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From a 100-page accordion book: 37

August 10, 2011

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Found internet images, paper-litho transfer prints, four colours, on BFK Rives printmaking paper.

100 page accordion book

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Here is the first book for the Lucerne Project. Click on the image above to play a short slideshow. The book consists of eight pages, each 6.5 " high by 11" wide, in an accordion fold that opens out to be 89" wide. The method of making the book was as follows: Trawl the internet for publicly-available photos of Lucerne that people have uploaded to the web. Print out small jpegs. Xerox the jpegs and enlarge by as much as 1000%. Ink and print the xeroxes onto light grey printmaking paper. Write a short phrase suggested by each image. Edit the phrases slightly so that they connect to each other. Print each phrase onto the corresponding print. Glue the pages into one long strip, with the division between each page scored so that they can be folded up accordion-style. Already I can see how this method might be a way of producing a narrative about people I've never met, in a place I've never been, while still retaining a poetic quality to the combination of

Lucerne in Missouri

I was in St. Louis, Missouri, a few weeks ago, and as I was walking around one of the older neighbourhoods, I saw this doorway: Apparently a lot of people emigrated to St. Louis from Switzerland at the end of the nineteenth century.

The tourists on the quayside (part 2)

from an imaginary Lucerne diary. But on that warm Sunday morning, instead of playing in the street with the other children, I was with my grandfather at the lake, helping him to shove the boat off the cart and into the water. The rods, lines and plastic buckets to hold the fish were already in it. When we climbed in, we had to sit almost with our knees touching in order to fit into the narrow space. My grandfather grasped the oars with his thick calloused hands and slowly rowed us out into the middle of the lake. “Don’t fidget,” he said to me. “You don’t want to tip us over.” From the other side of the lake, we heard an outboard motor starting up. Other people liked boating here, too, and nearly all of them had boats which, though small, had been purchased with engine attached from a boat shop in town. My grandfather was the only member of the community who sailed out over the lake in his tiny hand-built, hand-powered dinghy. I realized when I was older that the other boat owners thoug

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