Rouze Up!

Welcome to 2010! We've completed our inventory and our redecorating, and will post photos here soon. In the meantime, Mr. Marsh brought us a beautiful letterpress postcard with a message that seemed a good way to begin the new year. Just click on the picture to see it larger.

From Mr. Marsh: Here's something that came in the post-box for Wonderella over the holidays, part of a pack of small letterpress cards from my colleague Alan Brignull of The Hedgehog Press. William Blake, letterpress postcard, an artistic call to arms...what more can one want? Alan's about nothing if not equality for all, so I'm sure he'd say that the message applies to the rouzing up of all Young Women of the New Age, too. If anyone wants to get in touch with Alan, he's at:

Alan Brignull
The Hedgehog Press
33 Heath Road
Wivenhoe
Colchester
C07 9PU
England

Rouze up O Young Men of the New Age!
Set your foreheads against the ignorant Hirelings! For we have hirelings in the Camp, the Court & the University : who would if they could, forever depress Mental & prolong Corporeal War.

Painters! On you I call! Sculptors! Architects! Suffer not the fashionable Fools to depress your powers by the prices they pretend to give for contemptible works or the expensive advertizing boasts that they make of such works...
--William Blake, from the preface to Milton

A Sign for All Time

If you've ever walked around Berkeley and stopped in your tracks to check out a well-made sign for a shop or restaurant, chances are you were admiring the work of Steven Vigeant, owner of Berkeley Signs. (Click over to Steven's portfolio for some memorable shingles.)

We hired Steven to make a sign to hang above the door at Castle in the Air, and look at the unbelievably gorgeous one that he brought us! Just like the artisan products we carry, the sign is made with the same attention to detail and old-school methods we love. Steven created it in a Victorian style, with chipped glass, painstaking hand-lettering, and three kinds of gold leaf.

From the moment the sign went up last week, people on Fourth Street have stopped to comment on how much they love it. It catches their eye because it's such a rare treat to see real art used in commerce. We're living in a time in which mechanization is favored for its convenience and craftsmanship is dying out. I'll venture to say that the only person who loves the sign more than us and our customers is Steven himself, because he got the chance to go back to the techniques and tools of a golden age. And because the sign's double-sided, he got to make two! I hope you can come by and see it in person. We're so pleased to have it pointing the way into the shop.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Whatcha doin'?" It's a fairly common question at Castle in the Air, especially among the staff. There are at least two qualities I would say we all share here at the shop -- our own artistic expertise and a curiosity about each others' work. So it's often the case that we collaborate on projects, especially large ones around the holidays. Sometimes it's planned, and other times it grows out of that simple question: "Whatcha doin'?"

Take the holiday wonder John McRae's been putting together for us. (I promise I'll tell you what it is soon. I know, I'm dying to tell you too, but I'm kind of enjoying the suspense!) When he realized that it needed a wintry backdrop scene, he asked if I could pitch in. Of course!

So here's one more tantalizing glimpse at what we're putting together. It will be up in the store after the Grand Transformation this Thursday. But until then, you can find out more by dropping by, peering over our shoulders, and asking "Whatcha doin'?"

Worlds Within Worlds

We're all back from our jaunt now, transitioning from the fantasyland that is Halloween in New York to the equally bizarre and expectant pre-Christmas world at Castle in the Air. More on that soon, but today I want to describe my dream world experience on Halloween day.

Somehow my vacation let my body get a nasty cold, but I was determined to attend the amazing day of multimedia presentations that was Lawrence Weschler's "Halloween Wonder Cabinet" at NYU's Cantor Film Center. Weschler brought together a dozen speakers and performers to talk about the marvels of art, science, nature, and where they all combine. Listening to Laurie Anderson talk about hanging out with NASA was all the more spacy as I sat in the dark, my cold fogging my senses. I didn't know how out of it I was until the next day, when I realized that the familiar looking gentleman in the tiny audience whose identity I'd been puzzling over was Lou Reed. Or maybe not.

Weschler arranged the day's talks to progress from the macrocosmic to the minute, so after (among other presentations) hearing Walter Murch's concert of the music of planetary orbits and witnessing Peter Hutton's meditative movie of light falling on the fjords of Iceland, I traveled to the microscopic world of May Berenbaum, who gave an appropriately spooky talk about insect antics creepier than anything you'll see in a horror film, including bugs that wear corpses as disguises or mimic dung to avoid being eaten.

By the end of the final presentation, the neighborhood's trick-or-treating kids had already gone home to bask in glory of their candy cornucopias. I emerged into New York's Halloween night beset by demons in dime-store masks, carrying my own basket of imaginations and dreams back into the fantasyland we call the real world.

Mr. Marsh Speaks!

My family is taking a brief Halloween holiday to go to New York City, where we'll be checking out the fall leaves and, as fate would have it, cheering on our own Mr. Marsh at his first author appearance!

Mr. Marsh will be discussing The Mentalist's Handbook at Observatory in Brooklyn the evening of Thursday, October 29. I couldn't miss this chance to visit Observatory, especially as it is the gallery space for one of my favorite weblogs, Morbid Anatomy.

To learn more about Mr. Marsh's appearance, visit the Observatory website. Maybe we'll see you there!

The Journey

Today Mr. Marsh brought us a publication from one of his wandering correspondents in Portland, Oregon. He says he's inspired by the magazine--Communicating Vessels--because its publisher rejects so many of the trappings that most of us take for granted, including a computer, telephones, and beginning with the next issue, outside printing services.

Despite the material differences between his publishing and ours, we seem to share common roots in what inspires us. Here's a page from Communicating Vessels where a traveler describes his visit to a "castle in the air."

The journey has been long and hard. I have trudged through cities, villages, towns. There seems to be no place for me. My feet keep moving and moving. Here a place there a place and then over there a place. Wandering and wandering and wandering. Forever wandering. I light my lantern and continue on. Continue on my journey. To where? I couldn't give you precise details. I let my imagination take me on the journey. Why let my weary imagination lead the way? You sure ask huge handfuls of elaborate questions. But I will answer you anyway. My feet are exhausted and my heart is barely mendable so I follow the vast ocean of visions and utopian dreams my mind draws into focus.

Castles standing tall in the air amidst peach and nectarine trees and wild flowers. Wild flowers as far as the eye can see. As you journey into the castle a friendly jester greets you by doffing his hat that extends to the roof. He holds out his hand and you open your mouth in awe. But I will save it for another time. The complete story will be told at a later date. I need to stop daydreaming and get on the road. Get on with my journey. Stop distracting me with your curious questions. I must go. Good day to you and remember to keep your lantern lit. Sometimes the path on your journey can be dim.

To order a copy for yourself, you can send a letter and a donation of cash or stamps to:
Communicating Vessels
Post Office Box 83408
Portland, Oregon 97283

Against Book Breaking

After posting about it yesterday, I thought today might be a good time to talk about where I first saw Grandville's Laurel, and the artistic conundrum it always reminds me of.

When I was 16, I caught my first glimpse into Grandville's world. I was given his Laurel as a gift. It was a plate from an antique edition of Les Fleurs Animees, and I've always cherished it. I still see it every day, too, framed and on my mantelpiece at home.

It was only later on, in botany school, when I discovered that the Laurel was part of a larger collection of images, that my real love for Grandville's caricatures was awakened. My discovery had a dark side, too, because I also realized that my plate had once been in a book that was now, obviously, in pieces.

Just as the botanist is prone to plucking flowers from their natural habitat and flattening them into albums, we as artists have the same opportunity to rend the beautiful works of others and use the gleanings to our own ends.

Castle in the Air offers classes on altered book techniques, but when I've taken the classes I've always been the oddball using a newly purchased blank book. I've never been able to bring myself to break or modify an existing book with another artist's text and pictures.

By the same token, Castle in the Air sells our "Vintage Ephemera Packs" stuffed with trimmings from yesteryear's books and magazines. I have to say that for the record, none of the elements in the ephemera packs we've sold have been broken from their original source by us at the store. The pieces are brought in by collectors or found already disassembled at sales and flea markets.

For many people, old books are talismanic objects with their own inherent power. The act of dissecting the book and using authentic vintage pieces is thought to put some of that power into a new piece of art. It's a potent process even if you don't believe in magic, because what's happening is a real transformation. A more or less "original" source is destroyed, and what comes from it is a new statement from a contemporary artist. I won't stand in the way of anyone who wants to break books to get at that power, but I can't bring myself to do it.

My hope for all artists who work in collage and reinterpretations of vintage publications is that they take time to consider the effects of their actions, and consciously decide what is best. An antique book is a treasure unto itself, and even though Castle in the Air could make more money selling individual plates cut from a vintage art book, we would much rather keep the book intact to sell as is, or better yet, to add to our store collection, where choice images can be reproduced using modern methods. I've scanned the Grandville images I'm sharing with you using a computer. The same computer can allow me to recreate an almost perfect replica of the artistic plate from my copy of Les Fleurs Animees, one that I can cut and paste to my heart's content -- and probably on better paper to boot. To me, none of Grandville's magic is lost in this process. In fact, you could say that the magic is enhanced, because the image is now incorporated into something new that might turn on a new person to Grandville's work, and the original remains for those who want to experience the power that it has in itself.

As artists we live in and through our imaginations. Can you imagine a world where the beautiful original works that inspired us in the first place have all been destroyed?

"Yes, Please!"

I posted last week about my dalliances with the potent drug coffee, but despite our espresso machine at Castle in the Air we owe just as much inspiration and productivity to the brewed leaf as we do the stewed bean.

Mr. Marsh always makes sure the teakettle gets on in time for 4 o'clock, and if any of us wander past his desk while the leaves are steeping, we can sing along with the daily screening of the ode by Professor Elemental, our tea-time hero.

My girls have discovered the joys of tea-time, too, and cheer for their afternoon cup. (I don't think they've seen the video yet, though!)

Step Back

Any painter can tell you that part of the work is stepping back once in a while to look at the picture as a whole. If you stay too close to the canvas, all you see are details.

Amidst all the other projects at the store, we're preparing the relaunch of the Dromedary Press website. Collecting images of the various books and cards, along with concise descriptions of each, reminded me of the importance of stepping back and taking stock of one's work as an artist. What is the picture saying as a whole? Some projects come together quickly, others are chipped away at over the years as time and inspiration present themselves. An occasional step back to take in the bigger picture shows us what we're really working on, whether we knew it or not, and gives us a sense of the worlds we're creating as artists.

Slaying the Dragons

"Saint Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle,
be our protection
against the malice
and snares of the devil."
-- Pope Leo XIII

Last summer was particularly hard for me, with many family and other personal issues coming to a head at the same time. I've always relied on art as my shield against the "malice and snares," no matter in what form they arrived. But when things got too tough, I realized that art by itself wasn't going to cut it. I needed some armor.

George the Dragonslayer is the patron saint for my family and for Castle in the Air, vanquishing fear with his decisive sword. Even though I was a fearsome fencer in college, these days I've dropped my sword in favor of my paintbrush, or perhaps...magic markers? Trying times call for a bit of magic, no?

Inspired by George's heavenly counterpart, the Archangel Michael, I took up my markers and forged some divine armor from a dress. The magic flowed into my new linen hauberk, with wraparound Dragonslaying heraldry! As soon as I put on the dress I knew I'd have the strength to face the world again. It's come in handy a few times since last summer, too!

Starting from Scratch

When I first opened my store, I made a real effort to make it a place for artists who didn't want to be boxed in. I sold art supplies, but I didn't carry any finished products made from them. I was busy defining myself as a person and as an artist, and I wanted to leave other people the freedom to do the same thing for themselves.

It didn't take long before I realized that people don't mind a little nudge when it comes to what to do with a blank canvas. Like any artist, I'm often intimidated by all the possibilities that could come from the raw materials of the artistic life. The artists who visit Castle in the Air are no exception. We all need inspiration when our own wellspring isn't flowing as fast as we'd like. So, bit by bit, the store became a place where artists were free to pick up their art supplies and as much or as little direction as to what to do with them. Some people take our classes to make an amazing creation just like the sample they see in the display case, others are happy to pick up some new techniques and take it from there with their own ideas. Everyone comes to Castle in the Air with a different idea of what they want to take away, and I don't think many people go away disappointed.

Downstairs the busy shop is filled with people and papers and pens and books and inks and paints and dolls and decorations and baubles and blotters and whatsits. Upstairs it's empty. I like it. It feels like the right time for a blank canvas, a new start. These white walls are a place to dream. They hold the potential for all kinds of new inspiration. We know a little bit about how we want to continue, to make our loft into something new, but nothing's yet set in stone. Whatever happens with these walls, it will speak to the imagination in each of us, about our work and our lives as artists. It will be its own creation, and just as it was when the store first began, this is another chance to start afresh.

Maggie's Marvels

A white rabbit popped by the store today and reminded us that Castle in the Air's very own Maggie Wihnyk is having her first open studio this weekend and next!

Maggie's just opened a studio in West Berkeley's historic Sawtooth Building, where she creates jewelry from beads, old and new silver, copper, and other whatnots, including watch fobs (which the white rabbit said were his favorites).

Her show is part of the East Bay Open Studios festival sponsored by Pro Arts. All this weekend and next, artists will open their workshop doors to the curious public. Take in a studio or two if you're in the East Bay. It's a great way to see all the art that's going on right in our own backyard.

Maggie Wihnyk
East Bay Open Studios
Sawtooth Building
2547 8th Street, Studio 24B
Berkeley
June 6 - 7 and 13 - 14
11 am - 6 pm

Sketches at the Gates of Slumber

Not long ago I was talking with my dear friend Laurey about the frustration I feel from not being able to fit in making art with all the other things going on in my life. She told me about how she sketches every night just before bed. She's been doing it since finishing art school years ago, and says that she loves having the habit. It's sometimes the only art she's able to fit into her life as a busy mother, but it's something every day, which is so important.

I started the practice myself, and I find it to be really satisfying. Each night I take just enough time to make something before drifting off into dreamland. It's productive, too -- in fact, all the drawings for my next book, Commonplace Mouse, started as bedtime sketches. Thank you, Laurey!

Painting with Dad

For Christmas, I gave my dad a gift that he and I could enjoy for years to come -- my personal set of watercolors, some brushes, and a promise to teach him how to use them. I'd given him some leather-bound journals with Arches paper a while back, and once he had the paint set and some Winsor & Newton Series 7 brushes he had all he needed to get started. We're beginning with some color gradients and other technique exercises.

It's really been a treat to revisit an old skill and take it from the beginning again. Teaching my dad watercolor gives me a chance to see the art not only through the eyes of the teacher, but also through the eyes of the new artist. Surprisingly, it's the latter perspective that helps me to see new possibilities in painting. In learning any kind of art, one of the challenges is retaining openness and vulnerability, remaining humble before our own aptitude and the nature of the medium we're working with. All of this is to say that even in the short time I've been painting with my dad, I see that somewhere over the past 25 years my skill surpassed that necessary humility. So I'm learning too, and as he and I bond over this holiday gift it's been a bit of a present to myself as well.

Yesterday we took the Castle in the Air spring class mailer to press, and if you're on the mailing list you can expect it in your mailbox within a few weeks. I'll be co-teaching some painting classes, and of course we'll have dozens of other courses in a variety of arts, all taught by the best instructors. I hope to see you in the studio!