To Be Read
Black Objects at The Printed Matter Art Book Fair
To Be Read is a column where I share the books, threads, and other thing I can’t wait to get into. Check it out below.
This weekend I had the fortunate pleasure of going to the Printed Matter Art Book Fair. It was a four-day fete of paper, and art, and literature, zines and all kinds of small and indie presses. I live! The scene was maddem, pure chaos, packed in a way that didn’t exist in the Before Times. I think there’s this urgency around art and material culture that allows people to escape from the merciless days that we call our collective now.
I was completely unprepared as we walked the Chelsea neighborhood street heading west on the sunny sidewalk. Fall Saturdays in New York City are usually lit, a respite from the sticky, stinky agonizing heat of the summer, but this was a scene. A percussion band, all middled-age women (or those at least those who appeared to be) of varying skin tones and body compositions tapped out an unfamiliar rhythm. A multicultural group of young millennials dished out plates of very fragrant food hidden inside of foil pans hoisted onto sternos. A tornado of small children crafted in the street that had been closed off to car traffic. A lone reader spoke into a mic to the audience of people waiting in line. That was kind of sad. People rushed in and out of Pace Prints’ newest gallery space, where [PLUG] the most incredible visual artist, Nina Chanel Abney’s show Framily Ties is currently up, go see it.
Hundreds of people stood in line, lines stretching in both directions with people eager to have a look. The crowd ruined whatever fantasy I had imagined; one gleaned from casually browsing the dense shelves in the Printed Matter store, with plenty of room to breathe, to roam, to find a minute to just judge a book by its cover, and then scan a few pages inside.
It was giving Scholastic Book fair on poppers, with Steve Lacy as the soundtrack. Cute! My strategy once we made our way past the line to the front was to identify all the exhibitors that were Black, Of Color and queer forward. Dressed in all black, with my signature leopard print clogs, my wide brimmed hatted companion and I took turns helping people get out of the way. I tried to make as much masked eye contact with the colored folks as we squeezed through the aisles of book sellers and book lovers.
Luckily, on a hunch from the good homie, and visual artist, AK Jenkins, we found our way to Cassandra Press. And it was worth it, more on that in just a minute. Our journey to that booth yielded some wonderful finds on the way. Check out the latest additions to my To Be Read pile below!
I have recently just learned of pioneering Afro Brazilian and Pan Africanist visual artist, playwright and political figure, Abdais Nascimento. This book found me at the Archive Books table.
The Pegacorn Press table was crowded with Black queers, so I rushed over and grabbed this incredible reproduction of the one act play that centers two of my favorite themes, Bars and Dykes. The play, penned by Merril Mushroom is written about the lesbian bar scene in the 1950s. The story of the shrinking visibility of bars for women who love women is now being narrated by queer archivists and storytellers, this was so timely. Sadly, not Black but hella queer.
A regal looking Black woman, wearing a matte shade of very red lipstick stood smiling on the fourth floor of the book fair, so I went right up to her.
“Did you write this?”
“Yes, in a collaboration.”
I love visual works, books with thick paper and saturated images are an aspiration of mine, this was an easy sell, and though the text was the priciest thing purchased that day, well worth it. The woman I spoke to (the writer) is based in France but is from Cameroon, the photographer another woman from Africa, is from Togo. I love to see avant garde works of literature coming from International Black writers, I’ll probably read this sooner than later. They have a Tumblr (I know right?) where you can find more of their art books.
Just in time for my spooky season fixation of things rendered beautifully creepily, we found our way to Jamiyla Lowe’s table and these awesome illustrated books. I got one, and my companion got the other, and yet, both are in my house. It’s so rare to see a ghost, ghouls and creatures rendered ethnically, and i’m obsessed. Check out more by the Canadian-born artist on their instagram.
I want to take a break here to talk about my love of Zine culture. As a young person living in the East Village of NYC in the early aughts, I became politicized by reading Xerox copied zines. Many were small booklets that were composed of curated sections or an excerpt from a text that functioned as a pamphlet for radicalization. Zine, zine making and the radical act of book making and sharing knowledge for free is something that drives my love of reading. There’s something to celebrate in accessing critical thought and political ideas in one document.
When we made our way down the packed staircase to the third floor of the fair, we saw the Cassandra Press table, and I immediately knew that we were in the right place at the right time. And luckily for us, the owner, artist Kandis Williams was there.
Each of these readers is a mix of texts from the academy and popular culture, books, essays, websites, all painstakingly (at least I imagine) compiled by the owner of the press. These are very much giving encyclopedia, and I’ve been wanted to have some at home references for a lot things I think and write about. I had been circling around some of them for months at Printed Matter and I’m glad I own them now. The satirical take on the covers is much appreciated too. In addition to this reader we now have Readers on Reparations, The Chitlin Circuit and Black Journalism. Highly recommend.
I try to read this once a year, and I’m happy to have a physical copy printed by a Black press.
As we prepared to leave the venue, and waited for the elevator, something caught my eye, and luckily I was able to snag this coffee table book that I’ve been wanting since it’s publishing in 2019.
The day I purchased this book was on the eve of the final performance of the season of the New York City Ballet, which includes a performance scored by Solange. It was auspicious because we were slated to see it. Sadly we didn’t, but at least I have this hold me down until May 2023, when it returns.
I love books, and I hope you do. My wish is to read all these delicious books before the year is over, but who knows!
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Loved this! Thank you for taking us through your experience—also enjoyed the photos of all the covers. Looking forward to more of the To Be Read column!
A consistently wonderful and real ass read and now more spoils with book recommendations..I have to find Bar Dykes‼️