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> Artists' Books 2012–2019 > Artists' books 2000–2011 > Why books?
> Zines 2019 > Zines 2015–2018 > Zines 2012–2014 > Zines 2002–2011
> Exhibitions > Published works > Related projects
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An Introduction ARTISTS' BOOKS > Artists' Books 2012–2019 > Artists' books 2000–2011 > Why books? ZINES > Zines 2019 > Zines 2015–2018 > Zines 2012–2014 > Zines 2002–2011 EXHIBITIONS & PUBLISHED > Exhibitions > Published works > Related projects
Gracia & Louise
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Feathery quartet

Recently landed: Feathery quartet, a new post on Elsewhere (by Louise)

Louise Jennison, A Flight of Twelve Southern Hemisphere Birds , 2013, artists' book

Louise Jennison, A Flight of Twelve Southern Hemisphere Birds, 2013, artists' book

Artists' booksGracia LouiseOctober 29, 2013A Flight of Twelve Southern Hemisphere Birds, Southern Boobook owl, Kakapo, Grey-rumped Treeswift, Red Knot, Geelong Gallery, book launch
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A Catalogue of Bodies fully formed

ZinesGracia LouiseOctober 30, 2013A Catalogue of Bodies, Agatha Christie, Hercule Poirot, The Hollow, Five Little Pigs
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Malicious streak awoken

Dear You, ZinesGracia LouiseOctober 28, 2013A Postcard as Measuring Device, postcard collage
 
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Sep 27, 2019
Of pink marble and porphyry
Sep 27, 2019
Sep 27, 2019
Sep 25, 2019
2019 Geelong acquisitive print awards
Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019
Sep 22, 2019
Zarafa
Sep 22, 2019
Sep 22, 2019
Sep 18, 2019
As soon as we met
Sep 18, 2019
Sep 18, 2019
Sep 13, 2019
“The beginning of day”
Sep 13, 2019
Sep 13, 2019
Sep 11, 2019
Stamping Ground
Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019
Sep 7, 2019
“In the heavens for all eternity”
Sep 7, 2019
Sep 7, 2019
Sep 5, 2019
Melody and Mythology
Sep 5, 2019
Sep 5, 2019
Aug 19, 2019
MIFF 2019, from present to past tense
Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019
Jul 22, 2019
Sights Unseen: Recent Acquisitions from the Moreland Art Collection
Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019
Jul 21, 2019
Salvaged Relatives
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019
Jul 13, 2019
Other Worlds 2019 Short story competition
Jul 13, 2019
Jul 13, 2019
Jul 10, 2019
Near to the lake’s edge
Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019
Jul 9, 2019
Light and Shade
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 8, 2019
Small things; precious things
Jul 8, 2019
Jul 8, 2019
Jun 23, 2019
Like Light
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 17, 2019
File under ‘Eye’
Jun 17, 2019
Jun 17, 2019
Jun 14, 2019
It came like light out of the walls
Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019
Jun 11, 2019
Evolve
Jun 11, 2019
Jun 11, 2019
Jun 10, 2019
“The stability of nature can no longer be taken for granted”
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019
Jun 3, 2019
Keep an eye on
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019
May 31, 2019
In the museum
May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019
May 23, 2019
Watercolour and pencil, blue, green, more
May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019
May 22, 2019
Through a glass eye
May 22, 2019
May 22, 2019
May 18, 2019
Through a forest
May 18, 2019
May 18, 2019
May 17, 2019
Trees of Life for The Big Issue
May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019
May 16, 2019
Divides and reassembles
May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019
May 15, 2019
Windigo
May 15, 2019
May 15, 2019
May 6, 2019
Shopfront
May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019
Apr 15, 2019
Imprint: A Survey of the Print Council of Australia
Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019
While away from home, updates from The Cat Motel (@thecatmotel), upon whose feed featured Lenni and Arthur, pictured here. (Thank-you 🖤) “Paris is a paradise for #cats. Nowhere in the world are they more beloved and petted, and nowhere are cats more beautiful. It is a curious fact that about every French woman or Frenchman of creative genius is a cat lover. Writers, composers, artists, sculptors and dramatists own cats. And their cats are always #beautiful creatures, almost humanly wise and intelligent, and show marked charm of nature seeming to understand fully the love that is lavished upon them and to feel that they must respond to it with all their grace and warmth of affection. It is certainly interesting to watch these cats and their famous owners. Mme. Curie, the discoverer of radium, owns a beautiful cat, to which she is devoted. The cat was equally loved by her late husband, Prof. Curie, who used to play with him for hours, and the cat would cut up all sorts of capers for his master. The cat’s name is Radium and he is a gray Angora, with a swan white tip on his tail. When Mme. Curie is at home Radium is always close beside her. He sits on her study table. Over which he walks very carefully and gingerly, that he may not disturb anything, and when she goes out he waits patiently and rather sadly till she returns, when he goes into ecstasies of delight. He sleeps on Mme. Curie’s bed and sits at the table with her at meals in a chair of his own, lapping his milk from a saucer in the daintiest way. .... Pierre Loti is a great lover of cats. He spends hours caressing and fondling them and talking to them just as if they understood all that he said. He declares that they do understand him and that they are far wiser than people think. He has owned many cats and there are many graves of his cherished pets in the cat cemetery of Paris. Like Theophile Gautier, he cannot write unless his cats are all about him; in fact he prefers to have them all over him, sitting in his lap, on his shoulders or on his knees.” ‘PARIS: A CATS’ PARADISE’, The Sun (USA), 20th March, 1910 #Paris #thankyou #TheCatMotel #catsofinstagram
Ever on the lookout for a Brancusi for Dad (@peterhaby), here, from Atelier Brancusi galore to the Pompidou by way of the Musée des Arts Décoratifs (@madparis), and finding dogs in cabinets and the appearance of a Burmese cat’s face in a bag as messages from Lottie’s own holiday ping-ping-land on the phone. (Thank-you Janice for taking such wonderful care of Lottie, and for the updates you sent us, two of which shared here.) ☁️ When you see a fish you don’t think of its scales, do you? You think of its speed, its floating, flashing body seen through the water. Well, I’ve tried to express just that. If I made fins and eyes and scales, I would arrest its movement, give a pattern or shape of reality. I want just the flash of its spirits. — Constantin Brancusi #fish #dogs #spirit #Paris #Brancusi #movement #ConstantinBrancusi
I enjoyed the reds of autumn. I enjoyed not being able to understand all the conversations happening around me on the bus and the space it afforded. I enjoyed the sharpness of the senses. Au revoir, Paris. “All that is important is this one moment in movement. Make the moment important, vital, and worth living. Do not let it slip away unnoticed and unused.” — Martha Graham 🍂 #red #Paris #memories #thesedays #thisisautumn #MarthaGraham
Six white swans on the river. Morning sun in my eyes. A still-warm croissant. A man playing ball with his small dog. The art materials store opens at 10. We give the last of our euros to a man and his rabbit sat before the oldest church in Paris, Église de Saint Germain des Prés. #Paris #swans #onfoot #wandering #thisisautumn
Claude Monet to Thiébault-Sisson: “I have painted a lot of these water lilies, modifying each time my point of view, renewing the subject following seasons of the year, and therefore, following different luminous effects engendered by these changes. The effect besides varies incessantly. The essential of the subject is the mirror of the water whose aspect, at any one time, changes itself thanks to the expanses of sky which is reflect in it, and spreading life and movement. The passing cloud, the freshening breeze, the threatening and falling rain, the sudden gust of wind, the light failing and shining again, so many reasons, elusive to the profane eye, which transform the tint and disfigure the body of water”. #Monet #garden #Giverny #waterlilies #thisisautumn #ClaudeMonet
Driving around the Arc de Triumph and down the Avenue des Champs-Élysées in a hire car — the one route everyone said not to take, but the route the GPS directed us to without our noticing — was the very stuff of dreams. ‘We did it! Hurrah!’ It was the ‘sod you’ Louise wished also to give to her years of chronic post-surgical pain. And from the high of this moment to the low of our GPS then directing by a route which we believed was held by the Extinction Rebellion. The bridge at Pont au Change is no longer held by the rebels and we drove through an area where previously there had been tents, hope, and a call for action, not more talk, and now. The only sign of the XR at the centre point of Paris, a line of police vehicles to rival the length of a boulevard. We also felt the weight of our own footprint, driving, flying, and using single-use plastics. @extinctionrebellion: “If not you, who? If not now, when?⁣ This is an emergency, this is now. The choice is ours, extinction or rebellion? ⁣ ⁣ The big polluters’ masterstroke was to blame the climate crisis on you and me. ⁣ ⁣ A paper published in Nature shows that we have little chance of preventing more than 1.5C of global heating unless existing fossil fuel infrastructure is retired. Instead the industry intends to accelerate production, spending nearly $5tn in the next 10 years on developing new reserves. It is committed to ecocide.⁣ ⁣ The ideology of consumerism is highly effective at shifting blame: witness the current ranting in the billionaire press about the alleged hypocrisy of environmental activists. This individuation of responsibility, intrinsic to consumerism, blinds us to the real drivers of destruction.⁣ ⁣ It’s the system we need to change, rather than the products of the system. It is as citizens that we must act, rather than as consumers.⁣” ⁣#Paris #daytrip #TheTimeIsNow #EverybodyNow #ExtinctionOrRebellion
Listening to birds fossicking and noting the busy and fuzzy pollinators in gardens orchestrated to delight in change. Making plans to move in. “Everything is prudent, even the exuberance; everything is prepared, even that which seems wild.” — Édouard Mortier, Duc de Trevise #Monet #Giverny #gardens #inthegarden #ClaudeMonet
Inside, only to go outside. Where the “light constantly changes, and [in doing so] alters the atmosphere and beauty of things every minute“ (Claude Monet). #Monet #autumn #Giverny #inthegarden #thisisautumn
One hire car, to fly around the Arc de Triomphe like a local, and to pause in small villages like Limetz-Villez and Bennecourt where, incidentally, importantly, we met a talkative white cat. A day trip, a swell squealing day trip, with @pasadenamansions, and Louise (expertly, fearlessly, as ever) behind the wheel. I’d once asked Louise if there was anything daring she still wished to do, and renting a hire car whilst we were in Paris was it. And did it we three did. With apologies to the cyclist who dodged us driving the wrong way down a one way street at Gare de Lyon. #Paris #daytrip #hirecar #Giverny #Bennecourt #LimetzVillez
And stayed for ‘You’, with the sculpted and sonic resurrection of a ‘Walking Whale’ from 50 million years ago, a ‘Hell Pig’ from 25 million years ago, and a ‘Mammoth Imperator’ from 4.5 million years ago (within Marguerite Humaeu’s ‘The Opera of Prehistoric Creatures’), and Michel Blazy’s polluted water drip-drops. (‘You’ presents a selection of works by French and international contemporary artists from the 330 pieces in the Lafayette Anticipations Collection — the Moulin Family Endowment Fund. @museedartmodernedeparis) #You #Paris #explore #thisisautumn #museedartmoderne
“In painting, everything must be right: the lines, curves, forms, angles and colours to form an image that can last ... that is the definitive expression of a phenomenon, of an emotion. ... For me, the pleasure of living is mixed up with the pleasure of painting. When one has dedicated one’s entire life to painting, when one has tried to go always further, it is impossible to stop.” Hans Hartung A retrospective of Hartung, by way of the market out the front, on a Saturday. Feel for the description of yellow’s meaning, pure colour, lithographs to illustrate the worlds of Jean Proal — “a question of death. ... I knew what was being expressed there” — watercolours and drawing-writing, and a ‘staged’ workshop. “Several design and interior decoration magazines published articles on ‘Hartung at home’, illustrated with photographs of the living and working space. Hartung welcomes his guests in a workshop with large white walls. It is in fact an impeccable staging, this place being dedicated solely to the promotion of the artist. It was on the fifth floor, in a smaller studio, that the pictorial activity took place. The art critic Jean Clay has, from 1963, understood the set-up and felt the painter’s “distrust”, which protected his real workspace from competition and the market”. #Paris #process #painting #Hartung #inthegallery
Earlier, we’d walked through the collection, feeling paintings pulsate, and now, as I go through my camera roll, I see them with the dancers humming and shaking before them. From 2.30 to 3.30, they inhabited the space. A case of beautiful timing in every sense. A fortunate stroke of serendipity and dream. @liquidloft #Paris #dance #memory #liquidloft #danceinmuseums #contemporarydance #museedartmodernedelavilledeparis
Liquid Loft performed a fusion of ‘Foreign Tongues’ and ‘Stand-Alones’ for the reopening of the Musée d’Art Moderne de Paris. “In the ‘Foreign Tongues’ projects series, Liquid Loft explore the complex interactions between verbal messages and their physical attributes. ‘Foreign Tongues’ approaches, with the vocabulary of body language, the often contradictory forms of communication. Starting point for the various performances are language recordings, which were produced as part of personal interviews in different regions of Europe. ...The site-specific performances are based on local languages and jargons, reflecting the sound environment of the place. With every location, the Spoken Word Symphony grows, the characteristic architecture of the site becomes the scenery of the play”. Merge this with the acoustically interwoven solos in ‘Stand-Alones’ “in separately accessible rooms [which] grow together over the course of the performance into a choreographic canon ... [as] the performers move, apparently without link to the outside world ... surrounded only by the mysteries of the mental spaces of their own world experience. ... When our senses can no longer keep up processing the upheavals in the world, the obvious becomes questionable, unnatural, vulnerable. ... [Before Bonnard, de Chirico, Picabia, Raoul Dufy, and the Delaunays] the individual becomes divided, the body a last refuge. Only in phases of smoldering silence and slow-motion can we detect the traces of expressive distortion in it”. @liquidloft #Paris #dance #liquidloft #standalones #danceinmuseums #contemporarydance #museedartmodernedelavilledeparis
At the Musée du quai Branly — Jacques Chirac, by way of the 63 bus, before “200 hundreds years of history, enrichment, study and conservation of public collections. [The Museum] conserves almost 370,000 works originating in Africa, the Near East, Asia, Oceania and the Americas which illustrate the richness and cultural diversity of the non-European civilisations from the Neolithic period (+/-10,000 B.C.) to the 20th century”. Before private archives donated since 1998 from “30 collections representing 110 linear metres of documents .... [a] galaxy of documents [that] opens up avenues to enhance the biography of items, from their original source to their arrival in the museum”. Travel images, photographs from Burkina Faso in the ‘70s, textiles, gold, feathers, meaning and message, role, and beauty, and the paper funerary simulacra of Taiwan, “which are burnt to assure the comfort of the dead in the beyond”, such as a smartphone with special ‘paradise’ applications. @quaibranly #future #musée #history #collection #museeduquaibranly
We return by way of a silvered Maharajah recorded by Man Ray (‘Modern Maharajah: a Patron of the 1930s’ at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs), wave a wing at Constantin Brancusi’s ‘Bird in Space’ (especially for @peterhaby), and à boat named ‘Louise’ (if only). #Paris #Seine #onfoot #ManRay #ModernMaharaja #MuséedesArtsDecoratifs
Following the line work of memory and movement (and avoiding the large knots of tourists, where possible, with @pasadenamansions) at the Grand Palais for the room-after-room Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec retrospective, co-curated with the Musée d’Orsay, the Musée de l’Orangerie and the Réunion des musées nationaux and supported by the city of Albi and the Musée Toulouse-Lautrec. “.... to adore nights more than days — to adore and to detest immensely; to squander much of one’s substance in riotous living, to have a terribly direct eye and as direct force of hand; to be capable of painting certain things which have never yet existed for us on the canvas....” — Arthur Symons, ‘From Toulouse Lautrec to Rodin’ (London: 1929) #Paris #Lautrec #GrandPalais #ChampsElyssee #ToulouseLautrec
There, a Rose-ringed parakeet (Psittacula krameri), not on a vase or in a painting, but on a sunflower. In the Jardin Écologique, in Paris, and her suburbs, living, glowing, green. #Paris #birds #parakeet #JardindesPlantes #Roseringedparakeet
In awe of the the Carrion crow (Corvus corone linné) and their power to “act like ink-blot tests drawing images out of my unconscious” (Mark Cocker, ‘Crow Country’). At the Jardin des Plants, the gardens are protected by the most robust and intelligent of birds, with one even walking the whole length of the pathway with us. A protector of the garden, hurrying us out the gate before the heavy downpour. We leapt on a 63, bound for Odéon, not as wet as we’d otherwise have been. A wise and beautiful bird, indeed. Merci. #crow #Paris #birds #Carrioncrow #Corvuscorone #JardindesPlantes
At the Centre Pompidou. Before Joan Miró’s ‘Blue’ triptych created out of “a very great inner tension, to reach the emptiness”; Raoul Duffy’s ‘Le Dromadaire’; Natalia Gontcharova’s ‘À propose de la personne’; and André Bauchant’s ‘Fleurs variées’. Before old favourites, and new favourites. For as long as the legs would hold, and not long enough at all. “Brushing a cosmic space punctuated by lines and signs of movement.” At ‘Bacon: Books and Painting’, with the “great poets [those] incredible triggers of images, their words .... open the doors of my imagination”. (@centrepompidou) #Paris #JoanMiró #inthegallery #thisisautumn #CentrePompidou
“Again the pigeons go round the square. What triggers this unified movement? .... it seems completely gratuitous: the birds suddenly take flight, go round the square and return to settle on the district council building’s gutters. 
It is two twenty.” Georges Perec’s catalogue of things and thoughts, his “infraordinary” written over three days in 1974 (the 18th, 19th and 20th of October) within ‘An Attempt at Exhausting a Place in Paris’. He noted “tens, hundreds of simultaneous actions, micro-events, each one of which necessitates postures, movements, specific expenditures of energy,” and the weather: Day 1 is “Dry cold. Gray sky. Some sunny spells”; Day 2, “Fine rain, drizzle”; and Day 3 is “Rain. Wet ground. Passing sunny spells.” I wonder where and how my own mental catalogue will appear, in a collage, or on the pages of our next artists’ book. Will there be the ducks at the grotto, too low and camouflaged by the water to feature in the tourist photos of the fountain at the Jardin du Luxembourg? The stray cat interested in marking the parked Paul’s van at the entrance to the château? A man with his petite chien out for a stroll; his coffee-coloured trousers complementing the dogs orange lead and silky terrier coat. A line in the Post Office; the sun behind the teller causing me to squint. Out in the street, a euro shining, wedged in the grill; you’d need a pair of tweezers or nimble fingers to retrieve it from its hold. A loud man on his mobile. Two people on a scooter. “Four children. A dog. A little ray of sun. The 96. It is two o’clock.” #Paris #onfoot #wandering #justpassing #thisisautumn
 
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