MMU Special collections (book Archive).

Critically observing these works revealed how each book was not just a vessel for content but a conceptual artefact in itself—meticulously constructed with deliberate choices of texture, binding, and form. It became evident that such creations demand immense patience, technical skill, and personal investment. This exposure broadened my understanding of how design can transcend functionality to become an intimate expression of narrative and identity. It also raised important questions about the role of slowness and manual labour in an era dominated by digital production, prompting me to reconsider the value of tactility and materiality in my own design practice

At the outset of our visit, the librarian provided us with gloves—a simple yet symbolic gesture underscoring the archival value and delicate nature of the handmade books. This act of care revealed the institutional commitment to preservation and the cultural significance of these artefacts. I was struck by the long-term vision implied: these books are not just preserved for practical reference but revered as artistic legacies for future generations.

One particular work that resonated deeply with me was a handmade book titled Rain by a storyteller-artist. The concept was deceptively minimal yet profoundly effective: the use of a single colour palette and intricate paper-cutting techniques to convey the gradual intensification of rainfall. The progression from light rain to heavy downpour across the pages demonstrated a subtle narrative rhythm and a masterful command of material manipulation. Curious about the type of paper used, I asked the librarian, but she was unsure—suggesting that even the materials themselves may be bespoke or rare. This ambiguity added a layer of intrigue, reinforcing the idea that every element of the book was purposefully chosen and potentially irreplicable.

Another standout was a book inspired by Japan’s Mount Fuji. Visually captivating and structurally complex, its construction remains a mystery. Neither visitors nor staff could explain how it was made, which only heightened my appreciation for the ingenuity and perhaps cultural specificity involved in its creation. It served as a reminder that design is not always meant to be decoded; sometimes, its power lies in its ability to evoke awe and curiosity.

One of the most intriguing works I encountered was a handmade book that functioned as a visual reinterpretation of an entire film. The artist meticulously recreated scenes from the movie, including birds and various symbolic elements, transforming cinematic moments into a tactile, page-by-page experience. This approach not only demonstrated exceptional creativity but also challenged the boundaries between media, highlighting how narrative can shift and evolve when translated from screen to paper. Another notable piece was the "moth pages" book, characterised by its minimalistic yet elegant presentation. The clarity of each page and the ethereal quality of the design suggested a deep understanding of visual pacing and negative space.

Equally compelling was a booklet originally produced for the Brussels Trade Centre. Each page presented a unique historical snapshot of a different country through line art and concise text. The limited but intentional use of information conveyed cultural identities with surprising depth, encouraging the viewer to engage critically rather than passively consume. What stood out most to me was the artist’s ambition to represent the essence of global history and heritage within such a compact format. It exemplified how simplicity, when executed with purpose, can be an effective tool for visual communication and cross-cultural storytelling.