Gracia Haby
Good evening, good evening. So nice of you to come all this way.
October, 2008
Digital print zine
Edition of 60


A 15cm X 10.5cm, 32 page colour and B&W zine with a bright red cover card and cardboard back, with a glued spine. Expect within the pages of this zine to receive a little love with your cabbage roll, to comb the lawns of Killarney in Ireland, to brake a few roof tiles in Stockholm and discover blue skies in Germany.

This zine features many of the collages and accompanying texts from Gracia’s occasional Postcard Travels series, alongside photographic ephemera from Elisabeth Söderberg’s life received by post from Alexandra Hedberg, and a few other hidden surprises.

The title of this zine has been borrowed from Evelyn Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited. It is a line spoken by Charles Ryder’s father, and in our copy of the book it falls on page 82.

An edition of this zine was exhibited as part of CFPR Book Arts: New Wave: artists' publishing in the 21st Century, School of Creative Arts, University of West England, Bristol, UK, 15th – 19th September, 2009, and later as part of A Sense of Place in Artists Books, Walker Art Centre, Minneapolis, USA, 7th November – 12th December, 2012.


Collage on postcard and photograph, 2008
Titles of works as they appear:
Making a circle, almost
Seeking treasure in New Mexico
Where did you spring from?
At first all was not clear
All were in attendance
Looking for a way in
When in doubt it often helps to start at the beginning (I)
When in doubt it often helps to start at the beginning (II)
Like so?
A fine balancing act (II)
More unruly than I had hoped
We may not be able to see the moon from here but we know it hangs high above
Moving forward ought to seem like the easiest thing but today was proving the opposite
Searching for a way out
Looking for delicacies in Lebanon
Mind how you go in the capital
A fine balancing act (I)
Is this it?
How about this?
Or this?
Mind how you scamper
Feeling gigantic
Yes, that’s it


On the second floor of Rapson Hall on the University of Minnesota campus sits a quiet haven of bookish delight. It is the Architecture and Landscape Architecture departments’ library, so its stacks are filled with beautiful books and the furniture is designer-made and lovely. More urgently, for the next week the library is also chock full of a curious assortment of artist books that take up architecture’s familiar preoccupation with place. 

A Sense of Place in Artist Books is one of a series of collaborative efforts among university departments this fall; the sprawling table-top exhibition contains nearly 100 literary portals to elsewhere. The concept of "place" at play in all these artist books is only minimally defined in the exhibition description, and the territories covered in the material on view are as varied as the book forms themselves: tiny and coffee table-sized, photocopied and letterpress-printed, flat and sculptural, handmade and machine bound

....other travelogues are more fictional than documentary. My favorite of these is a book by Gracia Haby of altered, fantastical postcards, and letters from an unknown traveler that become more surreal as the journey wanders on: You never came, but in your place, a moose, an elk on a ramshackle bicycle, a wolverine and a pair of lynx from Gästrikland. They spoke to me of the weather, their plans, their likes and their loves.
(Sarah Peters, Getting Lost in A Sense of Place in Artist Books, Walker Art Center, Minneapolis, USA, 6th December, 2012)