Author: Becky Luening

What is Book Arts?

As a fine artist, I first discovered and developed an interest in Book Arts in the mid-1990s. Books historically are highly designed objects. Traditional book craft offers many avenues for exploration—calligraphy, illuminated texts, letterpress printing, typography, leather work, marbling, fore-edge painting, ancient binding methods, miniatures, and more. Modern Book Arts incorporates inventive structures like pop-ups, creative rifts on sewn and hinged bindings, explorations in non-traditional materials, and altered books, among other innovations.

In recent decades, the field of Book Arts blossomed with flip books, pop-ups, carousels, and other folded-paper structures devised by artist-innovators like Hedi Kyle, who came up with the “flag book,” the “blizzard book,” and the “crown book,” all variations that begin with an accordion fold. I love playing with and improvising on these fun structures, and I love the fact that, along with text, virtually any two-dimensional artwork can be incorporated into a book: photography, collage, letterpress, painting and drawing, not to mention surface decoration of all kinds.

One of the things that appeals to me about this art form is its multidimensional nature. A book is essentially a three-dimensional container for a collection of two-dimensional pages, and each page can be considered a container for words and/or a canvas for visual expression. In my Book Arts practice, I strive to bring all the elements of a book (or book-like object)—text, visuals, form, and structure—into harmony with the idea or emotion it is meant to express.

Ode to the icosahedron

My discovery of this 3D origami structure was pure serendipity. Folding instructions were included in a package of origami paper I purchased long ago.

I was blown away by the discovery that you can fold a regular triangle from a square of paper. And further, that every edge of the resulting triangle conceals a pocket, making it very easy to assemble a regular icosahedron, one of the five regular Platonic solids. All you need is 20 origami triangles, and 30 connecting pieces folded from squares a quarter of the size of that used for the triangles. I use double-stick tape to secure the joints, and voila!

When I first discovered this form, I made one for myself, and I folded and gave some away on occasion. I gifted a multi-colored miniature icosahedron to a kind teacher-mentor, and an over-sized one made from topographical maps to a nephew. They make delightful gifts, fun to handle and easier to display than 2D art.

A few years ago, I experimented with designing and printing my own custom origami paper, making a geometrical pattern that would be centered in the folded triangle, resulting in the icosahedron used as a background image in my website sidebar (or top bar, if you are looking at this on a handheld gadget). That one made it into a special “Chasing Paper” exhibit at the 2016 Lake Oswego Festival of the Arts.

Making these origami objects, for me, was just an occasional thing, until last summer (2018), when I began a folding frenzy that is ongoing, resulting in many icosahedrons of various colors and patterns, some made with commercial origami paper, and some with recycled calendars and other stockpiled materials. As my collection grew, I found myself giving more away, including as appreciation gifts to my haircutter, Lou Lou, at Salon Mojo (in the featured image above, folded from Ralph Lauren wallpaper samples), and to Harka Architecture, the firm that designed my ADU project (in the Harka office photo below—see if you can spot it).

According to Wikipedia, the regular icosahedron is a symbol of the element of water; it represents movement, flow and change. It makes sense that I would gravitate to this form at a time in my life when change seems to be the only constant. Indeed, I think folding and assembling these geometric balls is a form of meditation that helps me navigate change.

I look forward to experimenting more with custom patterns and unusual materials, as I continue to “go with the flow.” And I look forward to teaching others this fold, in my new role as art facilitator.