Snakes in the Museum

Indian Cults and Folklore at the Musée du quai Branly

Admittedly, our latest handmade book SSSS…Snake Art and Allegory is unexpected, even by our own standards. It combines a dense collection of Indian snake tales and legends with abstract – very spare – art by Ianna Andreadis, a Greek artist based in Paris. It’s co-published with the Musée du quai Branly, Paris, a museum that specializes in indigenous art and artefacts from Asia, Africa, Oceania and the Americas. The museum’s India collection evokes the myths and rituals that are part of everyday belief in India, and their publishing agenda is very select, generally connected to the artefacts in the museum.

Manasa

The story of the book SSSS…is tied up with Manasa, a cult figure of a snake goddess that is part of the museum’s collection. The piece at the Musée du quai Branly is a fierce yet frail looking form made of wood, clay, paper and pith, from the Northeastern state of Assam. The cult of Manasa dominates the folk imagination of this region, especially Bengal. It is said to have evolved in its contemporary form from an ancient pre-Hindu myth, which traces the snake goddess’ fateful desire to be worshipped in place of the great god Shiva.

SSSS… finally turned out to be more than the story of Manasa, becoming in the end an excursion into the snake cult folklore of the subcontinent. But to begin at the beginning – it all started when Tara was approached by the artist Ianna Andréadis.

ianna

“When I saw Tara’s The Night Life of Trees in 2006,” says Ianna. “l was bowled over by the book. The artwork and the screen-printing were amazing. I wanted to know more about the publishing house, so l visited their website. Then I wanted to meet the publishers, and see whether we could work on a project together. We met the same year – in London where they had an exhibition of The Night Life of Trees – and hit it off instantly. During the course of conversation the topic turned to snakes – and I was really taken with the graphic possibilities of the idea…”

The topic of snakes just came up?

“It was like this,” continues Ianna. “At that time l had started a project with the Musée du Quai Branly in Paris. The idea was to make a series of books on the subject of the four continents, each showing an artefact or a series of art pieces from the museum, as a starting point for an idea, and then linking it up to the country of its origin. I would then travel to the country in question to absorb the atmosphere, feed my inspiration and also look for the ideal publisher to co-publish the book with the museum. At the time I was working on an Aztec Bestiary, drawing Aztec pieces featuring animals at the museum in Paris, and in the Museo Nacional de Antropología in Mexico. It was later published by Petra Ediciones, my publisher in Mexico.”

51vfx68rHoL._SL500_AA240_

“So when it came to thinking about an Asian project, I began researching the Indian pieces in the museum with the idea of a project with Tara. Manasa, the snake goddess – as well as two scrolls from Patua artists in Bengal on the Manasa legend – caught my interest. That’s how our snake project evolved and everything fell into place when Gita Wolf agreed to write the text.”

The Musée du quai Branly was happy with the proposal, and Ianna began her research.

“Although I have always been close to nature, working with legends and myths was new to me. I had never been to India, so I wasn’t very familiar with Indian culture. I started by researching the iconography about snakes in Indian art, and about snakes native to India, the cobra in particular. I was very taken with the snakestones that are found near temples, specially a photograph which had been taken by friend of mine, Richard Cohen, near a temple in Kanchipuram in Tamil Nadu.”

Kanchipuram

“I wasn’t aware until then that snakes were actually worshipped. I loved the evocative simplicity of the snake stones – and the dots of red and yellow put on the stones by worshippers. This is the photo that I chose for my dialogue with Manasa. When Gita sent me her text, I was struck by the relationship of snakes to the elements – to the sea and other water bodies, to trees, to fire – and it became clear to me that I should work in that direction, to evoke these elements. Sometimes I was on the border of abstraction, but my reference point was always the elements, and the association of snakes to them.”

Of all the images, Ianna’s favourite is this one, of Vrtra the ancient serpent, lying on the tallest mountain.

Vrtra

“This image appears very simple, but it was the hardest to achieve! I worked on it for more than two weeks, and I still wasn’t satisfied. The story, in which the earliest snakes become the guardians of the four directions was full of the power of the elements – rain, lightning, thunder, the high mountains – at first I wanted to draw everything, and the results were complicated and anecdotal. Finally, when I came up with just the line of the mountains and the snakes, I was satisfied.”

The way the book was put together finally involved working together with several people across continents and despite differing time zones. It was a mixture of technologies.

“We worked closely, communicating via the internet. I sent in the scans of the images from Paris. The layout was done by Jonanthan Yamakami, Tara’s Brazilian designer in Chennai; and then Arumugam, the production manager, separated the colours on Photoshop, before taking it off to his silk-screening workshop to make the films. The book was finally hand printed and bound. It was an amazing collaboration. My favourite part was visiting Tara while the book was being printed, meeting everybody who was involved, and hunting for snakestones during the monsoon…”

DSC_0094

IMG_5968

How did the Musée du quai Branly view this first ever collaboration with an Indian publisher? We asked Muriel Rausch and Clair Morizet, in charge of the publishing program of the museum.

“Ianna Andréadis, with whom we had collaborated earlier on a project, came up with the proposal. This is the second of our set of four titles from the different continents, co-published with foreign publishers. We were very excited when Ianna brought Tara into the project – we’d heard of you before, and we’ve always loved your books. This is the first time that we’re experimenting with handmade books, and you are the perfect partner for that. This collaboration is very much within our philosophy – as a museum devoted to non-European ethnology and folklore – of dialogue between cultures. We also wanted to combine this publication with a major 2010 exhibition called “Other Masters of India”, which will present Indian popular and folk art to French audiences. We hope this gorgeous book – with its brilliant editorial concept and handsome handmade production – as well as the exhibition will offer an unknown face of contemporary India.”

Gita Wolf
Publisher

Posted in Behind the scenes | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

I Have a Right

At Bookaroo, Delhi

At the Aviva Young Scholar Bookaroo Festival in Delhi, there were many activities, talks and readings for children to choose from at any given time. So I wondered if children would choose to spend an hour and a half on something as serious as human rights. It turned out they would— ‘I Have a Right’, the workshop on human rights, was almost full.

WABFree_Ecover WABFree_cover_Tamil

The workshop was based on the book We Are All Born Free, first published by Frances Lincoln (UK) and published in India by Tara Books.

This is a marvellous picture book, which lists the Declaration of Human Rights in a simple and readable way, for children. Each article of the Declaration is accompanied by an illustration from different international illustrators which helps the child understand the right in question.

A little bit, first, about Bookaroo:  Bookaroo is an organization started by a small group of people with an interest in children’s books and literature. With the idea of bringing books closer to children, Bookaroo began India’s first children’s literature festival in November 2008. Bookaroo 2009 was held at Sanskriti Anandgram on the Mehrauli-Gurgaon Road on Nov 28 and 29. There were more than sixty events, conducted by forty-eight authors, illustrators and editors. There were talks, discussions, poetry  readings, workshops of various kinds and storytelling sessions, all targeted at children from four to fourteen years of age.

The workshop ‘I Have a Right’  was for ten-year-olds and above. There were over twenty children at the workshop. I started by asking the parents to go away, so that the children could be uninhibited when they talked about rights and freedoms. The children were then asked to think of occasions when they had thought to themselves ‘he/she had no right to do this’. The children came up with anecdotes involving teachers and monitors, which led nicely into the next segment.

We wrote down on a flipchart all the rights that we felt everyone should have. Predictably, most of them spoke about things like freedom of choice and right to education. There were some touching ones like the right to fulfil your dreams, and the right to choose your own future, which clearly came from deeply felt places. But it was interesting that no one came up with the right to food and shelter. These were middle-class children; they take these things as given.

Next the children had to ‘read’ the pictures, to get the most out of the book. There’s a notion that picture books are only for very small children. Watching these children, it struck me that children of all ages, and even adults, respond with excitement and enthusiasm to pictures.

We are All Born Free_spread1

We are All Born Free_spread2

Once they had understood the different processes by which a complex idea could be turned into a visual, I asked each child to choose a right from the ones we’d listed, and draw pictures. Many of them told stories, with speech and thought bubbles; some of the illustrations were more abstract.

Equality

Rights

Nobody have right to hurt us

Once they were done, it was evident that the children had basically understood the concept of rights.

They then wrote their own stories. One girl said that she did not want to write. They had just learnt that no one could force them to do what they did not want to do. ‘You have a right,’ I said, and let her be.

text

I noticed that a couple of the children were exercising their right to express themselves in the way they wanted, by drawing pictures again.

We had some stories read out at the end. The one that stays in my memory is a story about a black boy who was excluded from a football team because of his colour. He went on to make a team of ‘outsiders’ and they became the champions. The story ended with – ‘And the boy’s name was Pélé!’

There were many stories and pictures about deprived children and adults –of poverty and lack of access to education. This is what education should be about – making connections. Books like We are All Born Free, because of their unusual approach, help children think differently about issues that they don’t always see as relevant to their daily lives.

One never knows what and how much children take back from sessions such as these. But the sense I got was that the book and the exercises we did had got them thinking. That’s a good first step.

Anushka Ravishankar
Author, Tara Books

Posted in Events | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Warli Art and Public Education: Do! Travels to Mexico

A year ago, we were busy finalizing plans for a rather unusual picture book. Featuring art from the Warli indigenous community whose home is western India, this book was to introduce simple verbs to the very young child. Comprising line, triangle, curve and circle, Warli art is fluid, dynamic and elegant. Children relate easily to it. Do!, the book that we eventually produced, is handprinted in white on brown kraft paper – simulating original Warli art that is painted on mud walls, using lime and chalk. Each page of the book houses a verb, with all images on that page illustrating that one action.  (To watch the making of the book, click here)

Do!_cover

A month ago, Petra Ediciones, publisher friends from Mexico, wrote to say that they would like to publish Do! in Spanish and would also like to submit the book to a government library program. It appears that each year the Ministry of Public Education, Federal Government of Mexico, calls for book submissions under a book acquisition program called Bibliotecas Escolares y de Aula. A team of 32 selects titles from the submissions they receive, and the chosen ones are then sent to every public school in Mexico.

Chase!

Petra Ediciones entered Do! as a book in the kindergarten category – and sure enough, it was chosen. We learnt to our great excitement that it would be made available to children in over 90, 000 schools! We were especially gratified with the prospect of small children in a distant land looking at Do! and making sense of an art form that is at once exotic and yet perhaps curiously familiar. Here was a way in which the state primary school curriculum could be enlivened.

In 2008, we had in fact done something similar ourselves – we had developed a teachers’ resource book for the primary Tamil language classroom titled Pillaitamizh, which had been accepted into a similar program in our home state of Tamil Nadu. The Sarva Shiksha Abhiyan (SSA) or the Movement for Education for All, supported by the federal government, had acquired this book for its teachers and educators. Subsequently, we went on to work closely with them to develop a set of over 80 innovative picture books in Tamil for the 6-7 age group. We put our office library to good use – and our collection of picture books from across the world served as a valuable source of ideas and inspiration to those who worked on this project.

While working with the SSA, we were very conscious of what we could and could not do. Our skills are in the area of conceptualizing book projects, text and visual editing, and graphic design. We also invariably related a book’s core idea to the larger social world of which it is a part – calling attention to issues of history, social class and gender. So, while working with the state, we were glad to help where we could. We understood only too well the latter’s intent to put out books that answer diverse needs and address issues of social exclusion intelligently and creatively. But we realized that we could not print these books ourselves; nor produce them with the care that we bestow on all our titles. The state’s deadlines, its ambitious outreach plans and the fact that it wanted to do very large print-runs were matters that we had to build into our book projects – simplicity was the key.

Do for Blog3

This is also perhaps why Do! traveled where it did – its brilliant simplicity, the almost hieroglyphic style of Warli art that allows people across cultures to decipher its images as their own, and the fact that it links art with learning in an entirely unselfconscious way have made for its universal appeal. Now that it is in Mexico, we hope to have it accepted into the Indian school system as well.

Yet in all this, there is also much to feel poignant about. This is on account of the state of education in India and Mexico, where the hopeful things we have referred to are only small parts of a large, complex and somber picture. In Mexico too, like in India,, the state is the chief educator. Mexican children have a right to education and schooling is free for the most part. As we know from the Indian experience, the mere existence of a right does not get children into school, nor does it enable them to learn effectively – there are other factors that count, and this includes an attractive curriculum, interesting books and engaged teachers. They are as important for less privileged children as for more affluent ones. In India, we have not, until recently, paid sustained attention to these factors. Rather, teaching is often only a transfer of information, and school remains a context for shaping recalcitrant and often rebellious children into rigid obedience. Unsurprisingly, schools do not pay attention to or work with a child’s needs – sensory education is neglected, a child’s kinesthetic talents are ignored, and rote learning is routinely encouraged.  Also, given that Indian society is unequal and socially unjust, school becomes a place where children from poorer and less privileged homes are ‘taught’ their place. In Mexico, it would seem, the issues have been much the same.

In both places the problem of creating pedagogic models which take into account the diverse and often unjust worlds – that most children who go to public schools come from – remains to be solved. Debates about the medium of instruction at the school level, whether it ought to be English, or the national language Hindi, or the regional language have long haunted our public sphere. In Mexico, this debate also has to reckon with the presence of large indigenous communities that do not speak Spanish, and who, like the adivasis or original settlers of India, are poor, exploited, and often overlooked. Not being able to speak one’s language in the classroom or read textbooks that reflect their lives and worlds have kept adivasi children away from state schools in India. This appears true of Mexico as well.

On the other hand, active communities have come up with solutions where the state has failed. In Mexico’s south, in the province of Chiapas, indigenous communities under the leadership of the insurgent Zapatistas have evolved curricula in various native languages – drawing on their own traditions of art, mythology, and craft – which enable children to make critical sense of their present lives. In central India too, where such insurgent struggles are afoot, schools that address adivasi cultures and needs have come up. And here, folk memory, art, and fiction provide much of the content of the curriculum; apart from maths, science and the social sciences, these form the core of what children are taught to value.

Looked at in this context, Do! fits right in. It was all the more gratifying to learn that the book will appear in a bilingual edition in Mexico – in Spanish and Nahuatl, a native language.

V. Geetha
Director & Editor, Tara Books

Posted in News | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

Comics from China

At the Frankfurt Book Fair 2009

Tara has visited the Frankfurt Book Fair every year in our 15 year history. Much has changed and progressed in this time, but the five days in the bustling fair halls continue to remain an important fixture in our calendar. For all the intensive preparation (juggling appointments and getting dummies ready on time) and the frenetic rushing around between meetings at the fair, it’s always been exciting and rewarding to be where the publishing world comes together. Frankfurt is much more than a trade fair where business is transacted. It’s a hub of activity, a once-a-year chance to catch up with old friends and meet new publishing partners.

Picture_Blog_ARUN

Roberto Calasso, the Italian writer and publisher at Tara Books' Frankfurt stall in 2001

Tara Books, 2009

Tara Books with Iranian publisher friends at Frankfurt, 2009

We’re pleased to say that the talk of digital publishing taking over from the printed word, and the fears of a global recession dampening spirits and tightening purse-strings have, for the most part, passed us by. At least, they haven’t materialized in a big way in the world of small independent publishing that we operate in. At this year’s fair Tara continued where it left off – abiding by our notion of the book as an enduring cultural icon.

We had two new directions to announce: our Indian street photography series, and an unusual list of graphic novels – with Patua scroll painters from Bengal. Over the year, Tara has been working on nudging these traditional Indian narrative scrolls in the direction of contemporary graphic novels. They are more than halfway there, to begin with, and our project has taken us to unexpected places, to say the least.

The Flag

The Flag, Ed. by M. Lakshmanan

Sita's Ramayana

Sita's Ramayana - Written by Samhita Arni, Illustrated by Moyna Chitrakar

Sita's Ramayana

Sita's Ramayana - Written by Samhita Arni, Illustrated by Moyna Chitrakar

So unusual graphic novels are of particular interest to us, and at Frankfurt this year we were intrigued by a form we had never come across before: the Manhua, from China (this is the Chinese word for Manga that literally translates to ‘funny pictures’). As the guest of honour at Frankfurt 2009, China had a whole range of special exhibits. A great example of this was an exhibition at the jam-packed Comics Centre in Hall 3.0, called ‘Beijing – Ten Faces of One City’, which showcased enlarged illustrations by ten Manhua artists.

Manhua Art

Manhua has taken China by storm in the last few years, and approximately 3 million titles are sold every month. Hardly a coincidence, as the introduction to the exhibition points out – Mandarin is a highly visual and symbolic language. Manhua isn’t just derived from the Japanese Manga; China has its own comic tradition that can be traced back to the 1880s. At the time, black and white booklets known as ‘Lianhuanhua’ told stories through pictures that were accompanied by explanatory captions and were sold at low prices by street vendors. These stories were later used to instruct Chinese people on how they ought to think and behave. The Chinese comics scene has come a long way from this religious and political propaganda, with modern Manhua artists’ interest in representing how people actually live and think.

manhua

Song Yang’s ‘The People of Peking’

Some of the works on display were straight-up rebellious while others were thoughtful reflections. All of them provided unusual and visually stunning impressions of Bejiing and insights into the dynamic private lives of its residents. These stylistically diverse impressions of China’s capital city touched upon themes ranging from the transformation of the old-city, through environmental problems, to the difficulties of growing up in China today. A personal favourite was a spread from Song Yang’s ‘The People of Peking’ that depicts, with exquisite intricate illustrations, the lives of a homeless man and a pavement cobbler who doubles-up as a bicycle repair man. Unwittingly or otherwise, this showed a face of China that the official line was not keen to focus on.

Everyday life in China and the travails of the average Chinese person were not intended to be part of the official projection, but thankfully, there was enough room for them at the fair, away from the pomp and ceremony of the official delegation or the grand, if abstract, cause of freedom and democracy championed by the international press.

Close by in Hall 6.0, at the official China exhibit, the aisles were more or less desolate. It appears that giving this platform to China has turned the spotlight onto things - unpleasant and uncomfortable things - that the Chinese government is keen on sweeping under the carpet.

Frankfurt ‘09 fair was full of book readings, film screenings, and exhibitions that told of the joys and hardships of normal Chinese people, going about their lives and dealing with being hemmed in by the politics and traditions of their nation.

In a sense, the Manhua exhibition encompassed neatly the controversy around China’s appearance as the Guest of Honour at this year’s fair. The big din had to do with the media eager to take the fair’s organisers to task for providing a country with an appalling human rights and freedom of expression record such an important platform. Interestingly, by the end of the fair, a number of skeptics had changed their minds. It was precisely the issues and people that the Chinese government chose to censor or ignore – including persecuted dissident authors and Tibetan freedom – that became most visible. At the very least, viewers left with some valuable insight into the subversive potential of genuine literature. It is at least the beginning of dialogue, and some dialogue is always better than none.

Arun Wolf
(Projects Coordinator, Tara Books)

Posted in Events | 2 Comments

Thoughts from Russia

Reflections after the Moscow Book Fair, ‘09

When I was invited to be part of the Indian delegation to the Moscow Book Fair last month, the ghost of an old love stirred again…and I thought once more about the wonderful Soviet books that I had read as a child.

IMG_1892 IMG_1946

Cheap and widely available when I was growing up in the 1960s, they remained a staple in Indian children’s fare until well into the 1990s. They stood out because nothing quite like that was available elsewhere – combining the Russian genius for storytelling with such quirky art and design. Not that these details registered with me as a child reader. It was just that even without understanding all the parts to their fullest extent, the impression the books left on me was a deep one. When I started Tara in 1994 – looking to create something unlike the existing children’s literature around me – Soviet children’s books were a great inspiration.

IMG_7783 IMG_7794

I have been reflecting on their entirely unique – and in many ways radical – nature, and I find that most Western and post-Soviet Russian critics tend to dismiss this literature too quickly as mere propaganda. True, the huge Soviet publishing industry was entirely subsidised by the government, and they did keep a sharp eye out for what was being put out. But children’s literature enjoyed a very special place, with privileges not granted to other cultural output. Not that it was considered unimportant – on the contrary, it appears to have been a crucial part of the official publishing agenda – but what mattered was the freedom to be lighthearted. From the start, children’s literature had to entertain as much as it had to educate, and this meant that the creators were granted the freedom to be playful and experimental. The party line towards children’s literature was the subject of much debate, from as early as the 1920s. It was in 1934 that an important decision was made – to grant folktales the official seal of approval. This meant that old stories could now be re-interpreted, and a host of wonderful writers from the past restored. Pushkin’s fairy tales were printed in millions of copies, and I remember owning several versions.

IMG_7782

Fairy tales had another unsettling aspect which was now tolerated: the enchantment of magic. This implied a serious break from the official realist culture that the party endorsed, but it was nonetheless condoned. So from nonsense verse to folk myth – creators of children’s literature had a wide palette of forms to experiment with, even in the heyday of Soviet rule. And many dissident writers and artists did use children’s literature subversively, which meant that such books were really meant for all ages. It gave them a sophisticated edge that other children’s literature did not have, at the time. My favourite edition of Alice in Wonderland is an extraordinarily illustrated Soviet version from the 1980s, in an unusually tall and narrow format. I can see contemporary marketing managers shaking their heads sorrowfully – certainly the book would be hard to sell in – but then, Soviet books didn’t have to worry about appealing to a market. It was one of their greatest advantages.

IMG_7788 IMG_7787

For the rest, they had a glorious tradition not only of storytelling, but also of the visual arts. Again, the best children’s book illustration looked back at tradition, combining it in surprising ways with modern developments in the arts. Classic children’s book art – like those of the master illustrator Ivan Biblin – had its roots in the late 19th century, when decorative elements from folk art were put together with evolving forms of modernist painting into a very distinct aesthetic. In the following decades, other major development in art and design – especially in the graphic arts and film – were reflected in very creative ways in children’s literature.

IMG_7798

So what happened to this unique culture of the children’s book after the collapse of the Soviet Union? Many of my favourite books had been from the Baltic region, which were obviously no longer a part of post-Soviet Russia. The other publishing houses that I was familiar with – like Progress and Raduga – also no longer existed. Publishers I spoke to at the Moscow book fair said that sadly, very little of the Soviet inheritance was left. Writers and artists from Soviet times had other jobs, and almost all the publishing houses had collapsed. After the breakup of the Soviet Union, Russian publishing had put out very little original children’s literature. The 1990s had been dominated by translations from other countries. This was in itself not a bad development, since such literature had not been freely available earlier. But it had all been put out in such a hurry that the translations were more often than not of poor quality. There was another positive development though, and that was the reinstation of several pre-revolutionary writers, who had been banned earlier for political reasons. So there were some good developments, but in spite of everything, the overall situation was depressing: there were just a handful of children’s book publishers left in Russia. For me, the saddest part was the tentative impression they made – a rawness and immaturity I would expect from a fledgeling industry, not from the heirs of one of the most formidable publishing empires of the twentieth century. They really had joined the rest of the publishing world, in which all of us are struggling to survive in a market where success is defined by numbers sold.

IMG_1931-1

In a deeper sense, this tied in with the general impression I had from my trip to Russia, which continues to trouble me: I felt that in their eagerness to shrug off the years of Soviet history, they had given up a creative – or even productively critical – engagement with the recent past.

Gita Wolf
Publisher, Tara Books

Posted in Events | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Abiding by the book

Welcome to Tara Books’ blog – where we hope to bring you news from the editorial desk, previews of work in progress, interviews with illustrators and authors, reflections on the book and the arts and on curious yet delectable topics such as type, the shape of a page, printing on paper made from banana fibre, working an old, elegant Czech-made letter press machine to our own purpose…

Tara Books turns fifteen this year. Its been a rich though sometimes perilous journey – unforced errors, mistaken judgment, moments of publishing grace and intuition which brought us unexpected happiness… Recently, I was reminded of how far we have traveled by a news story that featured Tara in the Toronto-based Globe and Mail. The story recalled Tara’s association with Canadian publishers, which is an old one, as old as us, in fact. A Canadian edition of our very first book, Mala: a Women’s Folktale was published by Annick Press. Annick also went on to do our first handmade book, The Very Hungry Lion.

The making of The Hungry Lion

We have since become part of a small group of independent publishers who continue to hold their own in the fiercely competitive world of global publishing. Whether in Europe, East Asia or in South America, each of us cherishes and nurtures a distinctive sense of the book. We will speak more of these unique publishing houses on this blog, but for now I would like to acknowledge them as part of our book world. For all of us in Tara, the book as we never tire of saying is a revered and loved cultural object. I for one can never look at a book, without thinking of the fascinating history – of print, dissent and democracy – that has ensured its survival. I think too of its quietness, of how it sits in its own repose, till you the reader are ready for it. How often have we all bought books that we don’t read, until a chance phrase or persistent thought pushes us to unpack a long forgotten shelf.

Yet it is not simply that I or others at Tara feel sentimental about the book. Often we have felt that its doughty presence asks something more of us. Several years ago, Rathna Ramanathan who defined Tara’s design philosophy told us that ‘the idea of the book as we know it should and must change’. She was intrigued by the book’s formal resilience, its design grammar and desired to push its limits. The shape of a page, the relationship of type to content, content to image, cover to inner pages, the markings on its spine: Rathna made us see the book as something that is crafted, put together out of a disparate set of elements linked through usage and history. She wanted to brush this history against its grain, through a radical use of type and colour, innovations in printing and binding, and the choice of paper. Thanks to her, we see printing and binding as aesthetic labour, every bit as important to the book’s life, as the text or the pictures.

Pictures do more: they persuade us to look again at what we habitually miss. I remember how it was when To Market, To Market, Tara’ picture book of a girl’s sojourn in a regular weekly market arrived, hot off the press. I have been to several markets, I know their din, the play of colour and darkness that greet you. But obviously like most adults I have stopped looking. The book returned the market to me as an enchanted place. Commerce and the clink of money disappeared momentarily as I re-discovered in Emanuele Scanziani’s pictures, the poetry of everyday objects, of mirrors, ribbons, bangles, buckets, brooms… Other artists have drawn us into other ways of seeing, and we will see just how in subsequent entries.

One of our earliest books: Picturing Words & Reading Pictures

As much as design, illustration has remained one of Tara’s important concerns. Gita Wolf, publisher wrote a book more than a decade ago, which I consider a Tara classic: Picturing Words and Reading Pictures. This book emerged out of a workshop with illustrators and went on to argue for the importance of pictures in books, and not only in those for children. Today Tara has developed picture books for adults – adapting the painted page to the needs of narrative fiction and political argument. An illustrator for Tara does not merely ‘add’ to the text. She responds to it, sometimes in visual shorthand, at other times through the use of evocative colours. Others narrate through pictures, and the text takes its cue from them. Some artists even begin a new tale in an illustration, quite apart from what they set out to narrate. The possibilities are endless and for writers who are used to regarding the word as primary, the world of pictures holds a thousand surprises and lessons.

There are many things to write of than may be imaginable in a book blog, including the travails of shipping books across the world from a hot and dusty port, used more to taking out coal-dust and bleached cotton. But for now, I would like to end by returning to what I started out with: the Globe and Mail article. I and my colleagues were touched and gratified that nearly sixty readers from Canada and the United States of America, who had heard of us for the first time from reading that feature got in touch with us. Warmly appreciative, curious, supportive, wanting to know more about our books, asking to buy some of them: we were frankly surprised by this outburst of critical affection. Yet once more we felt reassured in what we had chosen as our vocation: abiding by the book.

VG, Editor and Director, Tara Books

Posted in General | 1 Comment