The Book Shopper

Book Art at the High Museum

Abelardo Morell (American, born Cuba, 1948), Dictionary, 1994, inkjet print, 18 × 22 ½ in. Courtesy of the artist and Edwynn Houk Gallery, New York. © Abelardo Morell

Experiencing books as photographs or art objects is almost as fun as reading them and much less time consuming, unless you're visiting the prodigious Abelardo Morell exhibit currently being staged at the High Museum of Art here in Atlanta through May 18.

"The Universe Next Door" displays more than 100 photographs of the Cuban-born Morell's work including his technique known as Camera Obscura, an optical effect where images from the outside (skylines, trees) are projected on the inside of a room, which is better explained on the artist's own website. I didn't allow myself enough time to see it all, especially since I spent the majority of time on the part of the exhibit dedicated to Morell's detailed photographs of paper, books and maps. I plan on returning.

For more about Book as Art as Books check out the link on the right. Thanks to the High Museum for providing the artwork.

Rust Cohle's Reading Group

 I didn't realize until 25 minutes into Episode 7 of the HBO series, True Detective that Rust Cohle (played by Matthew McConaughey) and I read the same books. Until then, I didn't think we had much in common.

In the scene where Rust and his partner Marty Hart (played by Woody Harrelson) haul his books and files into the offices of Marty's private detective agency, there is a copy of Taschen Publishing's Book of Symbols: Reflections on Archetypal Images (2010) clearly on the top.  The scene symbolizes Marty and Rust's relationship, because asking somebody to help you move -- much less boxes of books -- is a milestone in any serious friendship.

The book was put together by editors from the Archive for Research in Archetypeal Symbolism (ARAS). Below is a good description of the book, but you'll have to visit their website to read the ringing endorsement from supermodel Gisele Bundchen.

Authored by writers from the fields of psychology, religion, art, literature, and comparative myth, the essays flow into each other in ways that mirror the psyche’s unexpected convergences. There are no pat definitions of the kind
that tend to collapse a symbol; a still vital symbol remains partially unknown, compels our attention and unfolds in new meanings and manifestations over time. Rather than merely categorize, The Book of Symbols illuminates how to move from the visual experience of a symbolic image in art, religion, life, or dreams, to directly experiencing its personal and psychological resonance.

Admitted I keep my copy of the  book, which I bought at the Carlos Museum Bookshop on the campus of Emory University, on display as a conversation starter, but I have read some of the entries.

In the unlikely event that Rust Cohle and Gisele Bundchen contact me to start a regular reading group,  I am not sure what other books that I would recommend. A few come to mind though:

• Denial of Death by Ernest Becker
• Escape from Evil by Ernest Becker
• Life Against Death by Norman O. Brown
• Tom Brady: The Inspirational of Football Superstar Tom Brady by Inspirational Stories

Odd selections perhaps, but I figure the last book may be of special interest to Gisele Bundchen since she is married to New England Patriot quarterback Tom Brady.

Mexico Lingers

 

Thoughts from the last posting on Oaxaca, Mexico continue to linger in my mind...

I just finished reading another one of the books I brought back with me -- Amy Butler Greenfield's A Perfect Red: Empire, Espionage, and the Quest for the Color of Desire (2005). Greenfield's book gives an historical account of the importance the natural red dye found on the cochineal, a parasite that grows on the nopal (prickly pear) cactus. Because the color red was such in demand in Europe and the sources of red dye were very limited, this little critter played an important role in world history.

In 1519 when the Spaniards arrived in Tenochtitlan (Mexico City), they immediately noticed the rich red fabrics and feathers that adorned the inhabitants. By 1523, the first shipments of red dye made from the cochineal began to arrive in Spain. The demand for this red dye was so high that Spain was able to finance much of its world empire for the next couple of centuries by controlling this commodity. But Greenfield puts the cochineal in even a greater historical context throughout as she aptly ties in other major events such as the discovery of the microscope (around 1704), the naval war between England and Spain or the rise of the pre-World War I chemical industry, which led to the development of the poisonous mustard gas.

It's a better book than Mark Kurlansky's Salt (2003)– a book that it is often compared to – and though they are written in a similar12^th grade social studies style (meaning nothing flashy prose wise),  at least I finished Greenfield's book because as I mentioned, she managed to expand the scope of her primary subject to keep it fresh.

Still, if I were recommending one book to read before I went to Mexico, I'd suggest Charles Mann's 1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus (2005), which looks at the civilizations that dominated the Americas before Columbus, including a few pages on the Zapotecs, the indigenous tribe that began building Monte Alban (shown above) in 500 BC and whose language is still spoken in the artisan villages that surround Oaxaca City. In one chapter, Greenfield makes an interesting point about how the Zapotecs were able to maintain their heritage and status much better than other tribes. Since harvesting parasites off cactus is a difficult, non-scalable agricultural endeavor, the ruling Spaniards granted more independence to the families that grew the valuable cochineal, which was not the kind of agricultural product than lent itself to large plantations like coffee and bananas and the displaced labor who had to work the fields.

I became familiar with Mann when I saw him at Emory University a few years ago. There were a few discussions about the book around our inn's breakfast table as well. And you can bet they had plenty of copies of 1491 at Oaxaca's Amate bookstore next to the shelves filled with Alebrijes, the fantastic wood carved sculptures that are so much a part of the folk art of Oaxaca. From my understanding, there was a recent literacy push featuring animals reading books. (The link takes you to a peacock reading Flanary O'Connor.)

Below is another lingering memory of Mexico which now graces my living room, a reading cat carved by Jesus Calvo-Sosa. Undoubtedly this carving appeals to soccer fans too, which anyone who witnessed 68,000 fans who overran the Georgia Dome last week for an exhibition match between Mexico and Nigeria knows cannot be denied. I am only glad that I saw it first.