Blog posts of '2015' 'November'

This morning, while looking for something else entirely, I stumbled upon the stunning work of US-based bookbinder Monique Lallier.  I thought I'd use this post to share a flavour of her works with others. Monique Lallier is, according to the Library of Syracuse University, an 'internationally recognised' bookbinder and book artist who trained in her native Canada and then in Paris and Switzerland with Hugo Peller.  She is now works and teaches out of studios in Summerfield, North Carolina which she shares with her husband, the renown English-born bookbinder Don Etherton. Lallier's work can be found in the collections of McGill University, Montreal; Louisiana State University, the University of North Carolina as well as in many private collections in the US, Europe, Canada and Japan (although, sadly, not in mine!).  She has exhibited extensively, including with the Guild of Bookworkers and is a Director of the American Academy of Bookbinding.  My interest in designer bookbinder is relatively new which may explain why I have not come across her work before - but given the beauty of her work, newness can't excuse it. This is one of my favourites from those I've seen so far. [caption id="attachment_1090" align="alignnone" width="736"] La Petite Poule d'Eau bu Gabrille Roy, bound by Monique Lallier[/caption] In this example, Lallier has used a french binding technique and a process called lacunose, which involves sanding different pieces of leather as well as lots of time and muscle-power, to cover a copy of La Petite Poule d’Eau by Gabrielle Roy. La Petite Poule d'Eau tells the story of a village in Canada and Lallier has said of this binding that she was seeking to convey a sense of the village's physical structure and its colourful characters.  I think it works. This lovely kangeroo blue leather binding covers Emile Zola's La Fete a Coqueville. [caption id="attachment_1109" align="alignright" width="800"] Emile Zola's La Fete a Coqueville, bound by Monique Lalllier
[/caption]  The circular onlays have once again been created using lacunose.  It has french embroidered endbands and edge to edge doublure (decorative lining on the inside) of red leather.  The raised circular onlays remind me of raindrops landing.   This beautiful binding of Lost and Found - a work about the illustrator Rachel Rackett - has a special and wholly appropriate feature, a section which is hidden, or lost, just waiting to be found. [caption id="attachment_1116" align="alignnone" width="736"] Lost and Found, bound by Monique Lallier[/caption] The black leather binding, with its elegant, decorative, crumbled stripes appears simple enough.  But explore a little further and the binding reveals a secret compartment which can be folded out to reveal a tumbling, crazy-made urban panel. [caption id="attachment_1121" align="alignnone" width="736"] Lost and Found, with the secret panel revealed[/caption] The secret panel technique is, according to the Herringbone Bindery, unique to Lallier, who first developed it in 1985 for a binding of L’Ecorce et le Vent, where a panel opens out to reveal a layered forest of trees in a striking contrast colour. [caption id="attachment_1125" align="alignnone" width="650"] L'Ecorce et Le Vent, bound by Monqiue Lallier[/caption]   I would love to be able to add one of two of Lallier's works to my collection.  But for the moment I shall have to content myself with virtual images.  And for that purpose, I've created a wee Monique Lallier Pininterest board, where you can see more of her works.  Lallier has a website with not one but two lovely image galleries.  

Collecting may be a bit of grand term of what is really no more than a wee shelf-full of almost randomly accumulated signed modern first editions. But for reasons I find hard to define I do like to have books signed by the author or someone else associated with the book (the latter more properly called 'association copies' than 'signed firsts', which implies the author's signature is present). I don't have the funds - or the discipline - to collect actively or pay the hyper-inflated prices of some modern firsts, especially those in fine condition in fine dust jackets. (The recently launched Stanley Gibbons index of rare book prices suggested one might have to pay as much as £24,000 for a nice first edition of Ian Fleming's Casino Royale, and that's without a signature!)  And anyway, I buy books because I want to read them, not to file them away and preserve them, untouched and unspoilt.  But when browsing bookshops, finding a signed first on offer may just be what tempts me to buy that book over another, or to purchase right then and there rather than wait, and think, and probably move on to something else. This week's book buying, then, might be defined as one of success for both the crafty booksellers promoting signed modern firsts and for me as I have managed to find four that I wanted to read anyway. My first find was Slade House by the masterful David Mitchell, spotted as I was taking a shortcut from the London Library to Piccadilly Circus tube through Waterstone's Piccadilly.  I'll read just about anything by Mitchell but this one is such a beautiful book so it's a bit special. I love the way the book has been made to glisten by the tiny cut-outs in the dust jacket.  Those little flashes of red you can see are not printed but the binding cloth glowing through.  So clever and so effective - and just about perfect for a  ghostly-themed novel which must have been specifically timed for Hallowe'en. Then, yesterday, a visit to my favourite, local bookshop, Wimbledon Books and Music. (Ostensibly trying to find a copy of David Park's The Light of Amsterdam to read before bookclub next week - I failed on that score & had to turn to my bookseller of last resort, Amazon, who true to their word, delivered today).  I came home with three more signed first editions: The Little Red Chairs by Edna O'Brien, A Snow Garden by Rachel Joyce and Public Library and Other Stories by Ali Smith.  I really enjoyed Joyce's Perfect, so was tempted to try another but most of all I'm looking forward to The Little Red Chairs. It's some years since I've read anything by Edna O'Brien - too long to be without her challenging voice and masterful storytelling. A Snow Garden and The Little Red Chairs are nice enough looking to grace my beautiful books bookshelf but I do think that the presentation of Public Library and Other Stories is dull and uninviting.  But Ali Smith will always tempt me, however her books are dressed.