Shades of White
First Impressions
Upon initial inspection, the works of Ronald King are difficult to categorize. Many of his works are collaged arrays of color and text while others are a distilled and minimalistic work of white on white. The dynamic range of his work is further layered by a distinctly performative element that is embedded in the experience of examining one of his artist books. Beyond painting or graphic design, these visceral visual works of miniature paper sculpture compel the viewer-performer to not only experience them, but to enter into a performance with them. Using visual elements that are varied and complex King creates works that are made to be experienced. The pages are not merely representational of a performance, but are instead the script and set for the viewer-performer.
Here I will begin by briefly examining the roots of the visual book. A survey of Keith Smith’s Structure of the Visual Book will frame how one to study the components of King’s works. Finally, I will critically examine the experience of viewing the white on white compositions by King in connection to the performative nature of his work with the visual book as a medium.
A Moment of Disclosure
Before critically examining the work of King, it is important that I disclose my own biases and motivations in regards to dealing with visual media and the visual medium. My area of research and scholarship is currently described as Media Design. This specifically relates to design for the stage, though it could be broadly applied to all performance spaces. This ambiguous title requires an expansive toolbox of skills, and as such media designers are often responsible for: obtaining and installing equipment, designing media playback or interactive systems that produce the desired illusion of a production or installation, programming software to operate within the specified parameters of a project, and designing and generating the artwork. Creating and designing a visual book, or artist book, encompasses many of the same responsibilities. Here the designer is responsible for not only generating the final product, but also designing the process of its manufacture, collecting the materials for production, crafting an experience for the viewer-performer, and generating the artwork for the book. My work is dictated by screens and digital projections, and King’s is grounded in paper and ink.
Central to the dialogue about the use of technology in performance is the question of interactivity: is interactive technology appropriate if the audience is unable to distinguish between a real-time system and one that is simply playing back previously generated content. It is in this question that King’s work has the most relevance to me. Artist books require interaction; in fact they are predicated upon the assumption that the viewer-performer will choose to both interact with them, and generate meaning out of that interaction. The corporality of the physical form requires the viewer-performer to enter into a performance with the artifact. It is this observation that drives my inquiry and fuels my interest in King’s work; similarly, it is this focus that also creates a corresponding blind spot in my analysis that must be recognized.
Central to the dialogue about the use of technology in performance is the question of interactivity: is interactive technology appropriate if the audience is unable to distinguish between a real-time system and one that is simply playing back previously generated content. It is in this question that King’s work has the most relevance to me. Artist books require interaction; in fact they are predicated upon the assumption that the viewer-performer will choose to both interact with them, and generate meaning out of that interaction. The corporality of the physical form requires the viewer-performer to enter into a performance with the artifact. It is this observation that drives my inquiry and fuels my interest in King’s work; similarly, it is this focus that also creates a corresponding blind spot in my analysis that must be recognized.
The Visual Book – Roots aren’t just for Trees
Somewhere between sculpture and poster, between collage and graphic design, between installation and performance lies the spirit of the artist book. While the form has roots that stretch back as far as Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience, artist books are really a form that belongs to the late 20th century. One can see the beginnings of today’s artist books as framed by the tumultuous changes in graphic design and advertising in the early 1900’s. The period often referred to as Plakatstil, or Poster Style, spans the years from 1900 to 1930 and its design was characterized by simple graphics that were composed of flat colors and simple type arrangements (Schaller 30). Incorporating lessons of composition and line from the Art Nouveau movement, Plakatstil moved away from the purely ornamental and instead designers focused on creating a distilled image of the angular and industrial. Embedded in this larger trend is the explosion of expressionist graphic design during the period of 1905-1922. Abstract expressionism especially “took on a distinctive, primitive visual language. The human figure and natural elements were distorted and stretched to emphasize the meaning of the art and for dramatic effect” (Schaller 32). As expressionism began to draw to close, the Bauhaus design movement, and school, began to take shape. Influenced by Expressionism, Dada, Constructivism, and De Stijl art styles, Bauhaus created a unique learning environment for graphic design, art, and industrial design (Schaller 34). In the middle of this turbulent period in design, the experiments of the Avent-Garde Italian futurists, and later the Russian futurists would form the basis of the contemporary artist book. More importantly, their theories and manifestos would establish the idiomatic framework of the form. In her examination of performance art from futurism to the present, Goldberg notes that futurists “turned to performance as the most direct means of forcing an audience to take note of their ideas,” and quotes the Italian futurist Ardengo Scoffici as writing “the spectator [must] live at the center of the painted action” (14). This insistence about the role of the spectator is fundamental to the experience of viewing an artist book. The spectator must be at the center of the experience. In fact, in order to fully engage with the work, the viewer-performer must interact with the object. This declaration about the proximity of the spectator and action was later built upon by the Bauhaus school of design. Goldberg notes that “unlike the rebellious Futurist or Dada provocations, Gropius’s Romantic Bauhaus manifesto had called for the unification of all the arts in a ‘cathedral of Socialism’ ” (97). Out of the Bauhaus school designers were creating works that were no longer singular entities. Instead the school focused on teaching students an interdisciplinary approach to creating new works. It is this composited approach to design that truly gives life to the idea of the artist book. Born of the rebellious Futurist demand for art as confrontation, the artist book is also tempered by the romantic ideas of unification and complete composition from the Bauhaus school. The artist book is simultaneously built upon an understanding of conventionality and rebellion. Far from being a book that one might find at a library, more often it is a miniature interactive kinetic painted sculpture masquerading as a book.
The Visual Book – Structure
Keith Smith’s Structure of the Visual Book is a comprehensive examination of trends and conventions in artist books. In it he calls attention to several ways in which this medium can be examined: the book as object, convention, composition, distance, color, shadow, transition, and physical interaction. Keith’s conventions provide a scaffolding for analyzing King’s works, and help to provide a frame for how to understand the visual book.
The Book as Object
The All White Alphabet - (Ragan) |
The All White Alphabet - (Ragan) |
Convention
Anansi Company, Tiger - (Ragan) |
King breaks many established conventions with his works, but in particular Anansi Company carries the most obvious challenges to traditional patterns. Anansi Company, comes in a large fabric covered box with engraved and painted lettering. The abstract pattern on the box calls to mind a sense of the tribal and is colored in black and purple. As the viewer-performer opens the box instead of bound pages one finds a series of folded folios. Offset lithography on handmade oversized paper bombards the senses with texture and color. Each folio is decorated with a combination of collaged photographs, illustration, calligraphy, and type. Upon opening the folio the viewer-performer is presented with a poem or song on the left side of the page, and a wire and paper puppet on the right side of the page. Instead of a structured narrative, Anansi Company instead gives the viewer-performer a rough script of poetry, songs, and legends that are to be interpreted and acted out with the puppets. An average puppet is eight inches wide, and twelve inches tall. Here King unabashedly attacks the idea of what a book should be. Far from a self-contained and fixed artifact, King has instead created a work that is perpetually in-flux; a work that is an explicitly shared partnership between the artifact and the viewer-performer.
Color
Matisse's Model - (Ragan) |
Circus Turn - (Ragan) |
King’s evidenced passion for color makes the choice to use only white in a series of works all the more interesting. Circus Turn, Turn Over Darling, and the All White Alphabet are three works were King deliberately abstains from using any color in the pages of his books. These striking works are characterized by shadow and texture, and consequently feel bare and exposed. Here King pushes the viewer-performer to scrutinize the works for detail and meaning.
Shadow
The purposeful use of shadow is a bold technique to embrace, and not an easy approach to tame. In working exclusively with shadows, King is electing to paint with light. Light painting most often refers to a technique used by photographers when composing long-exposure photographs. This method creates images that are characterized by long trails of light over dark backgrounds. King’s approach, on the other hand, focuses on using differences in the height of the printed surface to obstruct or allow light to shade and color the surfaces of his work. Unlike painting with brush strokes, King is painting with miniature architecture. His use of curved surfaces tends to create shadows that have a softer edge and blurred appearance. Hard lines and sharp angles create shadows that are angular with crisp lines. Photographers and installation artists always think about the position of three objects in creating their work: the position of the subject, the light source, and the position of the viewer or camera. King must also consider these three variables in working with shadow as the primary medium. While the installation artist or photographer has very precise control of the position and intensity of the light being used, King does not have that luxury. This makes his skillful manipulation of light all the more impressive. This can most effectively be be seen by studying his white on white works.
King’s white on white works can broadly be separated into two distinct varieties characterized by their method of construction: wire form and pop-up. Circus Turns uses a wire form approach. King first bends lengths of fourteen-gauge wire into shapes that resemble individuals or objects. These wire shapes are then set into a papermaking screen. Hand made paper is then drenched in water and pressed into the screen and left to dry. The dry paper retains a negative of the wire-form pressed into it while it was wet. Individual spreads are then folded and hand bound to create the finished work. The resulting image is seen both as a positive, and as a negative of the original wireframe work. One face of the spread will mimic wire on the screen creating a positive image – here the raised portions of paper cast shadows onto the flat surface of the page. The reverse face of this same spread creates a negative – in this case the valleys created in the paper by the wire act as pools of shadow.
King’s pop-up approach uses a technique of folding and cutting in order to force portions of the page to sit at some angle away from the otherwise flat surface. In the All White Alphabet King uses this approach. In the case of the letter “F,” three partial rectangles are cut into a single sheet of hand made paper. These partial rectangles are then folded in such a manner as to create a letterform that pops off of the page when the spread is open at an obtuse angle. The letter “X” is created with two horizontal lines cut into the surface of the paper. The paper is first folded in half, and then only the center section is folded twice more to create two diagonal lines that bisect one another. Here the resulting highlight that’s created on the edge of each folded surface creates the letterform. King sculpts each individual letter into an architectural marvel of paper and light. In observation, King’s methods of folding and cutting read simultaneously as both obvious and stunningly clever – choices that seem as though they are the only possible solutions, and yet also intriguingly novel.
Both of the above techniques provide for an interesting visual experience, but it's worth reiterating that the wire-form method feels more organic and more human. This may be related to his choice of subject matter for these forms, but it seems that it's also related to the nature of the curved lines created by the bending wire. The pop-up technique creates imagery that feels distinctly architectural, constructed and engineered; while the wire-pressed technique draws on a very different sense of aesthetic. This aesthetic quality is inherent to the nature of the shadows that are created. The pop-up book creates hard shadows, lines that bisect space. This elicits a sense of the city skyline in the viewer-performer. Meanwhile the curved indentures of the wire-pressed pages are softer. The curvature of the line creates a softer gradient of shadow that falls into and out of the creases on the page, mimicking the curved shape of the human form.
Physical Interaction
Beyond the aesthetic, physically interacting with King’s works is central to the act of fully experiencing the books. Physical contact with these pieces contextualize them as well as synchronizing the viewer-performer with the action of the works. The act of turning the page, for example, “reveals the order of viewing” (Smith 12). This seemingly inconsequential convention is important when considering how the artist book may stray from established norms of viewership. Smith points out that “the book is a single experience, a compound picture of the many separate sheets” (Smith 12). While the book might represent an individual moment, Smith also writes that “in the codex this single experience is revealed in slivers. The total is perceived and exists only as a retention of an afterimage in the mind. The codex is never seen at once” (12). Here Smith is referring to the codex as the entire composition of the book. His observation emphasizes that the viewer-performer is only presented with a single spread of pages at a time, a sliver. King’s books often make use of imagery or sculpture on multiple surfaces; as such, one cannot see all of the surfaces simultaneously. Smith is suggesting that the viewer-performer must therefore mentally reassemble these slivers into a single composite of all the presented pages. This is evidenced in King’s white on white works, and profoundly demonstrated in his large format work. Anansi Company, for example, requires much more from the viewer because of the size of the pages. The viewer-performer is asked to interact and perform with the puppets, not just passively consume the art quietly. Here turning the page is not only about advancing the narrative, but exploring the artwork and story as a single intertwined thread. Anansi Company’s structure also suggests that the experience might well be nonlinear. As discussed earlier, the book is a series of puppets with only broad outlines about the characters and suggested narrative. This places the viewer in the position to perform the roles of a writer, director, and actor. Anansi Company stands as a challenge to the viewer-performer to create the meaning of the work with the artist. Viewing these pages sequentially is a distinctly dissatisfying experience when one might instead open every folio, spread out every puppet, and explore – at will – the imaginary world of King’s characters.
Similar to the concepts that are inherent in the forward momentum of turning the page, one must also consider the nature of the two-sided display. In a traditional book pages progress linearly left to right, top to bottom, front to back. In an artist book, the front and the back of a page may or may not be directly related, or ordered linearly. King takes this idea and plays with the perceived forwards and backwards orientation of images and time. His work Turn over Darling is a series of nudes made with the same wire-form method of Circus Turn. Interesting here is that each bust or waist is connected to the image of the previous. As the reader looks through the pages each one is interconnected to the next. A more apt description of this technique can be expressed through patterning. The pattern of images that progresses through the work can be represented as the following where a capital letter represents a positive image (a raised effect in the paper), and a lowercase letter represents a negative (an indented effect in the paper): a, AB, bc, CD, d. Using this method of describing the patterning one can see that while the image of the bust or waist persists from one spread to the next, it is also transformed – changing to either a positive or negative image. This is the same technique used in Circus Turn. King’s purposeful manipulation of linearity and time for the viewer raises questions about how the viewer-performer might examine this work. What direction should this work be read in, if ultimately it feels reversible. Is it imperative that one start at the front or the back? Could one start in the middle? Here the only reference points for the content of the book are tied to the covers – the viewer's only guideposts for beginning and end.
The act of turning the page in King’s works is about advancing the experience as much as it is about creating compound images in the viewers mind. Deeply tied to the experience of the white on white works is King’s use of transition from one element to the next. Smith writes that “transition is the interrelationship of the elements of the book. Transition is conceptual, visual, and physical. It might be predominately one or another, but it is necessarily a combination of all three” (79).
Shadow
The purposeful use of shadow is a bold technique to embrace, and not an easy approach to tame. In working exclusively with shadows, King is electing to paint with light. Light painting most often refers to a technique used by photographers when composing long-exposure photographs. This method creates images that are characterized by long trails of light over dark backgrounds. King’s approach, on the other hand, focuses on using differences in the height of the printed surface to obstruct or allow light to shade and color the surfaces of his work. Unlike painting with brush strokes, King is painting with miniature architecture. His use of curved surfaces tends to create shadows that have a softer edge and blurred appearance. Hard lines and sharp angles create shadows that are angular with crisp lines. Photographers and installation artists always think about the position of three objects in creating their work: the position of the subject, the light source, and the position of the viewer or camera. King must also consider these three variables in working with shadow as the primary medium. While the installation artist or photographer has very precise control of the position and intensity of the light being used, King does not have that luxury. This makes his skillful manipulation of light all the more impressive. This can most effectively be be seen by studying his white on white works.
Circus Turn |
King’s white on white works can broadly be separated into two distinct varieties characterized by their method of construction: wire form and pop-up. Circus Turns uses a wire form approach. King first bends lengths of fourteen-gauge wire into shapes that resemble individuals or objects. These wire shapes are then set into a papermaking screen. Hand made paper is then drenched in water and pressed into the screen and left to dry. The dry paper retains a negative of the wire-form pressed into it while it was wet. Individual spreads are then folded and hand bound to create the finished work. The resulting image is seen both as a positive, and as a negative of the original wireframe work. One face of the spread will mimic wire on the screen creating a positive image – here the raised portions of paper cast shadows onto the flat surface of the page. The reverse face of this same spread creates a negative – in this case the valleys created in the paper by the wire act as pools of shadow.
King’s pop-up approach uses a technique of folding and cutting in order to force portions of the page to sit at some angle away from the otherwise flat surface. In the All White Alphabet King uses this approach. In the case of the letter “F,” three partial rectangles are cut into a single sheet of hand made paper. These partial rectangles are then folded in such a manner as to create a letterform that pops off of the page when the spread is open at an obtuse angle. The letter “X” is created with two horizontal lines cut into the surface of the paper. The paper is first folded in half, and then only the center section is folded twice more to create two diagonal lines that bisect one another. Here the resulting highlight that’s created on the edge of each folded surface creates the letterform. King sculpts each individual letter into an architectural marvel of paper and light. In observation, King’s methods of folding and cutting read simultaneously as both obvious and stunningly clever – choices that seem as though they are the only possible solutions, and yet also intriguingly novel.
Both of the above techniques provide for an interesting visual experience, but it's worth reiterating that the wire-form method feels more organic and more human. This may be related to his choice of subject matter for these forms, but it seems that it's also related to the nature of the curved lines created by the bending wire. The pop-up technique creates imagery that feels distinctly architectural, constructed and engineered; while the wire-pressed technique draws on a very different sense of aesthetic. This aesthetic quality is inherent to the nature of the shadows that are created. The pop-up book creates hard shadows, lines that bisect space. This elicits a sense of the city skyline in the viewer-performer. Meanwhile the curved indentures of the wire-pressed pages are softer. The curvature of the line creates a softer gradient of shadow that falls into and out of the creases on the page, mimicking the curved shape of the human form.
Anansi Company, Dog - (Ragan) |
Turn Over Darling - (Ragan) |
Turn Over Darling - (Ragan) |
A Performance of Paper and Hands
While many artist books exhibit novel or interesting characteristics, King’s works stand out as defined by the relationship they manifest between the object and the viewer-performer. The characteristics of interacting with King’s works depart from the observation of a piece of art, and are instead markedly performance-like in nature. In particular the white on white works partner with the viewer-performer to create a short scene performed for an audience of one.
Upon first interacting with one of these pieces the observer first must remove the book from its protective sleeve. The nature of the design for the sleeves of these works makes them exceedingly snug. The result of this physical property of the object is that one cannot casually open the book. Rather, one must set aside all other items to focus exclusively on this task, the execution of which might be described as a clown-surgery. Being struck by the delicate nature of these books, one cannot simply manhandle them into submission, but instead must negotiate with flush edges and tight corners. The viewer-performer will have to investigate an array of permutated techniques for extracting the book. A shake here, a finger nail there; a wedged finger, and a tap on the table before a nervous glance to see if anyone is watching. An exasperated sigh leads to a close inspection of the object for a missed secret to its unlocking. Another round of delicate operations is required before a moment of triumphant glee is experienced at succeeding in the simple task of removing a slipcover. Here the observer has entered into a relationship with this object playing multiple roles – explorer, problem solver, frustrated patron, gleeful victor – before seeing a single spread of the work. Prior to opening the book, King has already transformed the simple observer into a participant and object manipulator.
The conventions that dictate the normative behavior of interacting with a book suggest that the next operation should be to open the cover. Inside the viewer-performer is greeted with nothing but white surfaces. Missing words, the viewer is left to search for another means of determining the content of the book. In the All White Alphabet, Circus Turn, and Turn Over Darling the viewer is presented with a broken convention of direction. Without text one is allowed to linger or pass by pages at any tempo. Further, the direction of examining the book is mutable. It can be examined forwards or backwards, right-side up or upside down. In this circumstance the viewer is allowed tremendous latitude for the manner in which the books “content” is to be enjoyed. Reading with ones fingers, feeling the texture and fold of the pages is just as important as visual examination. The book becomes both a set piece and a sculpture to be explored and traversed.
The absence of color in these works does not diminish their brilliance. Instead, it accents the world in which the book is being examined. By changing ones orientation to a light source, the shading and aesthetic feel of the surface changes dramatically. White surfaces are also tremendously efficient at picking up reflected color. The color of a nearby table, wall, or article of clothing lends a wash of hue that is both subtle and prismatic in presentation. The viewer-performer, confronted with this control creates new meaning and character by changing the spatial orientation of the book in relation to other colorful objects and light sources. To be unambiguous, while this quality may be inherent to the design of the book there is no preset series of actions – the viewer-performer changes the book by interacting with it; equally, the viewer is changed by the book.
The resulting partnership is of two performers improvising a scene predicated upon a simple suggestion from the artist: read me. Beyond turning pages, the viewer-performer is now locked in an exploratory dance: turn one page, turn two, make a curious discovery, go back to the beginning, stare lost in thought, stroke the corner of one page, lean close and hold at arms length. It is not long before the relationship is dictated by the transitions between moments, and the memory of first discoveries. A scene past its punch line, the viewer-performer lets the act come to a close. The book is given one last moment of scrutiny, before being delicately slipped back into its cover.
Closing
King’s works resist singular label. Beyond sculpture or painting, and more nuanced than visual book his works invite the viewer into a shared short performance. The all white works, especially, are characterized by a distinctly performative element embedded in their examination. Missing conventional norms of interaction, the pages invite the viewer-performer to create meaning through novel and playful interaction: an interaction that is fueled by the subtly brilliant work Ronald King.
Upon first interacting with one of these pieces the observer first must remove the book from its protective sleeve. The nature of the design for the sleeves of these works makes them exceedingly snug. The result of this physical property of the object is that one cannot casually open the book. Rather, one must set aside all other items to focus exclusively on this task, the execution of which might be described as a clown-surgery. Being struck by the delicate nature of these books, one cannot simply manhandle them into submission, but instead must negotiate with flush edges and tight corners. The viewer-performer will have to investigate an array of permutated techniques for extracting the book. A shake here, a finger nail there; a wedged finger, and a tap on the table before a nervous glance to see if anyone is watching. An exasperated sigh leads to a close inspection of the object for a missed secret to its unlocking. Another round of delicate operations is required before a moment of triumphant glee is experienced at succeeding in the simple task of removing a slipcover. Here the observer has entered into a relationship with this object playing multiple roles – explorer, problem solver, frustrated patron, gleeful victor – before seeing a single spread of the work. Prior to opening the book, King has already transformed the simple observer into a participant and object manipulator.
The conventions that dictate the normative behavior of interacting with a book suggest that the next operation should be to open the cover. Inside the viewer-performer is greeted with nothing but white surfaces. Missing words, the viewer is left to search for another means of determining the content of the book. In the All White Alphabet, Circus Turn, and Turn Over Darling the viewer is presented with a broken convention of direction. Without text one is allowed to linger or pass by pages at any tempo. Further, the direction of examining the book is mutable. It can be examined forwards or backwards, right-side up or upside down. In this circumstance the viewer is allowed tremendous latitude for the manner in which the books “content” is to be enjoyed. Reading with ones fingers, feeling the texture and fold of the pages is just as important as visual examination. The book becomes both a set piece and a sculpture to be explored and traversed.
The absence of color in these works does not diminish their brilliance. Instead, it accents the world in which the book is being examined. By changing ones orientation to a light source, the shading and aesthetic feel of the surface changes dramatically. White surfaces are also tremendously efficient at picking up reflected color. The color of a nearby table, wall, or article of clothing lends a wash of hue that is both subtle and prismatic in presentation. The viewer-performer, confronted with this control creates new meaning and character by changing the spatial orientation of the book in relation to other colorful objects and light sources. To be unambiguous, while this quality may be inherent to the design of the book there is no preset series of actions – the viewer-performer changes the book by interacting with it; equally, the viewer is changed by the book.
The resulting partnership is of two performers improvising a scene predicated upon a simple suggestion from the artist: read me. Beyond turning pages, the viewer-performer is now locked in an exploratory dance: turn one page, turn two, make a curious discovery, go back to the beginning, stare lost in thought, stroke the corner of one page, lean close and hold at arms length. It is not long before the relationship is dictated by the transitions between moments, and the memory of first discoveries. A scene past its punch line, the viewer-performer lets the act come to a close. The book is given one last moment of scrutiny, before being delicately slipped back into its cover.
Closing
King’s works resist singular label. Beyond sculpture or painting, and more nuanced than visual book his works invite the viewer into a shared short performance. The all white works, especially, are characterized by a distinctly performative element embedded in their examination. Missing conventional norms of interaction, the pages invite the viewer-performer to create meaning through novel and playful interaction: an interaction that is fueled by the subtly brilliant work Ronald King.
Ronald King – Born in Brazil in 1932, King moved to England at the age of twelve. Following art school and four years working as an art director in Canada, he returned to England with his young family and in 1967 and formed Circle Press to design, print and distribute artists books. Since then he has collaborated with more than 100 artists, writers and poets to produce a world-class body of work unique in its variety and quality. Ronald King's own work and that of Circle Press is represented in public and private collections worldwide (Spring Share). The name Circle Press was chosen by Ronald in part to embody the idea of a supported framework of like-minded artists that share an artistic vision (Circle Press).
Works Cited
Circle Press. Circle Press History. 2012. Circle Press. December 2012 <http://www.circlepress.com/history/index.html>.
Goldberg, RoseLee. Performance Art: From Futurism to the Present. New York: Thames & Hudson, 2001.
King, Ronald and Roy Fisher. "Anansi Company." London: Circle Press, 1992.
King, Ronald. Circus Turn. London: Circle Press, 1994.
—. Matisse's Model. London: Circle Press, n.d.
—. The White Alphabet. London: Circle Press, 1984.
—. Turn Over Darling. London: Circle Press, 1990.
Ragan, Matthew. "Research | Art Books." October 2012. Flickr.com. December 2012 <http://www.flickr.com/photos/matthewragan/sets/72157631739931759/>.
Schaller, Scott. Graphic Design: the making of 20th centry pop culture. 1st Edition. 2002.
Shortbus. By John Cameron Mitchell. Dir. John Cameron Mitchell. THINKFilm, Fortissimo Films, Q Television. THINKFilm, 2006.
Smith, Keith A. Structure of the Visual Book. Visual Studies Workshop Press, 1984.
Spring Share. The books of Ron King in the Artists’ Books Collection at IUPUI's Herron School of Art Library . Spring Share. Decemeber 2012 <http://libraryschool.campusguides.com/content.php?pid=328364&sid=2686492>.