
I returned last week from the 15th Annual Juried International Exhibit, “The Art of the Book & Paper”. Held in the Rochester Public Library (New York), I was stunned by one of the finest art presentations I’ve ever attended (or judged). In so many ways, the artwork I saw there went to the heart of the work we all do as photographers who print or aspire to do so.
Full disclosure: I was honored to be chosen as one of the artists in the exhibition, selected from 28 states and five countries. The event was held in the expansive and spectacular Anthony Mascioli Gallery and kudos to the library staff and volunters who put this jewel of a show together.
The pieces created by those artists was stunning. On opening night the crowd circulated around work that represented the “best of the best”; intricate sculptures made of paper, ornate arrangements of papers stacked into book-like form and carved into dizzying illusions and, in one showstopper, an entire larger-than-life gown made entirely of colorful tiled paper.
My hand-made book of my photograhs taken in the Tianmen mountains of China, “Mountains in the Mist”, was definitely an outlier. It was the only photography book in the exhibition. Although it was undoubtedly the most difficult photographic project I’d ever done, it paled in comparison to some of the intricate paperwork that some of the artists created, some using tweezers and a desktop magnifying glass to painstakingly bring their vision to life.




My book was printed in my studio on Awagami washi papers. Each photo page was overlayed with a slip of translucent Awagami Unryu paper (with embedded mulberry fibers), on which I placed a saying from the meditative nature poetry of Hsieh Ling Yün (385-433 C.E.). Hsieh’s words are paired with Chinese calligraphic lettering that both capture its meaning and add to the design appeal.
There were valuable lessons to be learned from the exhibit; lessons that we are all better to be mindful of. I’ll focus on just one here, but it’s arguably the most significant for success as a photographer at any level or genre.
As I examined each artist’s astounding attention to detail, it was obvious that their vision was manifest in front of my eyes. That reminded me of something I read as a very young man. To paraphrase:
“A vision without action is but a dream.”
I cannot imagine what those artists went through to accomplish the art on display. How many mistakes, how many finger cuts, how many failures of glue, how many versions thrown into the trash after hours of work bent over the worktable? But the lesson is simply and agonizingly this. They had a vision... and they started. They committed to the journey. Through failure they learned, they adapted, they persevered. But, most importantly, they started.
Is that any different from what we do as photographers? Do you have a vision? It may be simple. A lone tree on a hill silhouetted against an impending storm. Start. Get out. Find the scene, wait for the weather to change. Go back, again and again and yet again. But, start.
I have a colleague who’s now a successful fashion photographer. He had a vision to be one, but he was too young, too broke, and too inexperienced. He couldn’t afford to hire pricey models to gain studio experience. He had to start somewhere. He made a deal with amateur models. Let me take photos of you and create your portfolio, free of charge. You don’t charge me and I don’t charge you. Failure ay first, but it was a start. Other failures. Climbing the learning curve, skipping meals. But, he eventually succeeded. He had started his journey.
I’m a photographer, not a bookmaker I said to myself every time the urge to create a hand-made book rose in my mind. Since I was a child I was captivated by hand-made books I saw in museums and galleries. I’ve always loved books, especially artistically bound ones. I loved holding them. I dreamed of making one someday. Always someday.
Sixty years passed before I felt I had to start on the journey. Now. I studied. I took workshops. I tossed the idea around with my wife and friends. I planned. I bought the equipment. I started.
In a future post I’ll share with you photos of some of my bookmaking failures. They were many. I was often frustrated, but I had started on my journey and I wasn’t about to stop. My first Limited Edition book has won two awards and is in the permanent collection of a museum. So, I’m here to say it’s never too late. Just start.


Thank you for this .. it found me when I needed it! "A vision without action is but a dream" is now written on the top of my note book!