop on the Judd writing pilgrimage is Donald Judd: The Complete Writings 1959–1975, Gallery Reviews, Book Reviews, Articles, Letters to the Editor, Reports, Statements, Complaints. Often referred to simply as "the yellow book", this collection of Judd's writings was first published in 1975 and, after falling out of print for some time, was subsequently re-printed in 2005, both times by the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design Press. Now readily available, this is the primary Judd volume for study today. It includes Judd's most famous single essay, Specific Objects, as well as his many early art reviews, about which artist and writer Mel Bochner has said: "Judd produced the most important body of art criticism of the 1960s. Simply put, if you want to understand what happened in contemporary art between 1959 and 1965 there is no other place to turn." 

What's important to note, and what's often overlooked, however, is that though this is a volume of "complete" writings and is the one currently available in stores and most libraries, it's not actually complete. Judd, after all, lived until 1994. Meaning that the yellow book leaves out nineteen years, or more than half of Judd's career as an artist and an art writer.

Given the richness and importance of Judd's extant writings, the idea that half his output still remains widely unread is pretty exciting. The art world version of, say, discovering a half-dozen lost Mark Twain manuscripts. Of course, Judd's later writings are not really lost. They definitely were read upon their original publication, and certainly more and more so as Judd's reputation grew. But the difficulty in finding them today, and the more ready availability of the yellow book, has undoubtedly led to a kind of cultural blind spot or amnesia about the work. To wit, two of Judd's major artistic legacies are his personal installations in Marfa, and his creation of the Chinati Foundation there. Both of these moves let Judd explore and develop important ideas about how art, once created, is experienced and how it relates to architecture and the land. It was only in 1972 however that Judd first started spending extended time in Marfa, which means that the yellow book lacks the bulk of the artist's mature thinking on the subject.

There have been a few efforts at collecting at least some of this later material, particularly Donald Judd: The Complete Writings, 1976–1986, published by the Van Abbemuseum, in Eindhoven. This small, paperback volume includes essays on installation, art and architecture, Abstract Expressionism, masterpieces, symmetry, Marfa, furniture (also an important pursuit for Judd which happened primarily later in his career) and Chinati. Ultimately worth the struggle, the book is unfortunately nearly impossible to get a hold of, with virtually none currently for sale and maybe only a couple dozen copies listed in library holdings in the States.

Other than the Van Abbemuseum edition there have been two other European efforts: Donald Judd: Ecrits 1963–1990, and Donald Judd: Architecktur (1989), this last of which is not focused solely on Judd's writings, but includes a fair amount nonetheless. The books are in French and German respectively, but may include at least some text in English. 

Beyond these volumes, the next stop in tracking down Judd's later writings isn't to a book but instead to the Chinati Foundation Newsletter. Published annually, each issue of the Foundation's extended newsletter includes one or more essays by Judd, and each issue is available in full on the Foundation's website as a free, downloadable PDF. While many of the Judd pieces included have been from earlier years—and so already available in the yellow or Van Abbemuseum books—we found seven that are newer (links are to the full newsletter downloads):

And that's it. Short of going to the library and researching and accessing his essays, articles and reviews publication by publication, the sources we've cited so far represent the current extent of Donald Judd's complete and collected writings. For now.

Tantalizingly, in the library at the Chinati Foundation in Marfa, is a large stack of photocopies that are proofs for a book referred to by one Chinati intern and guide as Volume I. As it turns out, it was Judd's intention to publish his complete, collected writings (essays and articles previously published and not) and he was planning on doing it in three volumes. The photocopied proofs of Volume I were the partial result of that intention. No word yet who the original publisher might have been, or how much further than the proofs of Volume I Judd might have gotten in the process before his death. However, in good news for fans of Judd's writing, the Judd Foundation has confirmed it still plans "to do all that Judd wanted with his writings" even as they caution that "there remains much work and research to do in advance with this vast archive".

In the meantime, there's one last book definitely worth mentioning, not of Judd's writings themselves but of an appreciation of them. In May of 2008, the Chinati Foundation hosted a symposium called The Writings of Donald Judd and subsequently published a book of the eleven papers presented there by a variety of artists, historians, critics and curators. The various papers cover not only the influence and meanings of Judd's writings (specifically and broadly) but also Judd's life, artistic development and the reception of his work; as well as the role and history of artists' writings in general. Surprisingly, the book is not being distributed anywhere, nor is it even listed on the Chinati website. It does exist though, and we're told that if you contact Chinati directly they'd be happy to ring you up a copy and ship it out. Try them at 432) 729-4362, the 200+ page paperback costs around $20 and is certainly worth it. Or, call up the Marfa Book Company at 432) 729-3906. A bookstore that deserves a mention of its own, not only as Marfa's only bookshop and one of the cultural centers of the town, but as an undeniably beautiful and friendly store with a world-class selection of art books that includes, of course, the yellow book.

Wednesday
Jul272011

Still a good idea

On Monday, July 25, 2011, we posted here on our blog about a exploratory project we called a "bootleg book". This particular bootleg was a paperback book version of the summer 2011 issue of Artforum magazine. Taking its name from a special, extended section in the issue on Abstract Expressionism, the book was titled Acting Out: The AbEx Effect, and was intended to demonstrate how the writing in art magazines might take a wholly other, and possibly effective, form.

We created the book by scanning the printed magazine, digitizing the text and redesigning it into a one-hundred-eighty page, black-and-white book-friendly layout. We printed five copies, four of which we sent to the editor, executive editor, design director and publisher of Artforum. It felt like a triumph. 

Two days later, we received a letter from a lawyer representing the magazine. The letter made clear that Artforum considered the book copyright infringement and they demanded we remove all related materials from our website. This was crushing. Not only because we had a lawyer threatening us (even if in a professional tone) but because of the unexpectedly, and unabashedly negative reaction we provoked from Artforum itself. It was never our intention to do any harm. Nor was it our intention to spend the rest of our days arguing the finer points of copyright law or in so doing, to pick a fight with the magazine. So, we removed the post. No more bootleg.

Lessons Learned

The basic idea behind the book was to demonstrate that art writing that traditionally lives in only one form (in this case a large-format, glossy magazine with ads) can easily and perhaps beneficially live in another form as well (a small paperback book with only black-and-white images and no ads). We thought that creating the actual physical book and calling it a bootleg would be the most interesting and attention-getting way of distributing this fundamental idea. We used Artforum because it's so unlike a humble paperback book, and because their summer issue had this great, book-ready special section. We could have chosen another art magazine though, as our point wasn't about the specific content, only about the form that content takes. Obviously, the choices we thought were the best, were also the most troublesome.

For the blog post itself, along with a description of the how and why of the project, we used six pictures of the printed book itself instead of straight images of the layouts and cover. This let us focus on the physicality of the object itself, which again was our point: that content can live in different objects, different forms.

At the end of the post, following the book images and description, we wrote: "We've sent a few copies to the good folks at Artforum, but otherwise, if you're interested in seeing a copy yourself, you'll need to email us and we'll see what we can do." We wouldn't do this again. At the time, we honestly (if, in hindsight, also naïvely) thought that Artforum would really like the book concept and, with their approval, wouldn't mind us sending out a handful of copies to interested folks. We thought this might be five or six copies, and though ultimately we got thirty requests before the post was taken down, this is still pretty paltry compared to a magazine circulation that must be in excess of 25,000. Of course, we also honestly thought we'd hear from the magazine's editor instead of its lawyer, so obviously our judgement is not to be trusted. 

The other big lesson learned was that we needed to be more clear that—despite its physical reality—this was only a conceptual project. Most people understood this, but not all. We received a number of emails from individuals interested in getting a copy of the book not because they thought it was an interesting publishing concept but because they wanted to read the summer issue that way. Still, though we weren't expecting to hear from them, these readers are the exact customer base we wanted to convince Artforum existed, and as it turns out, they do.

This, in the end, is maybe the hardest part about taking down the post that shared our bootleg idea. People were interested. Interesting people with good ideas were excited by concept and wanted to talk about it further; book and magazine publishers wanted to learn how it was done and how it might be applied to their own projects; and art scholars, critics, students and general readers were interested in seeing and reading content this way. Luckily, it's still a good idea.

Wednesday
Jun152011

Art Institute of Chicago's partnership with Taschen shows disturbing lack of cultural leadership

It was reported yesterday in the Chicago Tribune online that art book eye-candy publisher Taschen has opened a branded store-within-a-store at the Art Institute of Chicago.

With the new layout in the museum's shop (I assume this is in the main shop in the museum's new modern wing), Taschen "makes up about 30 percent of the museum store's reconfigured book section with three tables, two walls and a rotating bookstand." The publisher doesn't pay rent for the space, "but it does oversee its branding." The agreement came about in part as the Art Institute was streamlining (cost cutting) its book department and found that "Taschen was the store's best-selling vendor and it offered among the most competitive [wholesale] prices".

The more I think about this, the worse it makes me feel.

While I have no problem with these kind of cooperative agreements for mini-stores or other kinds of marketing between museums and publishers, I have a HUGE problem with what such a partnership with Taschen in particular says about the Art Institute and about its attitude toward its art and its visitors.

I'll just say it, Taschen produces schlock. Beautiful, sexy, inexpensive fast-selling schlock at a great margin yes, but still schlock. By giving up nearly a third of its book section to this kind of content, I'd argue that the Art Institute is essentially saying to its visitors, "Look at our pretty pictures. Don't learn about them. Don't think too hard about them. Just look at them! They're cheap and plentiful and shiny!" For an art museum of any size, this is a disturbing attitude to take.

And don't tell me that what is carried in the bookstore is inconsequential to the message the museum gives to its visitors. I'd be willing to bet anything that in a given day the museum shop gets more foot traffic than at least 50 percent of the galleries in a large museum like the AIC. 

I also understand the budget and revenue issues the museum was surely facing (as an independent publisher, God knows I understand). I don't argue that Taschen may help the museum in this regard, but making decisions based on financial issues without a thought as to the larger ramifications is short-sighted and shows extremely poor cultural leadership on the museum's part. The museum should be protecting, sharing and celebrating visual art. Instead, with the new Taschen partnership, it's cheapening it.

In reconfiguring their bookstore, the AIC had the opportunity to choose a complete different direction. Instead of getting rid of small publishers with low sales numbers, they could have invited more in. The AIC could have chosen to make themselves Chicago's premier destination for art books of all kinds and created a market for publishers of all sizes who are working diligently, creatively and thoughtfully in the field of art. The message they sent to their visitors could have been, "Look at the range and depth of great work being published about visual art. There's something for everyone to learn about and to enjoy. Pick a book up. Don't be intimidated. Learn a little bit more about what you've seen today and come back to visit us again for more great books on art and more great experiences with art."

I wish Taschen well and don't begrudge them for this effort, but it would be an enormous and endlessly-disappointing mistake for other museums to follow the AIC's lead. As Creed Poulson, the spokesman for Taschen America, says of the new store: "The million-dollar question [emphasis mine] is would we do this in other museums. We would certainly be open to that. We're very eager to see how this plays out." The answer from those other museums we can only hope, is a resounding no.

Tuesday
Jun072011

See that book in that van Gogh painting? We're publishing it.

Portrait of Dr. Gachet, Vincent van Gogh, 1890.Pictured here is Portrait of Dr. Gachet, one of the last paintings done by Vincent van Gogh before the artist committed suicide in July of 1890. It's a great work on its own accord, but the portrait gained particular notoriety a hundred years after its creation when it was sold at auction for the then record-breaking price of $82.5 million. Author Cynthia Saltzman immortalized the moment in her terrific book on the painting and its sale, Portrait of Dr. Gachet: The Story of a van Gogh Masterpiece, Money, Politics, Collectors, Greed, and Loss.

Like me, you've probably seen reproductions of this work quite a lot, but did you ever notice those yellow books in the lower-left corner? I just stumbled into a reference that drew my attention to them. Van Gogh painted a legible title on the spine of each, and as it turns out, the top book is the 1867 French novel, Manette Salomon by the Goncourt brothers. The very same Manette Salomon that we happen to be publishing the first English translation of next spring! Very cool.

In short, Manette is about a group of artists of different types struggling to find their place in the art world of 1840s and 50s Paris. Written by Edmond and Jules de Goncourt, it fits neatly in the rich literary tradition of artists novels in France: appearing right between Balzac's The Unknown Masterpiece in 1831, and Émile Zola's L'Oeuvre in 1886. (The Goncourts were also responsible for the other yellow book on Dr. Gachet's table, the novel Germinie Lacerteux.) Going back to Saltzman's book, here's what she wrote on the significance of the books in the painting:

[Dutch scholar Evert van Uitert] argued that the yellow novels, Germinie Lacerteux and Manette Salomon, were not, as had been claimed, simply favorite books loaned by the artist to the doctor. Instead van Gogh had used them to align "the new art of portraiture" with "the modern novel," specifically as the Goncourts defined it in their preface to Germinie. The novel, the brothers contended, was "the great, serious, impassionate and living form of literary study and social inquiry," and also "contemporary moral history." The presence of the second book, Manette Salomon, van Uitert felt, also helped to shift the painting's melancholy theme away from the artist himself and toward the condition of French artists in the nineteenth century. He likened van Gogh's vision of the modern artist to that of the Goncourts, who describe the melancholy state of one of the artists in the novel:

"[He] came to that grief which seems in this century inevitably to crown the career and lives of the great painters of modern life. He was devoured by that fever of deception, that internal desolation which Gros called "the rage of the heart."

I love that by painting a title on a book, and in such a seemingly casual manner, van Gogh could add a whole range of depth and meaning to the portrait. I also love that in making the novel available for the first time in English (in a fantastic new translation by Tina A. Kover) we're going to be able to give a whole new audience access to that extra meaning for themselves. Plus, publishing a book that was known to an artist like van Gogh and was important enough to him to be included in a painting like this? Well, that kind of just kicks ass.

A specific pub date for Manette Salomon has not been set, but we expect it to be available in February or March of 2012. Please sign up for our email list to be kept up to date.

Friday
May272011

and it shall be more beautiful

In Rome on August 27, 1498, twenty-three year old artist Michelangelo entered into a written contract with Cardinal Bilhéres detailing a new sculpture commission to be executed in marble:

a draped figure of the Virgin Mary with the dead Christ in her arms, the figures being life-size, for the sum of four hundred and fifty gold ducats in papal gold ...

And in this brief, fascinating contract seemingly no detail was left unaccounted for, including this remarkable requirement on the artist:

that said Michelangelo shall complete said work within one year and that it shall be more beautiful than any work in marble to be seen in Rome today, and such that no master of our own time shall be able to produce a better ...

The craziest thing, Michelangelo actually pulled it off.

(This from a terrific book I'm reading now, and about which I'll have more to say I'm sure: Young Michelangelo, by John T. Spike.)

Tuesday
May172011

Der Blaue Reiter

Penguin books announced the name of its newest publishing imprint today, Blue Rider Press. The imprint's publisher, David Rosenthal, explained the significance of the name: “The Blue Rider name historically represents individuality and quality in the arts. And that same intent will be reflected in the eclectic fiction and nonfiction books Blue Rider Press will publish.” Of course, the real story is much more interesting than that.

Der Blaue Reiter was an art movement founded in Germany in 1911, surrounding a group of artists including Wassily Kandinsky and Franz Marc. As the Wikipedia article on the group describes them:

They believed in the promotion of modern art; the connection between visual art and music; the spiritual and symbolic associations of colour; and a spontaneous, intuitive approach to painting. 

Though the movement lasted only until the outbreak of the war in 1914, it left a lasting impression, due in no small part to its 1912 publication of The Blue Rider AlmanacThe Almanac was republished in English a few years ago by MFA Publications and worth a read.

Publisher's description: "Originally published in Munich in 1912 and edited by Kandinsky and Marc, The Blaue Reiter Almanac presented the movement’s synthesis of international culture to the European avant-garde at large. In both the selection of essays and its innovative interplay of word and image, The Blaue Reiter Almanac remains one of our most critically important works of literature on the art theory and culture of the 20th century. This edition, long unavailable in English and indispensable to any student of modernism, simulates the original German format, and includes documents, and musical notations, as well as seminal essays by Kandinsky, Schoenberg, Marc, and others. Nearly 150 illustrations, from ancient and contemporary sources, capture the wide-ranging interests and passions that inspired Kandinsky's and Marc's programmatic attempt to make modernism accessible across national and chronological boundaries. Also included is Klaus Lankheit's extensive critical introduction, which places the Blaue Reiter in context for contemporary readers."

Tuesday
May102011

James Cuno's "Object of Art Museums"

It was announced yesterday that James Cuno would be leaving his position as director of the Art Institute of Chicago to become the president and CEO of the J. Paul Getty Trust in Los Angeles. Though perhaps best known to the general public for its art museum, the Getty Trust also includes the Getty Research Institute, the Getty Conservation Institute and the Getty Foundation, and it is all of these institutions that Cuno will be overseeing.

Along with being a respected and admired museum director, over the last few years, Cuno has also edited and written three very important volumes on the broader role of museums in contemporary culture. Any one of which (all published by Princeton University Press) makes a good case for his appointment to lead the Getty.

    

The first, and my favorite, is Whose Muse?: Art Museums and the Public Trust. The book is the result of a series of lectures by six prominent museum directors, and along with essays by each director, the book also includes an edited transcript of a great round table discussion among them. Cuno's essay contribution is "The Object of Art Museums". And with "object" he purposefully implies both the broader purposes of museum as well as the physical things within them. I went back and re-read the essay. I may need to write more another time about his object-centered view (which I wholeheartedly subscribe to), but for now, a few passages from the "broader purposes" category:

"I like to think that by providing and preserving examples of beauty, museums foster a greater sense of caring in the world and urge their visitors to undergo a radical decentering before the work of art."

To the prevailing focus on temporary exhibitions "I offer an alternative museum experience: the permanent collection and the opportunity it affords for sustained and repeated engagements with individual works of art ..."

"The public has entrusted in us the authority and responsibility to select, preserve, and provide its access to works of art that can enhance, even change, people's lives. And in turn, we have agreed to dedicate all of our resources—financial, physical, and intellectual—to this purpose."

His overall vision is little rarified maybe, but all in all I think it's a valuable, ultimately healthy and promising foundation to lead on. I'll look forward to seeing where he takes the Trust, and can recommend to anyone interested in museums at all, to pick up any one of these books and start reading.

 

Monday
May092011

This one rings true

Today is publishing day for our new e-book, the art novel A Painter's Life by K. B. Dixon! I'm pretty excited. I first heard about this book back in December of 2009 on an art blog I regularly follow (and you should too), Two Coats of Paint. Two Coats is run by painter, professor and writer Sharon Butler. This line from her posting about A Painter's Life is what caught my attention:

"Often books about painters don't ring true, but this one, a compilation of journal entries, narrative, and art reviews about fictional painter Christopher Freeze does."

As a painter and writer herself, Butler's praise for Dixon's take on the artist's life, scores high marks in my estimation. It took me a year to actually get to reading the book myself (yes, my reading list is easily a year long at any given time), but when I finally managed to sit down with it over the holidays last year, I wasn't disappointed.

There is a increasingly rich literary tradition of artist novels stretching back to Émile Zola's classic 1886 novel L'Oeuvre (The Masterpiece), Honoré de Balzac's 1831 story The Unknown Masterpiece, and beyond. I've read dozens of them over the years, and A Painter's Life manages to not only be a great read, it's also a highly original take on the genre.

Two weeks after reading the book in it's original paperback, I contacted the author and asked him to let us publish the e-book edition. Happily, he agreed, and today I get to offer it to you—I know you'll enjoy.

Thursday
May052011

The pale silvery tones of Corot

“Writing about art is not a substitute for the art. Rather than standing in for the visual objects, texts about them ought, in the first place, to lead the reader (back) to those objects. Instead of being a substitute, a good text about art is a supplement to it.” —Mieke Bal

In first reading, and now publishing Corot by Elbert Hubbard, (currently available for free download). I have been wanting to spend some time in front of a Corot canvas or two. Being somewhere in southern Arizona, however, such opportunities don't come easily. So with some hopeful curiosity, I took a virtual trip to the National Gallery in London where I found a nice little collection of Corots online with suitably in-depth information and impressive image zooming capabilities. The online equivalent, I guess, of comprehensive wall labels and good lighting. Though I enjoyed poking around, ultimately I can't say it was all that satisfying an art experience. No surprise perhaps, but I did zoom my way into a few nice details that then brought me back to some of my favorite passages in the book:

"The pale silvery tones of Corot, the shadowy boundaries that separate the visible from the invisible can never be imitated ...

Cows in a Marshy Landscape (detail), Corot, probably 1860-70.

"Before a Corot you would better give way, and let its beauty caress your soul. His colors are thin and very simple—there is no challenge in his work as there is in the work of Turner. Greens and grays predominate, and the plain drab tones are blithe, airy, gracious ...

The Marsh at Arleux (detail), Corot, 1871.

"Corot coquettes with color—with pale lilac, silver gray, and diaphanous green. He poetizes everything he touches—quiet ponds, clumps of bushes, white-washed cottages, simple swards, yellow cows, blowsy peasants, woodland openings, stretching meadows and winding streams—they are all full of divine suggestion and joyous expectancy. 

Souvenir of a Journey to Coubron (detail), Corot, 1873.

"Something is just going to happen—somebody is coming, someone we love—you can almost detect a faint perfume, long remembered, never to be forgotten. A Corot is a tryst with all that you most admire and love best—it speaks of youth, joyous, hopeful, expectant youth."

Souvenir of Palluel (detail), Corot, 1871.

All image details © The National Gallery, London

Tuesday
May032011

Quick Notes on the Best Things in Books  

  • Tyler Green has started a regular feature at his Modern Art Notes blog: Best Books. Every week he'll be featuring a recent book on art. The first was John Marin’s Watercolors: A Medium for Modernism by Martha Tedesch, and the second, Ed Ruscha: Road Tested, by Michael Auping with Richard Prince.
  • At Hyperallergic, Merel van Beeren interviews Carol Wallace, the author of Leaving Van Gogh, a new novel written from the perspective of Van Gogh's physician, Dr. Gachet. 
  • Judith Dobrzynski points us to two new publications: Romare Bearden, American Modernist, a more scholarly book from the National Gallery of Art, but also just reviewed in the more populist (?) Wall Street Journal; and Joan Mitchell: Lady Painter by Patricia Albers [no relation] who also wrote a very well-regarded biography of artist Tina Modotti.
  • Melanie Flood gives us a nice photography reading list.
  • At Frieze, Joanne McNeil interviews UbuWeb founder Kenneth Goldsmith. Read the interview and then go to Ubu and find something fun to download.
  • Finally, this is old news, but blogger and renaissance man Greg Allen speed-published a fascinating book on the controversial court decision against artist Richard Prince in a copyright infringement case: Canal Zone Richard Prince YES RASTA: Selected Court Documents from Cariou v. Prince et al.
Friday
Apr292011

"Wait there a minute, please, sheepy-sheepy, and a great man will paint you."

Today we're happy to be releasing a new e-book, Corot, by Elbert Hubbard. Part of our new line of classic books on art, this brief biography of the French painter Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot was originally published in 1902. I first came across the book only four weeks ago in Magers & Quinn Booksellers in Minneapolis. Both as a reader and as a publisher I'm always on the lookout for interesting books on art, and the worn old copy of the nicely printed original Corot pamphlet cost just a few dollars. It was a happy find.

Reading it later, I found Hubbard's writing engaging and entertaining, but it wasn't until I came across this excerpt—from the very lively letter of Corot's that's included in the book—that I knew we'd publish an e-book edition:

A good picture is full of motion. Clouds that stand still are not clouds—motion, activity, life, yes, life is what we want—life!

Bam! A peasant comes out of the cottage and is coming to the meadow.

Ding, ding, ding! There comes a flock of sheep led by a bell wether. Wait there a minute, please, sheepy-sheepy, and a great man will paint you.

All right then, don’t wait. I didn’t want to paint you anyway.

I can't blame most people for glazing over at the phrase "nineteenth century French art", but they're people that haven't read texts like these. "Wait there a minute, please, sheepy-sheepy, and a great man will paint you." Individual, honest, playful and passionate. A little silly too maybe, but it's writing like this that makes far-away-seeming art and artists come alive. 

My dream is to host a live, dramatic reading of Corot's letter on stage somwhere, but for now I'll have to be satisfied with this new e-book edition. And to celebrate the finding of the book at Magers & Quinn, and to encourage it be found again and again, we're making it free to download for a limited time. Enjoy!

An ewe and a lamb, Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot, ca. 1825. © musée du Louvre département des Arts graphiques.

Friday
Apr222011

Pilgrims and Caretakers

I hope you've read Geoff Dyer's great piece on Walter De Maria's Lightning Field and Robert Smithson's Spiral Jetty in last week's New Yorker. Dyer's a lovely writer who comes to his subject (no matter what it is) from his own unique perspective of curiosity, exploration and creativity. Of his many previous books, a couple have dealt with art. The first was The Ongoing Moment,  his take on photography, and the second was Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi, a novel in which the main character is an art journalist and the first half of the book takes place at the Venice Biennale.

In this latest art essay, Dyer meanders (literally and literarily) through these great works of Land Art, and through larger ideas of place and pilgrimage. It's based on a lecture he gave last year, which is itself worth a look, whether or not you read the essay, or if you don't subscribe and can't get past the New Yorker's paywall.

Dyer speaks about visiting these places and how that act, the physical travel that is required, makes up so much of our experience of the works themselves. This is true for almost everyone. The exception being (it is easy to forget) the caretakers of these works, particularly those for The Lightning Field, and for some of De Maria's other works like The New York Earth Room and The Broken Kilometer, both in New York City. And it is these caretakers who were the subject of another essay I hope you'll read, this one from a not-so-past-issue of Art Lies and written by Graham T. Beck. As he writes of the three people who have been largely responsible for these particular three works: 

"Between the three of them—Bill, Patti and Robert—they’ve spent sixty-eight years with Walter De Maria’s art, which would be impressive under most circumstances, but given the crucial role that time plays in these creations, it’s really quite exceptional."

In a culture that fosters single visits to blockbuster exhibitions of often hundreds of works of arts, Beck's highlighting of this alternate experience of art feels refreshing and even revelatory. Read it, and then at 3pm eastern time today join the Dia Foundation's #AskDia forum on Twitter where Bill Dilworth (the 20-year-plus New York Earth Room caretaker) will be answering your tweeted questions live. Very cool, and los to keep you entertained, and properly distracted, on this spring Friday.

Thursday
Apr142011

"Learn to read art"

A terrific pin, designed some years ago by artist Lawrence Weiner for the incomparable Printed Matter. Get yours today for a mere $7.50!

Friday
Apr012011

MoMA Books iPad App—Better E-Archive than E-Reader

Officially released on Monday, MoMA Books is an iPad app which currently offers free samples of five MoMA publications (with more to come) which can then be purchased for between $19.99 and $49.99 and viewed in full, in high resolution, within the app. These "e-books" duplicate the pages and layouts of the original print editions exactly. It's beautiful viewing, but when it comes to actually reading the books, of questionable utility.

Reading the books requires zooming into a page and manually swiping around the various columns of text. This makes for an awkward reading experience at best. Additionally, the app lacks text search, highlighting, or note-taking of any kind. The one e-book-like feature that is offered in MoMA Books is bookmarking. As many pages as you want, as often as you want. So, if that's what you're looking for in an e-reading experience, maybe this is for you.

  
Full page from Modern Women: Women Artists at The Museum of Modern Art viewed in MoMA Books app, and maximum zoom of that same page, showing page navigation and bookmark controls

It's also not at all clear if you can download purchased books onto your computer or other device, or if you can then print the pages. At those prices you'd hope so, but then again, at those prices, who'd want to risk trying?

The app's overall approach will be of value for those looking to access these titles instantly and as they originally appeared (and a couple are indeed otherwise out of print and for this I applaud MoMA) or who merely want to enjoy them like they might one sitting on their coffee table, but there's little incentive for those wanting to read or study the texts in any detail. In that case, you'd be better off finding a print copy at your local library or bookstore.

While their effort is commendable and lovely to look at, the app ultimately seems little more than a glorified PDF reader. Were MoMA trying only to create a library of PDFs, LACMA's free online Reading Room seems a better approach. Were they trying to create a true e-book experience, I would have liked to see them think about stripped-down simplified versions of the books that could be optimized for e-book devices like the Kindle or Nook (exchanging layout for legibility), or in the other direction, something more like MoMA's own very successful, extremely smart and impressive iPad app/exhibition catalogue, MoMA AB EX NY. Or some combination of all these things. As it stands now though, MoMA Books might be better named MoMA Archive, more properly implying a historical collection of the museum's publishing past, rather than a technological leap into its future.

MoMA Books Titles Available:

  • Atget, by John Szarkowski (2000) $24.99 books app / out of print
  • Beyond the Visible: The Art of Odilon Redon, by Jodi Hauptman (2005) $39.99 books app / out of print
  • Modern Women: Women Artists at The Museum of Modern Art, by Cornelia H. Butler and Alexandra Schwartz (2010) $49.99 or three chunks at $19.99 each in the books app / $65.00 hardcover
  • Contemporary Chinese Art: Primary Documents, by Wu Hung with Peggy Wang, (2010) $19.99 books app / $40.00 paperback
  • Objects of Design from The Museum of Modern Art, by Paola Antonelli (2003) $19.99 books app / $39.95 hardcover