I
MAKE STUFF
Ramona Barry and Rebecca Jobson
Volume One, 2009
p.52–57
Gracia Haby & Louise Jennison: Double Vision
Simpatico is perhaps a good word to describe the collaborative process
between Gracia and Louise. To the outsider the line is very blurred
as to where one begins and the other ends. Perhaps
it is easier to think of them as a left and right hand of the same body.
What we get are glimpses into a imaginative and almost literary world
steeped in historical investigation, kitsch nostalgia and a touch of
mystery. Their collage collabs make us recall Coles Funny Picture Books
and Girls and Boys Own Adventure Annuals. They lay cryptic clues for
you to crack a password into their secret world.
The Stuff You Make:
We make all sorts of stuff though, for the main, it is fair to say that
we make stuff on and with paper. Whilst some of the many things that
constitute our handmade stuff is made with fabric, needle and thread,
it is the stuff on and with paper that truly lays claim to the biggest
slice of our hearts. Over the years, paper has become our chief medium
of choice to work with. Adaptable, flexible, able to be folded, cut
into, printed on and glued, we favour making stuff on a paper support.
An ideal base for both collage and watercolour and drawing, our collaborative
limited edition artists’ books, lithographic offset prints, bound
zines, hammer & daisy greeting cards, postcards and journals
all stem from a love of paper; that beloved by many material manufactured
in thin sheets from the pulp of wood or other fibrous substances.
Stuff made as hammer & daisy
Greeting cards & postcards; owl & bird pinnies; A7 scribbler;
square knot & concertina journals; A6 fabric journal pouches &
pencil cases
(Thelma's felt pins & Thelma's stuffies by Elaine
Haby)
Stuff made as Gracia & Louise
Artists’ books; works on paper; zines
When did you start making stuff?
The two of us started making stuff probably before we knew what stuff
was. Given but a few gleaned objects—a pair of scissors, a rubber
band, a ruler, a pot of glue, a book of maps, coloured pencils, a spoon—no
matter how fanciful or practical, we’d make stuff with it.
hammer & daisy, in its
current guise, could be said to have formed early in 2003 when we adapted
an exposed spine, square knot binding technique studied at the Centro
del bel Libro in Ascona, Switzerland. What began as a line of hammer
& daisy handmade fabric-covered journals has since grown to
include a small, square concertina journal, an A6 journal pouch and
pencil case, an A7 scribbler, a parliament of owl pinnies and linen-fronted
birds, and various greeting cards and postcards featuring our own artwork.
As to our artwork, we have been making artists' books collaboratively
since 1999. Artists' books with
drawings, with elements of collage, hand-coloured with pencil or stamped,
even cut out and altered ever so slightly; every step, every part of
the process, every learning curve, holds us besotted. We fell into the
making of these artists’ books seemingly by accident, without
even realising, much like our collaboration. A turn here, a turn there,
and here we are.
What is the best thing you have made?
Anything that affords someone a grin, anything which does not fall over
upon completion, any book that holds its shape come whatever is thrown
at it, any thing that brings us joy to make and makes visible to us
new mountains to scale: these things make some thing worthy of the title
Best. When all effort of labour is hidden, we are satisfied.
Did you make stuff when you were little?
Yes, from drawing elaborate mouse worlds on the reverse side of coasters
or napkins seated underneath a table whilst a jazz band played (Gracia),
to tinkering in the toolshed making go-karts and enamel brooches (Louise),
the making of stuff in all forms is something we have both done since
little.
Does anyone in your family make stuff?
Yes, everyone, it is safe to say, dabbles in the fine art of making
stuff. In particular, Elaine Haby makes handmade
stuffies and felt pins for hammer
& daisy.
What music helps you make stuff?
For the trapping and subsequent brewing of ideas, we favour silence;
we have found that they can be coaxed out of their hiding spot somewhere
in the chambers of the mind by the irresistible lure of a quiet room,
an early morning or a late night. For the assembly line stage, music
helps the production side of things, from Russian folk songs to bluegrass,
there is little not suited to this part of the making.
How does collaboration change the stuff you make?
Collaboration
enables us to create something not possible without the other. It is
challenging and rewarding both, and it feels like the perfect fit. Endless
possibilities arise, and the enjoyment element heightened when you have
someone to share things with, we find it hard to imagine it any other
way. Even when working on our own projects or drawings or zines, one
of us will help the other, usually on a more technical level, by cutting
paper or making files print-ready. We rather fell into our collaboration
and seem unlikely to bring it to a close anytime soon.
What do people do with your stuff?
Owl pinnies get carried in pockets (they
serve as handmade stress-relief squeeze-toys), prints get framed, journals
get used, zines afford a laugh, and things, our stuff, is hopefully
enjoyed for a good length of time. Often people will post us photos
of our stuff in their homes and this peek is greatly appreciated.
What is your favourite tool?
A pair of Honey Bee small and sharp scissors (Gracia)
and a paintbrush loaded with watercolour pigment (Louise).
Do you make stuff in your head first?
Yes, absolutely, though it is not always willing to make itself eventuate
upon page or screen. Persistence pays off, as does the doing of seemingly
little. When the hands are caught up in another task can often work,
too.
Do you dream about the stuff you make?
Often. Sometimes you will find yourself dreaming of ideas of things
to make, and these are usually absurd in nature. Other times you will
find yourself dreaming of the stuff you are in the middle of making.
It is not unusual to continue collating individual zine pages or knotting
the spines of several journals in your dreams, and the frustration at
waking to find the task as you left it the night before is always felt
cruelly.
Do you miss the stuff when it goes?
In one sense, we each of us do. Working from our home-based
studio, we are around our stuff a great deal, so naturally we are
rather fond of it, for the main. But, in truth, we are happy to see
it go to a good home, to be enjoyed. Our home is also tiny and we need
the space.
Turn the pages,
elsewhere
high
up in the trees
Handmadelife
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I Make Stuff, Volume One, 2009