The straightforward across-on-the-M62-and-up-the-A/M1 journey to Newcastle cannot really be described as interesting. Crossing the Pennines is always good, especially this particular time with the horizon silhouetted stunningly against a lovely early morning sky (why does a low sun in the morning look so very different to a low sun in the evening? Or is that an illusion?) but I always forget how very wide Yorkshire is compared to the western side of the Pennines, and how relatively flat and featureless the route north is (I'd rather go up through Cumbria and then across on the 'B' road next to Hadrian's Wall - definitely a feature-full trip just about all the way). Still, there were little landscape thrills, such as shiny bright fields of rape against a backdrop of dusty purple cloud, and a fleeting glimpse of Durham Cathedral, not to mention some amazing skies and an astonishingly broad strip of rainbow touching base in the field next to us on the return journey. Due to some slapdash route planning just before I left, I missed the Angel of the North on the way up, but really, we needn't go into that.
Enough to say that I made it to the Baltic on the south bank of the Tyne and checked in for their first Artists' Book Fair. A very enjoyable two days meeting lots of new book artists (and a few old acquaintances) and talking with them; meeting visitors who'd never been to such an event before and talking with them; meeting all the lovely organisers and staff associated with the fair and talking with them (you always talk a lot at book fairs). It wasn't overly busy but it wasn't overly quiet either and I think everyone there had a good time.
One of the pleasure of book arts is how different everyone's work is - book arts is very much an umbrella term. I'm only going to pick out one artist this time, whose work was completely different to anything I had seen at a fair before - Marie Marcano, whose experimental calligraphy was just fantastic.
Enough to say that I made it to the Baltic on the south bank of the Tyne and checked in for their first Artists' Book Fair. A very enjoyable two days meeting lots of new book artists (and a few old acquaintances) and talking with them; meeting visitors who'd never been to such an event before and talking with them; meeting all the lovely organisers and staff associated with the fair and talking with them (you always talk a lot at book fairs). It wasn't overly busy but it wasn't overly quiet either and I think everyone there had a good time.
One of the pleasure of book arts is how different everyone's work is - book arts is very much an umbrella term. I'm only going to pick out one artist this time, whose work was completely different to anything I had seen at a fair before - Marie Marcano, whose experimental calligraphy was just fantastic.
Marie Marcano's work.
I didn't get enough of a look at the rest of the Baltic on this visit, though I did make a brief trip to the second floor library where the Book Apothecary, a Travelling Museum of Books, was on show. I was (being just a tad keen on books) most taken with the curving wall of oldish books in the window - there were some fascinating tomes there, and I would happily have spent a few hours (or days) deconstructing the wall, leafing through any number of its building blocks and putting it all back together, perhaps short of just one or two of the most covetable bricks...
Baltic Artists' Book Fair, outside...
... and inside. Sarah Morpeth's table, opposite our own, with Sarah (I would say) enjoying a quiet moment not having to smile at anyone. We talk a lot at book fairs, we smile a lot at book fairs. They are a lot more tiring than you might imagine. Incidentally, the lovely, ruffly red piece, top left, was a delight to run your fingers round - very satisfyingly tactile.
It really doesn't need saying, does it, that I didn't do all the preparations that I meant to, before the fair - making more stock of old pieces and perfecting the latest book - but it didn't matter. Today at least, I am going to do nothing at all.
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