#chained book

#ArtsyFriday

What could be better than a historically inspired wooden book? How about a miniature historically inspired wooden book chained to a larger one!

 [Chained book on a book], a book object from artist Daniel Essig, features a double coptic stitch bound wooden book with a chained miniature book attached to the front board. Made in the style of an ancient codex, the tome is finished with brass bosses and leather clasps at the fore-edge. The curly oak wooden boards are covered with painted UICB paper that mimics the look of worn leather. The text block is completely blank, although the miniature features what appears as German blackletter printer’s waste. This is one of my favorite pieces to bring to classes, where it can spark a lot of conversations about historical practices like chained books and printer’s waste to how historical structures can be re-imagined in a contemporary piece. 

--Laura 

#ArtsyFriday

In light that this week brought both International Book Day (Thursday April 23) and National Library Week, our selected artists' book may appear a little unorthodox. Re-imagining a 'chained book', A book by Scott Sikenofka is unreadable. The book object consists of a copy of the King James Bible chained shut with a heavy duty combination lock on the front cover. The only identifiable feature is the artist's last name scrawled on the front cover in gold. Our library copy was exhibited in 'Artwoods and bookworks' at the Los Angeles Institute of Contemporary Art in 1978. Without a colophon or artist statement, the simple title A book was supplied by Judith Hoffberg (librarian, archivist, and editor of Umbrella, a newsletter on artists' books, mail art, and Fluxus) in a letter from 1990; Hoffberg who co-curated the 1978 exhibition. I always find book objects fascinating, but considering this piece in a time when we find ourselves away from the stacks and attempt to make connections without opening the pages of a book, this artists' book resonates. --Laura 

Jailed books

Medieval books were incredibly expensive. When placed in a public place, for example in a cathedral or public library, they were often chained to the lectern or bookshelf on which they were placed (as you can see in this blog about Zutphen’s chained library). It turned the book into a prisoner. The chain and the book-attachment are almost always clunky, the chains usually rattly. Reading a book like this was a challenging and particularly noisy affair! It was not exactly contributing to the silence that was to be obeyed in a library - that jail filled with noisy prisoners.