Past Member Spotlight
| We begin a new series of spotlight interviews featuring PSBA members. To kick off the first spotlight, we talked to Sally Alger, our outgoing board president. Sally and Diane Miller met in a noisy cafe in mid-December to talk about books, the role art has played in her life, and of course, PSBA. —Diane |
Q: How did you discover book arts?
In 1968, Dave and I, newlyweds and fresh out of college, moved to Chicago where he was studying for the ministry. As you can imagine this was a watershed period in our personal history as well as the country’s. Chicago was my first experience where I felt art was all around me.
I worked as a librarian in the Lincoln Park Library, part of the Chicago Public Library system. I was responsible for Children’s Books as well as the art displays. I think that’s where I began my own art practice, with Nicolaides’ The Natural Way to Draw.
Book arts came a little later but I could see what I was drawn to in children’s books like Where the Wild Things Are and my favorite, Rain Makes Applesauce.
Q: Tell us about a book that has special meaning to you. I was intrigued by the story of the WWI Royal Navy ploy to paint the ships in bizarre abstract stripes and swirls, which served to distract the enemy who couldn’t figure out the size or direction of the ships because of the graphics. This tactic was influenced by the artist Georges Braque. I was so taken with this story I made an artist book for one of our members’ exhibits. The photo above is a Dazzle ship and on the left is my interpretation. Q: Who are the artists who influenced your work? Paul Klee, Georges Seurat to start. I’m drawn to the art of the Southwest like Jim Waid’s work, and I love Native American art—in particular, Navajo artist, Emmi Whitehorse. I just completed a book I’ve been working on for awhile based on a Navajo prayer. Closer to home I’ve been inspired, influenced and helped by our own PSBA artists, in particular Deborah Greenwood, Lucia Harrison and Dorothy McCuistion. Q: Well, speaking of PSBA, how did you come to join? It began with a yoga class acquaintanceship with Dorothy McCuistion. We chatted, the way people do, and she invited me to some Tacoma events and then to a PSBA |
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exhibition. I was hooked. I joined in 2014, back when the annual meetings were in person. After awhile I volunteered to be on the curatorial committee, and then I did it again and again. Eventually I joined the board. I continue to be impressed with the creativity of our members, but also how generous people are in helping those who are just beginning their art practice. Thank you, Dorothy.
Q: Tell us about your workspace.
My space is very simple. The studio is a 10’ x 10’ bedroom with one large table and one small table. There’s no complicated equipment. I do have a 1’ x 1’ handmade paper press. The workspace in our home in Arizona is a bit smaller because it also serves as a guest room with a Murphy bed.
Q: This might be the time to ask you if you have a work motto, because we had a good chat about this.
Limitations free you up! And this is not just in making art.
Q: Describe your perfect day.
It begins with coffee. Yes! And then a walk. When I return home I begin my art practice, which ideally lasts about three hours. In the afternoon I read, and then in the evening relax—either staying home or seeing friends. This is my ordinary day and my perfect day—back to limitations being freeing.
Q: What is your next project?
Immediately, I’m working on some postcards. In the back of my mind I’m thinking about the theme for next year’s exhibit, “Field Work.” I’m quite excited about this theme; it seems very accessible. Starting this month, I’ll be chairing the Program Committee and I’m really looking forward to that.
Q: Lastly, how will you appear in the next life?
As a playful sea otter.
| The second spotlight in our series shines on Belinda Hill, PSBA’s current president. I got to know Belinda through our monthly Olympia Meet-ups. Belinda is the ultimate student and teacher—always learning something new and then jumping in to share what she’s learned. —Diane |
Q: How did you discover book arts?
It’s been a circuitous route, to say the least. I ended up earning degrees in very diverse fields, beginning with a B.S. in agriculture and eventually a PhD in computer education. But I started out studying art in college. This was the same time I became a Baha’i, and from the spiritual teachings, I knew I wanted to do something that served humanity. As a naive 18-year-old, I didn’t see how art did that.
Art and crafts were a part of my childhood. I did crafts with my grandmother, who was always knit-ting or quilting. As a child, I did drawing and water- colors, and that’s why I wanted to study art. It sounds like computer work is very different from art, but it’s really not. There’s always the opportunity to be creative. And that’s what I taught in the classroom—how to inspire creativity.
While I was at St. Martin’s College, I also taught the Arts and Movement class, where I worked to inspire student teachers to see the importance of integrating the Arts into their lesson plans. Book Arts popped up in children’s literature; I didn’t want my students to ask their children to write a book report, but to create a mini-book about what they just read. I didn’t know it was Book Arts then, but it was.
Q: Can you name some people who have influenced your work?
I had to think about this for a bit, and then it came to me—Friedrich Frobel. The book Inventing Kindergarten describes his innovative educational theory, which built on first teaching young children art and design, and academic subjects later. He was a naturalist whose insights eventually evolved into the Frobel Kindergarten movement. Frobel’s work influenced people like Frank Lloyd Wright, Paul Klee, Piet Mondrian, and other Bauhaus artists. After studying his theories, you can see his ideas in the work of these artists.
Frobel called the skills he taught “gifts,” encouraging students to make connections with what they’ve learned. This is the intersection between art and education that is so important to me.
Another favorite artist is my daughter. And I wonder if growing up in a household where art was supported from early childhood molded or strengthened her creativity.
Q: Tell us about a book that has special meaning to you. Woman Life Freedom is a tribute to the women in Iran. I made this book in response to the PSBA Collaboration theme in 2023. A Persian poet friend helped me find the women poets and the translations. The book is in both Farsi and English. You can see pictures of Woman Life Freedom at tinyurl.com/48ua6p3e. Q: Well, speaking of PSBA, how did you come to join? A colleague from St. Martin’s told me about a book arts exhibit at the University of Puget Sound. My first reaction? How did I never know about this before? In my own art practice, I had been working in mixed media and weaving. I saw Book Arts as a way to pull all that together. The reason I joined PSBA that first year was Collette Fu, who does the giant pop-ups. I wanted to take her workshop, and since members had first choice, I became a member. For the first few years, I wasn’t active, but I did enter a book in each year’s exhibition. Q: Tell us about your workspace. It’s still a work in progress since I’m moving from my home office to my studio. Most of the equipment I have is recycled. From State Surplus, I have a really good paper cutter, AV rolling carts, and tables that are height-adjusted with a crank. There’s a large book press mounted on a rolling cart that someone gave my husband; we obtained someone’s custom cabinets from Habitat for Humanity that fit perfectly along two walls, and now I have room for my large collection of paper. When it’s time for print making, I move things to the laundry room, or in the summer, I move things outside to the patio. Q: This might be the time to ask you if you have a work motto. This is what I picked up in our conversation: Just try it! |
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Yeah, Just try it works. This Baha’i teaching resonates: “Service to humanity is worship.” I want to encourage this positive, creative, energy especially at this time when there’s a lot of negative energy around. Whatever we can do to help people find this, I want to be part of.
I once had an avatar who held a question mark in one hand and a book in the other. “Ask questions” could be another motto.
Q: What is your next project?
I’m teaching Chinese Thread Books (also called Treasure Books). These are books with little pockets. I did a lot of experimenting with paper, folds, and glues. If I’m attracted to something, I learn about it, perfect it, and then teach. This spring I taught this at Community Print in Olympia and at Newport’s Paper and Book Festival. I want to help people be creative and this process works for me.
Q: Describe your perfect day.
I like being who I am, I like my age, my knowledge, my skills. So any day is my perfect day. We live on a hilltop in the woods and each morning I see the sun come through the fog opening up all sort of possibilities.
Q: Any last words?
I joined PSBA because there was a workshop I really wanted to take. Since then I have continued to benefit from both the opportunities and challenges that are offered to members. Among the opportunities are working with other members of the organization. I learned so much and gained new friends from work-ing on the exhibition committee for two years. Now as president I get to benefit further from getting to know and work with many of you.
I guess I have another motto: Challenge Yourself!
| The third spotlight in our series of interviews is with LeeAnne Campos, who has quite some experience with the spotlight. At the age of seven she played the role of a Siamese boy in a professional production of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s “The King and I” in Munich, Germany. And she has been engaged in the arts ever since. On a warm early spring afternoon, we met in her music studio at Pacific Lutheran University where she teaches voice. —Diane Miller |
Q: How did you discover book arts?
My first book was made out of foam core and acrylic paint. I cut figures of pine trees, and painted snow on them. It was a Christmas card for my soon to be husband. That was in the ‘80s and I didn’t do anything in that style of art for a long time. I thought I needed someone to show me how. Then in 2016 I started going to Becky Frehse’s class and that’s really where it all came together.
I’ve been dabbling with art since grade school. With book arts I’m able to incorporate all the things I’m interested in like calligraphy or painting. Not so long ago I thought I’d never be a painter and then I started painting so it could be part of a book.
Q: Tell us who has influenced your own artist books.
Becky’s class was the beginning for me and my first reaction was: why didn’t I know about this before? Becky has been a model as an artist and as a guide in introducing me to so many different styles. I’ve been attending every Thursday from 9:30 to11:30 for nine years now.
Another artist whose works inspire me is Suzanne Moore—I love her color and calligraphy. Her work is remarkable, almost intimidating—she’s done what I wish I could do.
My long creative journey has been inspired by music and art teachers, and multiple classical composers, including Gershwin, Puccini, and Brahms. My undergraduate voice teacher at PLU, Barbara Poulshock, was a mentor and wonderful friend. She wrote a series of songs using Emily Dickinson’s poems, and dedicated
“Some Keep the Sabbath Going to Church” to me. I’ve made several books using that poem.
Q: Well, speaking of PSBA, how did you come to join?
Becky pointed the way and I stumbled in. PSBA expanded my view to the possibilities of what a book can be. The people in PSBA are so creative, intelligent, informed and generous.
Q: Tell us about a book that has special meaning to you.
The book I entered into this year’s exhibition TRABAJAR LOS CAMPOS (to work in the fields) has a lot of meaning for me. I learned a part of history
I didn’t know anything about. In 1942, a deal was signed by Mexico and the United States to alleviate the labor shortage in the U.S. during WWII; the agreement created the Bracero program. Bracero means “one who works with his arms” or field hand.
In my book, the hands, green and brown, are rough from harvesting. The coarse twine binds vegetables, fruits, and this book. Gray, homesick figures toil from south to north; jolly tiles evoke the colors of home and family.
Q: Tell us about your workspace—where you make your books.
I always have a mess on the dining room table! There’s always a project in some stage of completion. It’s always been like this for me. And I store my supplies and works-in-progress in an old dresser next to the table, and an old silver cabinet.
Q: After all the work you’ve shown me, I see you are a musician, a painter, a book artist, a potter—so, now what is your next project?
I’ve gotten into negative painting. It’s the coolest darn thing—it’s where you take a piece of paper and you draw a background or surroundings of an object, leaving the object itself as a lighter or brighter area. The cover of TRABAJAR LOS CAMPOS is negative painting.
Just a few months ago I tried my friend’s pottery wheel. I had no clue how difficult it was.
I think my next project begins with tubs of F. Carlton Ball pottery beads a friend gave me. There are hundreds and hundreds of beads. My challenge is to figure out how to make them into a book.
Q: If you could invite five people to dinner—from the present or the past—who would they be?
I had to think about this for a bit and then decided to divide the men and women because the conversation would be so different. The women’s table: Emily Dickinson (of course), Pauline Viardot, Clara Schumann, Elly Ameling, and Jane Austen. The men’s table: Arthur Yenk (my grandfather), George Gershwin, Francis Poulenc, Ralph Vaughan Williams and Claude Monet. I’d love to hear a conversation with my grandfather, who was also a com-poser, and George Gershwin.
Q: Given the list of people at your dinner table, tell us how music fits in your life?
It’s a very important component of my life especially my work with the Bremerton Symphony Chorale. I’ve been its music director for 21 years. I prepare the singers for stand-alone performances, and concerts with the Bremerton WestSound Symphony. The works have included Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, the Mozart Requiem, and the Poulenc “Gloria”, which I conducted with orchestra at our 2024 Christmas concert.
Q: Describe your perfect day.
Gardening with my children. Yesterday we went to the garden shop and spent over two hours just walking around, looking and picking out plants. We came home to plant the veggies—we’re going to be urban farmers.
Q: This might be the time to ask you if you have a work motto.
From Emily Dickinson “I’m going all along…”
 | The fourth in our series of member profiles is Carrie Larson. Carrie and I are members of PSBA’s Olympia MeetU and we served on the 2024 Curatorial Team. I’m drawn to her work because she brings together a strong emotional story with a sense of place. —Diane Miller
A sense of place is often at the root of my art-making—even in its most abstracted forms. A particular piece may suggest the natural beauty of the physical landscape, sourced from the reflections found in rivers and puddles to the patterning of light and shadow under the forest canopy. Another work might build from an emotional place—grief, fury, longing, joy—and pull the viewer in to share that experience. I edit down to essences and sensations, evoking a poetry of sorts, wanting the viewer to connect with these “places” in some meaningful, resonant way… I invite the viewer to a quiet intimacy. Artist Statement from Carrie’s Website |
Q: Where or how did book arts become part of your art practice?
I went to Whitman and had an amazing professor, Keiko Hara. Their book arts program was just getting started. I had always loved art and writing. And here was this medium that combined the two, where the concept or the idea was the driver. My visual practice involves other things, but it’s book arts that I see as the foundation for everything else.
Keiko was a mentor and a role model. She is the one who opened the world of book arts for me. In my junior year, I was one of three students who spent the summer with her in her home studio work-ing on a printmaking project on shoji screens. It was that immersion, living with that kind of discipline that became the foundation of how I wanted to work.
Q: Do you remember your first book?
I do. My third-grade teacher had us write poems and illustrate them. She assembled them into books using a Japanese stab binding.
But, my first book in college was a piece that involved writing, layered colors and wax drippings. In binding it, I stitched it shut so the personal stayed private. I think I still have it. I love this about book arts, where the viewer can either work to find the full story or can view the book just as an art object.
Q: How did you develop as an artist? And how do you work now?
After college, I fell into a job at an architectural firm, which was great in terms of understanding three-dimensional space and color scheme work. I also learned a little bit about succeeding as a small business (applied this to survival as a working artist). I did that for about five years and realized I couldn’t maintain an art practice and a full-time job.
The job gave me the skills where I could put together gigs to help pay the bills and still have the large blocks of time dedicated to my art practice.
Now I have more time and my studio. It’s an attic space with skylights, but it’s tiny, so I always spill out to the rest of the house. At the beginning of a project, there’s usually the deep dive, but after that, I can work on components.
Q: I’m so impressed with your permanent installation, “Vital Flow” at Grays Harbor College. How did something like that come about?
I’ve had solo exhibitions and have submitted work for juried exhibitions, so I’ve become familiar with the application processes. In this case, there was a call for a piece that would speak to the identity of Grays Harbor and Pacific County. I did a lot of research, both historical and geological. “Vital Flow” feels like a culmination of things that I’ve learned or felt, or experienced. It felt like I’m bringing everything of myself,
of what I’ve learned over the years, to this. It also left me feeling a little adrift afterwards, kind of okay, now what?
| Q: What is the book you would want our PSBA members to know about, to know your work? “Vital Flow” is at one end of the spectrum, and at the other end is the book that was my first mature book as an artist. At my first residency at Hypatia-in-the-Woods, I was reading different things and worked on a poem in response to Angela Carter’s retelling of the Little Red Riding Hood story from a feminist perspective. I letterpress printed the poem and layered the colors and stitching. My feeling was this is my first book as an emerging artist. Eventually, I gifted it to Whitman College, feeling this should go back to where I learned how to do this. |
Q: Who are the artists whose work you’re drawn to?
I really like the color field artists like Marc Rothko and Helen Frankenthaler. That use of color is astonishing to me; I’m drawn to abstract work generally. Last year we went to Houston to see the dedicated Rothko collection and it felt like being in sacred space.
Q: What’s your next project?
Still in very early stages—the title is “Weathering,” and it has to do with the different types of weather and resilience. I’d like to do some of the images in cutouts. I love the shadow play effect.I’m thinking about creating it as a scroll. It’ll be my work-in-progress update for the Olympia MeetUp group.
Q: As an artist in a small town, what is your social support?
This is why PSBA has been so good for me. When the meetups first started, I knew I needed to make the effort to make the drive because I don’t really have a local artistic network. There’s a growing arts community that has gotten more vibrant, but during my early years in Hoquiam, I felt I was in my own little solitary space. That might have been good for developing my own vocabulary as an artist, but still pretty isolating.
Q: That brings us to PSBA, can you say something about your connection?
Lifeline is a strong term, but PSBA is my connection to people who are also passionate about this form.
I know we’re kindred spirits. PSBA has been wonderful for me. I love the lunchtime lectures, where in one hour we get to see what’s possible. In the workshops, you experience such generosity—the preparation time, materials, organization, presentation style that works for different styles of learning, and then the workshop leaders being available to help
| In our series of member profiles, August spotlights Mark Hoppmann. Mark graciously invited me to his studio, which was the perfect place to be introduced to him and his artistic journey. The studio is his own Tardis[1], storing his artistic travels through time and space. I highly recommend visiting during the next Tacoma Studio Tour. —Diane Miller With regard to book arts, his intent is: “…to design illustrated books for those ‘with satiable curiosity.’” |
Q: Hearing you describe your experience of growing up on a Nebraska wheat farm and attending school in a one-room schoolhouse was a surprising beginning for an artist. Can you describe those early years as an artist?
My favorite day was Friday, when we spent the last hour of the day making any kind of art we wanted in that little schoolhouse. My mother bought me an easel and my first set of oils when I was nine. She made sure we had books in the house. That may be where I fell in love with books.
In my sophomore year, I had a scholarship to an art camp at the University of Kansas—that was the tipping point, that was when I knew this is what I wanted to do. In high school, I spent study hall each day, painting in the school art studio. At age 16, I sold my first painting.
When it was time for college, I chose Drake University because they had a Year in Florence program, and I knew that was what I wanted. My parents were supportive, but they couldn’t take time off from the farm, so I had to make my way on my own to Des Moines. First time I was in an area large enough to have stoplights. In my study year abroad, Florence was my home base. With a trusty Eurail pass, I traveled every weekend—Paris, Rome, Amsterdam, and Innsbruck for the Olympics.
Q: Do you have a favorite book?
I do, it’s my go-to book—My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok. I met someone in a framing shop who gave me a copy. A copy sits next to my work area ever since. That book was my only artistic support for years until I started doing the Western Art Show circuit, and I found my art community for the first time.
Being interested in traditional books as well as artist books, I’m an active member of the Book Club of Washington (BCW) and a sometime contributor to their biannual publication, The Journal.
Q: And where does PSBA come into the story?
When I did my first artist book of Wallace Stevens’ Thirteen Ways of Looking at a BlackBird, I discovered the book arts. After receiving a Tacoma Artists Initiative Program (TAIP) grant from the city of Tacoma, I met Jane Carlin and joined PSBA. The community was there, so I joined the board, I volunteered to manage the website, and I eventually became president of the Board for three or four years. Soon, most of my time was taken up with PSBA—working the calendar, special projects, and general admin work.
But by the time the pandemic hit, I was ready to pull back from the administrative side of PSBA and return to my own artwork. I had also just finished a three-month residency at Charles Wright Academy.
Q: We have to say something about your home studio because it is so amazing. For the last quarter century, this is where my art happens—everything I need is right here—the work table, the library, the archive, along with the matting and framing space. Everything I need is here, and everything has its place, or else the studio wouldn’t work; there’s too much in here. When I’m working, I can work straight through without a break, sometimes starting at five in the morning. For a watercolor project, I’d have it painted, matted, and framed by the end of the day. I used to know what I was going to do when I entered the studio, now I have more chores and more interruptions, so it’s not as production-oriented as it used to be. Q: Tell us about one book you made here. |
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Many PSBA members have seen this book, The Imaginarium. (Turning pages) Here are the bubbles traveling through time forward and backwards. One is about evolution—here’s a page of life emerging from the sea, traversing time and space. It moves from the sea to the ravens in the sky. We found this piece of driftwood on Cannon Beach that looked like someone meditating, and that was the inspiration for the source of the bubbles. I asked my then-six-year-old daughter to model for the little girl sitting and blowing bubbles. |
| The challenge is always how to take the idea and make it work. Going from concept to finished piece has many iterations. Each book has many layers, physically layering as well as intellectually layering the stories. Many of my books, drawings, or sketches have a double meaning. Or perhaps I see something that is considered common and translate it into something else, the way I did in Metamorphosis and in Rhythms of the Northwest. Q: Can you tell us how your work is changing? Right now, I am not sure it’s actually changing, except that I am more comfortable with working in sketchbooks made of brown wrapping paper and working with a ballpoint pen instead of fine artist paper and a dip pen with India ink, color pencil, or graphite. There’s something quite satisfying with this new process. |
I like looking at a piece and seeing the raw energy. In Metamorphosis, I was inspired by the look of the reclaimed tidal floods with the shrubs and trees coming up from the mud, covered by seaweed and barnacles. They would look like figures, figures I saw as shamans—that’s what this whole book is about. The book is a double entendre. On one side, it’s about the metamorphosis of the Nisqually Delta, and on the other, it’s a play on Kafka’s work. In Northwest Rhythms, I saw the waterfront pilings as a piano keyboard. These are the original sketches, and then here’s the finished book with the natural notes as the white keys and black as sharps and flats. Currently, I am working on an artist’s book chronicling the journey from the early sketches of the pilings and ending with a finished alphabet inspired by them. I incorporate my drawings into all of my artist’s books, so I have an affinity toward sketches. Many of my sketchbooks are really artists’ books in themselves. They’re thematic—sometimes they are the blueprints for a larger piece, and sometimes they stand alone as finished works. As you can see, I have four typewriters. Someday, I’m going to write a book in code with the Russian one. I often try to incorporate pieces from my collections into my finished work, either as tools or in the finished work itself—like the 1909 Fulton Price and Marker font, or a 100-year-old typewriter. There are lots of projects and many more art pieces waiting to happen here.
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| On the way to Chimacum, in search of the best apple pie,[1] I stopped in Quilcene to meet with Peter and his wife, Robyn. They are art collectors and art makers. We spent a lovely summer morning tracing their meandering paths to book arts. It felt like a private gallery tour combined with an open case. Fortunately, my iPhone handled the note-taking while I feasted on the artists’ books from their collection. Peter’s story is September’s Spotlight. —Diane Miller |
Q: Peter, can you give us some of the highlights of your path toward book arts?
In 1967, after graduating from Whitman in Walla Walla, WA, I traveled east, first to perform with the Dartmouth Summer Rep and then on to NYU for my MFA in Theatrical Management. Since then, I’ve thought of myself as a producer.
Following graduate school and my Army service in Vietnam, there were numerous career roles. My theatrical training has manifested in many of them. In 1972, I joined the construction business my grandfather established in 1944, and which the fourth generation in America now runs. In 1985, on April Fool’s Day, I struck out on my own by establishing Hill Street Investment, specializing in real estate development. I served two terms as an elected commissioner of the Snohomish County PUD and on the Washington State Arts Commission. I have always been involved in the arts.
In 1992, I met Robyn, who, as Gallery Director of the Snohomish County Arts Council, was staging an invitational woodcarving show that included my Legends of the Forest Carousel featuring five James Toner hand-carved PNW animals. The carousel is hand cranked and has appeared at charity events, schools, and private parties throughout the Northwest for the past three decades. Before the cranking starts, the children are asked to make the sound of the animal they are riding. Pure theater!
During my time as a PUD Commissioner, our headquarters building was doubled in size. With my construction background, I was involved with the design and construction, which included a 165-seat, fully equipped theater/auditorium for staff training, school programming, and community group use. To open the new building, I was the executive producer of an original, award-winning educational stage show called The Electric Circus. We bused in over 3000 elementary school kids to see the show and provided teacher packets and student workbooks. In 1999, I curated The Art of Puppetry exhibit. That show holds the record for the most well-attended art exhibit in Snohomish County history.
My Everett office included a large conference space for community gatherings, conversations, and art shows. My introduction to Artists’ Books was a collaboration with Robyn, creating five boxed portfolios for an exhibit by James L. Davis. As we met more book artists and attended exhibits, we began incorporating the book arts into our community work.
All the projects and artists’ books we’ve made over the years have been collaborations. First, we started collecting, and then said to ourselves this is something we might do someday. Our first book, similar to a Little Golden Book, was used in a campaign to purchase new equipment for three playgrounds in Everett. It turned out fundraising can be fun! There were a lot of people involved in the production. Inside Chance by Linda Smith was one of the first artist books we collected. We also used it for fundraising. It remains a favorite.
In 1999, the Puppeteers of America festival celebrating the millennium was on the UW campus, and I was able to pull together an exhibit featuring the Mantell Manikins, whose first performance was in 1902 at Everett’s Central Theater.
Q. When did you start making books? And then how did you connect with PSBA? After we left the Everett area, we lived in Seattle while we were building the house on Tarboo Bay near Quilcene. We joined BAG (Book Arts Guild) and found our kindred book spirits. By happenstance, we were visiting the Collins library at the University of Puget Sound during an exhibit. And it was a fit for us. What I like best about the design of PSBA is the openness to exhibiting the work of all its members—if you are a member who makes a book and submits it, it will be shown during the exhibition. They won’t say “your book isn’t good enough.” That may be the reason that the exhibit gets better and better. The first book I made on my own was called Moonlight Circus. Puppetry and circuses have been a lifelong interest, going back to kindergarten. The inspiration for the book came from a quick glance at three circus leads I had set up. I noticed that when the light was just right, they became shadow figures on the wall. The book was a limited edition. Seven deluxe versions contain three actual figures. The book was in the 2012 exhibit. I think it’s great that PSBA encourages the field and offers to teach newcomers. |
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| Q: Is there one book you want to share with us? There are two books closest to my heart and closest to who I am. They’re a tribute to my time in Vietnam. Bui-Doi roughly translates to “street children." In the musical Miss Saigon, they are referred to as the dust of life. I spent a lot of time with the kids whose photographs are in this book. Our commanding officers let us help in the orphanages. Because of my carpentry skills, I helped build a roof over the cooking area. The photos were taken with a camera I bought at the PX, shot in black and white, and developed in situ. At Long Binh, each soldier was issued an M-16, ammo, a flak jacket, and a helmet. We took our turns at guard duty behind multiple fences and acres of razor wire. That said, the only things I ever shot were pictures. The negatives and slides sat in a box in the attic for 40 years before I was encouraged to use them to tell the story, and then the words poured out of me in a single day. It was an open edition that I gave away to veterans and is held in numerous special collections. |
I also did this series of postcards, Did You See What I Saw, with cryptic captions like, You never get a second chance to make a first impression. The collection is housed in a facsimile army dress pocket sewn from custom Cave Paper in an edition of 13 for the number of months I spent in country. The event that got this rolling was the tourism industry's PR, selling a Vietnam experience. Not my experience. It made me angry. Robyn speaking about this book: It was important for him to do this work; it wasn’t a closure, but it was a movement in the letting go of that time. This was an illuminating way to be creative in a socially relevant way—both as commentary and witnessing. Q: What are you working on now? I have three ideas on the drawing board. Amulets from My Jewel Box is about the little tchotchkes that I’ve saved since high school. I want to write a short paragraph about each and then build a book that would also hold the pieces. Another long-standing idea for a book is Where’s Clifford? —a story investigating my maternal grandfather, whom I’ve never met. My grandmother always said he ran away with the circus. I’ve researched this guy to the ends of the earth. There’s not enough evidence to prove he did. I want it to be true, but it might have to be partly fictional. The third idea I’m working on is about the environmental degradation of the Columbia River with illustrations from my postcard collection. My time as a PUD Commissioner brought many of those issues front and center. The working title is Seven Ways to Kill a Fish and includes some commentary on corporate greed and environmental insensitivity. Q: When you’re working on something, how do you imagine a perfect day? Don’t think there’s any such thing. The process starts with a lot of questions. I like it when you get to the stage where you can lay out all the pieces and let your mind wander and see how they get pulled together. Robyn: We learned a lot from our improv classes, and these amazing things just spring out of you. You start with a pose, the second person joins in, and the third person completes the movement. It’s the idea, the process, and the resolution, but at the beginning, it’s a blank slate. And so often funny, because it’s unexpected! Q: What do you collect besides books? Puppets, postcards, circus leads, books about puppets, and art. And artists' books, of course. We designed our house to display all these loves. Q: If you’re giving a dinner party and you could include anyone from any time or place—who would you invite? Emily Dickinson (Robyn is a Dickinson scholar), Barack Obama, Jack Freimann (mentor from Whitman), Mary Tyler Moore, Bob Fosse, and Gwen Verdon. Can you imagine Bob Fosse and Emily Dickinson together? Q: Any closing thoughts or advice? 1. Avoid the trap of thinking your next project must be something better than the previous one. 2. Creativity is about play—even approaching dangerous subjects as play. 3. Free yourself or unfreeze yourself to make new associations.
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Anna in the Arctic | Fall was already revealing itself in early September, when Anna and I met at Finnriver Farm and Cidery in Port Townsend. Anna is passionate about her work, and I think you’ll see that as she describes her inspiration, her creative process, and the sense of adventure she brings to book arts. Some of her work aims to make a subject graspable or understandable. And then there’s another side where she honors the unknown—an astronaut seeking out the creative process. She was one of this year’s award winners for her book Retreat, which portrays the otherworldly quality found in the Arctic. —Diane Miller |
How did you begin as an artist?
I was always drawing, and when I was thinking about college, I thought along the lines of illustration. Then I found graphic design. I didn’t realize at the time it was going to be a perfect fit for my brain because art is matched with both the analytical and functional application.
Book Arts—where does it fit in your career path?
One freshman requirement at Chapman University was a book arts class taught by Rachelle Chuang. It was so cool, novel, and special—the class really got me. I make a lot of things—I’m a compulsive maker, and books are the perfect melding of the things that attract me. I feel very lucky to have found it. That was my introduction; I hadn’t seen an artist's book before. Afterwards, in all my school projects, I then tried to figure out how I could make it into a book. I’m intrigued by the stretchiness of what a book can be.
I graduated from college in 2019, shortly before the world shut down. After a bit of time, I got remote graphic design work, very technical, precise, and heavily branded graphic design. I also love that kind of work—it scratches an itch—as a designer, you have to follow systems and rules. My next design job was completely opposite—very inventive, no rules. And then last year, I got my first artist residency, and it was in the Arctic.
Later, I thought, if I return and go back to work, I’m never going to make use of this experience in the creative way I want to. And so I quit. I gave myself six months to only do my own work. It was the first time I was being creative just for me.
I did the Seattle Book Arts Fair right before my trip, and I started to sell my work for the first time. And that’s been fun. After my six-month sabbatical, I’m now doing freelance work and working part-time in a gallery in Port Townsend, doing installation and odds and ends. And I’m trying to make a book a month. I still have time to make things.
I can’t let a residency in the Arctic Circle pass without asking you what it was like?
This was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I was on a boat with 28 other artists, cut off from the world. The things I’ve been attracted to my whole life were the north and south poles, outer space, and space travel. As a kid, I wanted to be an astronaut. The Arctic environment was as close as you can get to being on another planet. There’s nothing to give you a sense of scale or perspective. I had never experienced anything like that before.
When I returned, I thought about how I decide what things to make, how my brain works in what I make, how I focus. I really thought about my process for the first time because it had my full attention. It gave me the push to work on my own stuff.
Tell us about some of your work.
I’m not precious about my work; the books are all utilitarian in a way—no gloves necessary. Things are meant to be touched. Most of my books are educational or informational—it’s the graphic designer in me. Also, I put effort into the packaging for the same reason. I love a weird form, I love a weird box—the aha moment of figuring it out. And a lot of what I make is replicable.
I also love the research part of making a book, and some of them took a lot of research. It’s fun to pull in many processes and steps and bring them together into one thing.
Can you walk us through one special project?
My dad and I started on this metal puzzle box four years ago. When completed, my dad said, “No one’s going to know what to make of this thing,” and he’s been proven right. I wanted it to look like something that fell from space; it’s a little sputnik-y even though it’s inspired by the Apollo Missions. What was also exciting was researching that period of history and the technological development. Everything on this project is related to the real Apollo missions, so I had to make books to explain it all. And the format is inspired by the instructional manuals the crew took with them. When I started, I knew I had three criteria: 1. a puzzle box, 2. round, and 3. about space. I gave up completely at one point; I just didn’t think I could do it. Then I found Adam Savage’s Every Tool’s a Hammer and that did it. He wrote how he organizes his process, and I realized I just needed to think about my own differently. I had to finish it, and I did. I hope to make more puzzle boxes, and I have ideas, but they are a bit of a time sink. It was a much more experimental process than I’m used to, as well as much more blood, sweat, and tears. It took me a long time to picture it. See more at www.annaemoore.space/apollo-puzzle. |
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What’s your next project?
Well, the next thing I’m likely to finish, in my book of the month project, is an illustrated book about the 15 different species of bats in Washington. The plan is to have the book look like a silhouette of a bat in flight. I found a machine that’s like a laser cutter for paper at a garage sale, and so I’m hoping to use that to cut the shapes. The book is kind of an excuse to use the new toy.
How did you connect with PSBA?
When I lived in Seattle, I used to walk to the Ravenna Bookstore, and I passed a house with a PSBA poster taped to their garage. I said, “I’m going to join that,” and then last year I finally did it. It’s such an awesome group. As we talked about earlier, you don’t see much of this art form, and then there’s this group that exists just for book arts. The books are mind-blowing, and it’s such a privilege to meet the artists and see their work. We’re so lucky to have it.
So much of book arts is about form, and it’s so valuable to be able to see what others have done, especially in person. Everyone at PSBA is so open, so interested in everyone else’s work. It’s such an amazing resource and point of inspiration. BTW, I was excited to see PSBA at the Seattle Arts Book Fair—I hope they recruited a bunch of people.
Can you describe what your work space is like and how you work?
This is funny. I have a small desk in a long, skinny room that used to be a deck and is now a glass-enclosed space. I can sit at my desk and touch the opposite walls. The desk was built by my dad and myself out of an old Boeing shipping crate.
I don’t need a lot of space because I do a lot of my work on the computer during the research, organizing, and editing phases. So much of the creative process is editing. This comes out of my graphic design background. Throw out ideas, build some thumbnails, pick a few, sketch in some more, develop them, and then pick what you like.
And when it’s time to get messy and build things, then I go down to my dad’s shop.
What adjective describes you?
Curious!!!
Who are the teachers or mentors who inspired you?
My parents, Jim and Liz Moore, who helped me play however I wanted and to push myself into trying different things.
The Maker Movement for opening the idea of what something can be. Everyone is a maker. I label myself more often as a maker rather than an artist. Art comes with a lot of baggage, but everyone makes stuff.
The incredible illustrator Aaron Gorky. With his fine line work, he is who originally led me to graphic design. I like artists who have structure to their work.
And finally, who would you invite to your most creative dinner party?
I picked a theme for the party. I’ve been interested in how people think, and we don’t usually have an opportunity to verbalize that.
So, here are the partygoers: M.C. Escher (graphic artist), Simone Getz (inventor and product designer), Wes Anderson (filmmaker), Tilly Walden (graphic novelist), and Phil Tippet (stop motion designer).
Anna, thank you. Our conversation feels a bit like space travel with some souvenirs to take home.
| Paige and I met on a Sunday afternoon at the Collins Library. While we were talking about her work, the back of my brain was trying to figure out why her work was so familiar. And then the bell went off. About three years ago, I saw her present her first book, Urban Cedar, which was amazing. She was part of a group of book artists at one of Jane Carlin’s lunchtime events. The whole room was in awe of the complexity and style of her book—written in both English and Twulshootseed. Paige is a multidisciplinary artist who began as a painter and now includes sewing, creative writing, digital art, and jewelry making in her work. Check out her website: —Diane Miller |
How did you begin as an artist?
I have identified as an artist since I was really young. In fact, my earliest identification was as an artist. I was actually not a good student—I’m an abstract thinker, a visual learner, and also hands-on. When I think of those school years, I think I was distracted and not able to focus. And that was the way it was until I went back to school at Tacoma Community College at age 25, but I wasn’t studying art. I knew I was an artist, but I didn’t feel I had a clear path for what my art would look like as a career.
I just went back to school to figure things out. I did really well there, and I surprised myself. It shifted my idea of what my art could be. I had been doing odd jobs for a few years, but that wasn’t really sustainable. I had become sure of my path—everything I had done helped form me as an artist. When Covid happened, I quit what I was doing to become a full-time artist. It’s been both scary and a privilege. I’ve learned how to save and be resourceful so that I can do my art.
I’ve done many odd jobs, so I know how to do a lot of things, and I’ve made connections with folks—I know how to be in community, and because of that, I feel supported.
Can you say something about that support?
Yeah, I don’t work in one medium, and I think that may be why I’m able to be successful. I do jewelry, paint, digital graphics, and I’m a book artist. Those skills have opened me up to different communities. Those who are interested in one or more of those media find something in my work they can buy. Someone may not be able to afford an artist book, but they will buy a Zine. And it’s reciprocal—I also show up for them. It could be studio tours, birthdays, or markets. My communities support me and I them because I try to be reliable and impeccable with my word. I don’t ask more than what someone can give. I’ve found it’s crucial to have other people know who you are.
I try to say yes when someone asks something of me—it’s what I do to support the community who in turn supports me. When I go outside my comfort zone, it opens me up, and the community and I benefit. This is a good thing for artists to do because we are—well, vessels of the times, we’re recorders of the times.
Book Arts—how did you discover book arts?
Oh, my gosh—it found me. It was like a lot of my big, out-of-my-lane mediums that found me. Public Art was one of those. People saw it in me, and like I said, “say yes” to things that are challenging, even scary, and see what happens.
I did volunteer work with the Puyallup Language Department, and I learned Twulshootseed. Jane Carlin reached out to the Director, wanting someone to join a presentation. I agreed, but didn’t really know what it was. I met Jane and Jessica Spring. I was part of a panel that presented our art practice incorporating language. At that time, Jessica had the character type face for Twulshootseed. Jessica wanted to create something in the language, and I was there to talk about art in my daily practice.
Did you have a mentor in book arts?
You know how Jane is; she sees things in people that they may not even see in themselves, and she’s so supportive. You can tell she’s a strong advocate for the arts—she’s a super-hero. She brings this genre of art to public spaces. That is important for us and gives us visibility. And it’s been important for me personally because she’s facilitated these relationships and brought me in.
Jane asked me to make a book for an exhibit called Changing the Conversation. I had never made a book before. By then, I knew Jessica Spring and said, “Help—here’s my idea,” I want to use the language, changing the conversation from English to Twulshootseed. She showed me how to make an accordion book structure with a fold where I could put things in the fold. She also let me use her letterpress to make the cover. The book is now in the Collins collection.
Jessica introduced me to Gabby Cooksey, who showed me how to cover a book and how to do an inlay. They were amazing and giving. And then I did Arts at the Armory and met Lucia, who just picked me up and made me a part of PSBA.
PSBA has been so open and giving. If I don’t know what to do, someone steps up with advice or help. Jessica said if you have a concept, try to have other parts of the book be informed by that concept. I had this one book called Urban Cedar, and so we made it tall like a tree. Accordion fold with a pocket on one side and three small books on the other. One small book has a tree fold with the anatomy of a tree, and another small book is about talking to a cedar tree. All three small books are both in English and Twulshootseed. Tell us about some of your current work. I’m working on a book now that will be called Owl Woman. It will be an accordion fold, and the text is my poem based on a traditional narrative called Owl Woman and Chipmunk. In Salish culture, she is an evil monster. Here are some lines from the poem:
Can you walk us through one special project? .
This is the book I brought with me to show you. It’s made of ledger paper, modeled after the Plains ledger art style dating from the mid-19th century, when there was a lot of ledger paper used, and it was accessible to indigenous folks. Their artists used ledger paper as their blank canvas. I have a lot of this paper, and I try to incorporate it into my work as a nod to indigenous art. Its aged look gives it a certain tone. And then I used gouache, which hasn’t been my favorite medium, but I’m learning how to use it. I’ve learned a lot from YouTube, and then Jessica showed me some books that would be helpful for structures. Can you say something about PSBA and your practice? I’m so happy it exists. I think it’s really hard to develop something that is still thriving after almost 15 years. Even though we don’t all know each other, we can all feel the strength and support. It would be so nice if we could all meet in person. PSBA hits all interest and skill levels—it’s not overwhelming, you can participate in any way that works. When I think of what brought me to PSBA, it was the outreach. Someone told me about the exhibition, invited me to join, and then helped me make my first book. I was “baby-stepped” and then told, “I think you can do it.” It’s like a dopamine hit. There’s a tremendous sense of generosity. Can you describe what your workspace is like? I’m setting up my studio now. My partner built it with the most amazing recycled materials; It’s 12x20. Now I’m trying to organize it so there’s space for each of the mediums I work with. I’ve learned a lot from Debbi Commodore’s studio design and Becky Frehse’s new space. I’m at a crossroads with it—it’s not where I want it to be YET. What three words describe you? Good—I’m a good person An artist Student And finally, who would you invite to your most creative dinner party? I would want people from different disciplines—it’s hard to pick. Jaune Quick-to-See Smith (she’s passed on now.) She was a member of my tribe; she was a very strong artist, and she worked all over America. Joe Fedderson was her buddy. And then there’s Jane Goodall, who would be our scientist and nature observer. I’ve been thinking about my grandma, who was the family matriarch. I feel there’s so much I could have learned from her. And then the comedian, activist Dallas Goldtooth, he’d be the clown making us laugh. These are people with knowledge and are so willing to share, and nurture—a lot like PSBA. |
