Books Breathing – Diane Farris
While the previous post considers an overlooked picture I almost didn’t take, this one considers a scene I loved that became Books Breathing – and another one nearby. Right there, surrounded by the breathing books, sat a boy deeply absorbed in a video game. This image is from 2015, in Rome.
I explore images of books in an ongoing series called Volumes. (Volumes will reappear on my website, probably in a new iteration of Galleries.) These particular treasured volumes are from the library of a great friend and were being aired to deter pests. They were – to my eye – beautiful to behold, off the shelves, gathered companionably, unfurling their antiquarian pages. The nearby presence of an intently focused video gamer evoked several familiar thoughts: on the impact of our constant access to digital media, nostalgia for what may have been simpler times for children and my own preference for connecting with the people I photograph. That being said, the world has been enriched and delighted by the decisive Paris moments captured for all time by Robert Doisneau, Henri Cartier-Bresson and Willy Ronis. I also love their work that partners with the subjects, like Doisneau’s The Boy and the Dove and Cartier-Bresson’s work with Matisse (more doves!)
One of my handmade concertina books is called Book Time. I wrote in the Preface: “Our time, when print is challenged by pixels, is a fitting time to consider books, their weight and presence in our worlds. Each book is a full experience; in addition to the dense life of the writing itself, there are textures, colors, design, dimension, typefaces, papers, sound, scent and heft in the hand. Our home – and places we feel at home – is lined, stacked and piled with books. Meetings with family and friends are graced with books quoted, considered, discussed, noted, recommended and gifted. Christmas baskets and boxes are packed with the year’s favorites and “the one that made me think of you”. Departures are delayed while the right books for the journey are pondered and enfolded into hand luggage. Subjects present themselves; vision persists. Along with images of thresholds, waters, shadows, reflections, Sandhill Cranes, trees and gardens, I found I was taking pictures of books, seeking out places where they gather. These photographic reflections were becoming a series for further exploration – and to share.” (Book Time, Diane Farris, 2013)
Below are a few more book images that dwell in the Volumes series. I love seeing children engaged with books, and Museum Reader happened as a young reader was both touring and drawing in a museum with us, yet understandably determined to finish her book from Colfer’s Land of Stories series. In solidarity, young women in a nearby painting look up from their book. On a walk in St. Augustine, I asked the young woman in Beach Reader if I could photograph her reading. Of course, she said, and we exchanged emails; she subsequently connected with a friend of ours in her field of study.
Minor White said, “One should not only photograph things for what they are but for what else they are.” Essential to “what else they are” for me is connection – to the baby waving Eric Carle’s Very Hungry Caterpillar, to the young woman engaged with her book, to the friend stewarding rare books and the friend whose mirrored tray reflects the books of the generations she loves and honors – and even to the neglected encyclopedia, given years ago, a great treasure to be discovered by a beloved child. DF
Museum Reader
Beach Reader
Books Reflecting
Rome Library
The Abandoned Encyclopedia
Book Time, Handmade Concertina Book
