Maps: Fields, Paths, Forests, Blocks, Places, and Surrounds drawn by Nigel Peake

I've been watching the work of illustrator Nigel Peake for a little while now--I've previously written on here about his Ghost Houses and one of his zines. This short collection of drawings is themed on maps, which I'm particularly interested in--though Peake's maps are not the typical kind.

From the book: "Documenting small time adventures and excursions outwith a mile radius from where I call home. From train rides facing backwards, to crammed bus rides in tiny hill-top towns, to bike rides through the backyards of Europe. Records of the vast, unyielding concrete miles of Shanghai, to the paths between mountains and forests in late night French countryside to the old paint splattered wooden floor in London that I sleep on from time to time. In addition to this there are also some imaginings of possible places - cities built from train tunnels and underground arches to invisible concrete cities."

I love the illustrations, the different interpretations of maps, the watercolor lettering, the colors.

"What makes Nigel's maps so beguiling is the delicate poise between politics and imagination. Each map, he says, is a 'fictional reality.'" (From an essay in the middle of the book)

The Dwindling Party by Edward Gorey

I gave this book to Dave for Christmas a few years ago. It tells the unfortunate tale of the MacFizzet family, who one by one disappear during a visit to Hickyacket Hall. The best part of the book, after the Edward Gorey illustrations, is the fact that it is a pop-up book, with monsters and structures practically leaping out of the pages. It's very sadly out of print, but hopefully this will be corrected soon!

All My Friends Are Dead by Avery Monsen and Jory John

Dave gave this to me as a stocking stuffer for Christmas because it reminded him of the dinosaurs we visited about a month ago. It's a tiny little book, perfectly sized for the aforementioned purpose.

It takes about two minutes to read, but it is a two minute roller coaster ride of hilarity. (Sorry for the lame description.) The back of the book describes it as the "saddest funny book you'll ever read", which is pretty true. At every page I find myself laughing and "ohhh"ing at the same time. See below...




I like the dinosaur end papers.

The Books by Raymond Pettibon

This book collects the zines and artists books that Raymond Pettibon made between 1978 and 1998, encompassing his early days drawing flyers and record covers for L.A. punk bands, to the recent past, by which time he'd been accepted into the art world, showing at galleries and world-renowned museums.

The book is pretty thick--about two inches.




Consisting entirely of black and white pen and ink drawings (with a few black and white xeroxes thrown in), Pettibon's imagery is dark and violent, but with a sick sense of humor. I've erred a little more on the conservative side with choosing images for this post (never know who might be looking at it...). Unfortunately the book is pretty hard to come by at this point but if you can get a copy of it I highly recommend it!

Blackstock's Collections by Gregory L. Blackstock

This is a collection of drawings by a retired dishwasher from Seattle, known for playing his accordion around town, who is also an artistic savant. His work consists of detailed drawings of objects, animals, and vegetables, each page devoted to the many varieties of each item.

From shoes (on the back),

to insects,

to tools, to plants, knots, instruments, fish, and the like, Blackstock's incredible undertaking of cataloging the minutiae of everyday objects is reminiscent of old field guides or biology books. His "visual lists" are not necessarily interesting simply because he is autistic, nor is his autism the driving force of his work--the drawings have a simple beauty all their own, and the dictionary-like quality is also kind of appealing.

The inside cover and flaps on each side feature handwritten soup recipes, of all things. I'm not sure how I feel about pineapple and cream of peach soup, but I like the sentiment all the same.

The Selected Works of T. S. Spivet by Reif Larsen

In The Selected Works of T. S. Spivet, a 12-year-old genius cartographer receives a phone call from the Smithsonian announcing that he has won a prestigious award, inviting him to travel out to Washington to receive it at a gala event. They of course do not realize that T. S. is 12 years old, nor do his parents know he has secretly submitted his work to the Smithsonian. So he sets out at dawn to travel across the country from his home in Montana via freight train, hobo style.

As far as the story goes, it's not bad--a little too precocious and quirky for precocious- and quirkiness' sake. I can't say I didn't enjoy reading it, but what sets it apart are the visuals. For starters, I love the style of the cover. Pictured above and below are the objects T. S. has brought along with him on his journey, presented as though mounted in a museum exhibit.


Then you open the book. The first couple of pages are filled to the edges with this textured drawing. A smear of ink, a postmark, maybe the patterns on the inside of an envelope. And of course the hobo hotline (but I'll let you find out what that is on your own).


But the best part is T.S.'s maps, which fill the margins throughout the book. Some of them are a bit more on the convential side (the Yuma Bat Map, for instance).


But most of them are mapping out things like the act of shucking corn,


or facial expressions,
or the sounds heard on a freight train.

I love maps of any kind, so the illustrations--all of which were done by the talented Ben Gibson, who I had the privilege of working with until recently--are what really made this book for me.

The gold sparrow on the cover beneath the dust jacket is pretty nice (the color didn't really scan that well).

The Gigantic Robot by Tom Gauld

I saw this book out on a table at Atomic Books in Baltimore and knew I had to buy it for a number of reasons: the rounded corners, the thick pages, the simple black and white line drawings, and even simpler, yet darkly funny story. And of course the gigantic robot of the title.

How to Prepare Artwork for Letterpress and Lithography

I picked up this pamphlet at an estate sale last summer. The woman who it belonged to was an artist, and she had so many wonderful books and furniture and things that I almost hated to take anything (okay, not really). While I'm not sure that I'll put this instructional brochure to practical use, I was quite taken by the illustrations found within. And who knows, perhaps one day I'll learn how to use a letterpress.

Most of the interior pages are this nice combo of black, white, and blue,

with a mixture of photographs and illustrations.

Then there is this lovely line drawing of a printing studio superimposed with blocks of bright colors on the inside back cover.

More blocks of colors on the back.

The Best of LCD: The Art and Writing of WFMU, Edited by Dave the Spazz

This is a collection of covers, articles, comics, and more, from the pages of LCD (Least Common Denominator), WFMU's program guide. LCD's print run was from 1986 to 1998, and served as a visual supplement to the station's eccentric programming.

The book is brimming with creativity and energy, each page filled with drawings and comics. Even the weekly schedules were works of art.

A sampling of LCD's colorful cover art. I love the LSD-inspired one above--I remember my mother warning me against taking tiny pictures of cartoon characters from strangers (even though I had no idea what acid was at the time), probably right around when this was drawn.

The articles themselves are pretty entertaining, covering such topics as song poem artist Rodd Keith,

fictional stand-up comedian Neil Hamburger, the true identity of Ernie Bushmiller's "Nancy," an appreciation of flexi-discs, anti-rock n roll books, the Kennedy assassination, and so on.

And then of course are the comics, with contributions from some of my favorites (Tony Millionaire, Peter Bagge, Daniel Clowes, Charles Burns, Kaz, Joe Sacco, etc),

as well as from some who I've never heard of. Michael Dougan, for example. I really like his above drawing of Little Richard. Great stuff!