Collecting: Between the Covers

By: John Dorfman

January 2008

It is to an art dealer, rather than an artist or an author, that we owe the phenomenon of the modern artist’s book. Back in 1895, Ambroise Vollard had only recently arrived in Paris and begun representing artists such as Cézanne and Renoir. "Strolling along the quays," he recalled in his memoirs, "I dipped one day into the books in a second-hand dealer’s box. On the title-page of a fine octavo I read: Ambroise Firmin-Didot, éditeur." That got him thinking: "Ambroise Vollard, éditeur … that wouldn’t look bad, either."

Soon, he wrote, "my only remaining hesitation was whether to publish prose or verse." He settled on verse and chose a work by Paul Verlaine, whom he considered to be the greatest living French poet. Vollard’s stroke of genius was to pick as illustrator not an established commercial engraver, as would have been customary, but one of his growing stable of young artists. The assignment went to Pierre Bonnard, who thus became the first of Vollard’s peintres-graveurs—that is, serious painters whom the dealer encouraged to experiment with printmaking techniques (or, to put it another way, virtual slaves that the wily dealer put to hard labor in the back rooms of his gallery).
 
The resulting book, Parallèlement, came out in 1896, unfortunately just after Verlaine died. While experts can and do quibble, this small volume, with its 110 lithographs rendered in ethereal pale red surrounding the text, is generally accounted the first "artist’s book."

Of course, illustrated books have existed since ancient times (the Egyptian Book of the Dead, Maya codices, medieval illuminated manuscripts), and printed books with printed pictures date back to the 15th century. In 1499, the Venetian publisher Aldus Manutius brought out the bizarre and beautiful I (The Strife of Love in a Dream), with delicate woodcuts that dance in and out of the text blocks.

Nonetheless, when collectors say "artist’s book" they mean a deluxe limited edition (a few hundred copies or less) illustrated with prints of some kind by a recognized modern artist. The classic period extends into the 1950s, after which the contemporary phase begins, with a whole new approach and aesthetic.

Vollard was followed by other publishers who expanded the concept and generally brought their books to press with far fewer delays and mishaps than he did. Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler, another legendary Parisian dealer, commissioned books from Georges Braque and André Derain, among others, and starting in the 1930s, a Swiss publisher, Albert Skira, brought a new level of professionalism to the concept. His first book, which came out in 1931, was a French translation of Ovid’s poetic summary of classical mythology, the Metamorphoses, with a suite of etchings by Pablo Picasso that captured the shape-shifting quality of the Greek gods and heroes in a simple, clean-lined style.

In 1934 the Greek-born French publisher known as Tériade (Stratis Eleftheriadis) brought the Surrealist aesthetic to the genre with Salvador Dalí’s illustrated edition of Les Chants de Maldoror by the so-called "Count" de Leautréamont and in 1947 brought out one of the very greatest artist’s books, Henri Matisse’s Jazz. Executed in brilliant tropical colors using a stencil technique called pochoir, based on Matisse’s paper cutout, this was the first book fully conceived by the artist; Matisse even wrote the text and hand-lettered it. Previous artist’s books had more reflected the desires of the publisher to create an expensive edition of a favored text, which in many cases the artist had little or no interest in—Picasso never even read the Metamorphoses before doing his etchings. The illustrations frequently had only the most tangential relationship to the text at hand, and today collectors value such books almost entirely for their pictures. In fact, observes New York dealer Peter Kraus, co-owner of Ursus Books, artist’s books are one of the least expensive ways to obtain works by modern masters whose productions in other media are now completely out of reach to all but the luckiest among the wealthiest. "Unlike most fields, you can still do it," says Kraus. "The greatest books are available, and they’re unbelievably cheap considering what’s in them. Even if you had the money you couldn’t get the greatest Picasso cubist painting, but you can get the greatest Picasso cubist book."

The books at the high end of the market sell for about $40,000 to about $75,000, while a super-rare complete copy of Jazz could fetch in the multi-hundreds of thousands if it came up. Kraus recently sold a Picasso Metamorphoses for $85,000. Among the factors that increase price are artist’s signatures, special paper and bindings. French collectors in particular favor elaborate decorative leather bindings, which can add greatly to the cost, while American collectors tend to be more interested in the book itself.

Kraus is quick to point out that a very good collection of artist’s books could be put together without spending more than $5,000 on any one volume. Robert Flynn Johnson, curator emeritus of the Achenbach Foundation collection of works on paper in San Francisco, agrees, and insists that "dollar for dollar, the greatest livre d’artiste of the century is Fernand Léger’s ‘La Fin du Monde.’" Published in 1919, this absurdist war satire by Blaise Cendrars had boldly modernist emblems and illustrations by Léger—who was then very early in his career—printed from line blocks and colored by pochoir. The artist also designed the typography, which contributes to the aesthetic unity of the book. "Today, a Léger constructivist painting will cost you $20 million, a drawing $1.5 million," says Johnson. "For $5,000 to $6,000, the book gives you all the energy, creativity and originality of 1919 Léger."

Auctions can be a source for artist’s books; Christie’s Paris in particular. Generally, the books are sold in print sales rather than book sales, because the print market is stronger than the book market. That fact also encourages the breaking up of books so the individual prints can be sold piecemeal, yielding far greater value than they would have if left intact. "Nine out of 10 copies of Jazz get turned into instant wallpaper," laments Kraus. "This is last moment in history when these things are still available. They’re not going to be around forever."

Ars Libri Ltd.
617.357.5212 arslibri.com

Christie’s Paris
011.33.1.40.76.85.85 christies.com

Swann Auction Galleries
212.254.4710 swanngalleries.com

Ursus Books and Prints, New York
212.772.8787 ursusbooks.com