Note: this post is longer than I anticipated… if you just want to see the damn pictures already, scroll down to the bottom.
With apologies to Carol Es, whose artist book I should have been working on yesterday, I have to say that this little project is pretty damn cool. It’s in the vein of the Dan Clowes Death Ray portfolio I made a few months ago – which is to say, I tried to ingratiate myself to cartoonists whom I admire by making a handmade portfolio for their books. Although, the difference in this case is that, unlike Dan Clowes, who is WAY too big-time for Chance Press (he’s written entire movies!), I am courting John Porcellino and Noah Van Sciver, trying to get them to publish with us. So, I put together three copies of this project – one for me, and one for each cartoonist.
While extremely different, their work is oddly complementary. John Porcellino is an absolute master of minimalist cartooning, whose simple, clean, and emotionally charged line drawings look even more sparse when compared to Noah Van Sciver’s wobbling yet assured self-deprecating caricatures. Porcellino has been self-publishing his King-Cat zine since I was 8 years old (21 years ago, for reference), and while Van Sciver is newer to the scene, his ongoing series “Blammo” – now in its 6th issue - has been gaining traction, with the latest issue even nominated for an Ignatz award. It wouldn’t have occurred to me to seek out these two guys in tandem, but they happened to pass through the Bay Area on a West Coast tour, making a stop at the San Francisco Zine Fest, where they shared a table. I talked to them a little bit about Chance Press and what we do, and I gave them a couple trade editions… both were receptive, but I thought it would be cool to really drive the point home and show them the kind of stuff we’re capable of doing.
The thing is, much of the zine/self-publishing aesthetic revolves around photocopies, office paper, and staples (although certainly not all of it, and I could go on and on about all the stuff I saw at the Zine Fest this weekend that was really elegantly designed), and so I don’t know how many self-publishing cartoonists are even aware of the handmade book arts, or if they are, how it really applies to their work. They’re busy enough – since I have not a single iota of artistic talent, I’m unable to tell you first-hand how long it takes to pencil, ink, and publish a comic, but I appreciate the amount of effort involved. And so I don’t really expect people to go to the lengths we do to publish their own work, since most self-publishers’ primary concern is getting their work out there to as many people as possible. What I want to do, however, is merge the work that they are putting out with the hand-made, high-quality approach that we use, in hopes that it furthers people’s ideas of what kinds of work lend themselves to limited-edition, deluxe publications.
In other words: this February will be the 3rd Codex Foundation International Symposium and Book Fair. The work exhibited at this fair is amazing, and the average price is around $500 for an item (although you can find books for over $25,000 pretty easily). Unlike the Zine Fest, where $60 buys you a 1/2 table, getting in at the Codex fair will set you back $550 for a 1/2 table or $800 for a full table. It draws a well-moneyed crowd, so hopefully you can get that money back selling your very expensive fine press books. But – and I’ve written about this before – a lot of the actual work that fine presses publish just isn’t that good. Self-indulgent wanky poetry of the Dana Gioia variety, etchings and block prints that do nothing to distinguish themselves, or even “conceptual” texts that sound good on paper but are less appealing when they’re sitting on your shelf between hand-dyed eelskin covers in an edition that set you back two months’ pay.
With the goal of showcasing the quality work that many artists self-publish in stapled booklets in a higher end package, I bought a few copies of Porcellino’s King-Cat #71 and Van Sciver’s recently published “Noah Novella” (which isn’t actually self-published, but I chose this over one of the Blammo issues, since it was the same size as KC 71), and set about pulling out the staples and then sewing them into a hardcover Z-binding. Justine can’t stand this green color, but I love it… I wanted to use it for Carol’s book as well, although Carol apparently also can’t stand it, since she steadfastly vetoed it. Artists, right? No, she was right all along, which is evidenced by the fact that the ones I’ve put together using the indigo cloth we agreed upon look amazing. But, back to the project at hand, I used all deluxe materials, because I wanted to really pull out all the stops and make a statement. Some half-assed rebinding wouldn’t accomplish what I wanted here – my goal was to go back to the Zine Fest the next day (today), and hand them books that would elicit a response like, “WOW, I’ve never SEEN my work in something like this.” (And, I’m happy to report, their reactions may not have been quite so emphatic, but they did both seem to think it was pretty neat.)
The boards are very thick – I used ones that I had laying around after binding up the CPR books this spring – and using three of them in a Z-binding makes a really heavy brick of a book that is pretty awesome. The bookcloth is imported from Italy: the green cloth on the outer covers is Cialux, and the black cloth on the inner board is Canapetta (which I can’t get enough of, and I wish it came in more colors, since the texture and thickness are really, really appealing). The front and rear pastedowns (which I printed using Epson Ultrachrome K3 inks) are Canson Infinity Arches Aquarelle, and the colophon page is Canson Infinity Rag Photographiqe. The way this book is constructed, one side of the inner board has the colophon page pasted down, and so for symmetry, I tipped a single sheet of Japanese Mulberry paper to the other side. This way, you can pull the paper back and see the bookcloth, but when you open the book, it functions as a sort of endpaper. I decided to put the colophon on the Noah Van Sciver side, because (not to get too esoteric), Porcellino’s drawings remind me of Zen illustrations I have seen, which in turn complement the Japanese tissue paper.
So, there you have it – about 3 hours of work for 3 books start-to-finish… not bad at all (not having to print/collate/fold the books certainly helped). When I delivered the books today, I got my copy signed by both, which makes this a really awesome addition to my comics collection, as well as the Chance Press library. Even if we don’t end up publishing either author, it was still a really fun project and a good way to experiment with a binding design I’ve never tried before… and, if we’re lucky, look out for some new publishing announcements in the next few months.
(Also note: if anyone is dying to have one of these for their own, please send me an email and we can talk about it. Unlike the Dan Clowes portfolio, which I can’t sell due to the fact that the front cover directly reproduces his art without authorization, I don’t think it’s technically illegal to rebind other authors’ work. The covers would have to be different, though, since those are reproductions of images that I don’t own the rights for.)
Pictures!



(That's the Mulberry paper with the deckle edge along the top.)
