4B -Thursday, November 10, 2011

the 1k-side

The Michigan Daily - michigandaily.com

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ANNA SCHULTE/Daily
The family-run bookbinding store Hollander's began as a venue at the Ann Arbor Art Fairs.
Binding literature and
art in Kerrytown store

The Hollander's aura
and workshops keep the
book arts alive
By KELLY ETZ
Daily Arts Writer
Walking into Hollander's, a bookbind-
ing store nestled in historic Kerrytown,
one is instantly overwhelmed by the
sheer volume of paper hanging in wooden
racks, row after row. Simple solids are
juxtaposed next to splashes of shimmer-
ing metallic and intricate patterns. Every
sheet radiates a vivid signature, bearing
that raw, rustic appeal of the handcrafted.
That same appeal permeates through-
out the shop, each nook and cranny filled
to brimming, from the wall of bookbind-
ing supplies, to the racks of stationery, to
the squeak of aged hardwood underfoot.
Cocooned under the gleam of soft light-
ing, Hollander's is one lasting example
of the rare places still catering to such a
niche market. It is one of the few remain-
ing stores to offer a hands-on approach
to such time-honored traditions as hand-
made papermaking and bookbinding.
Book arts is devoted to perceiving the
book as an art object. For purveyors of the
craft, the form and touch of a hardcover
tome is just as important as the content
inside.
Hollander's has become nationally rec-
ognized for its vast selection and exclu-
sive workshops devoted to the art of the
book. Through the workshops, which
are conducted in the basement of the
store, students learn and create beautiful
pieces of history, surrounded by old-fash-
ioned printing presses and other equally
enthused pupils of book arts practices.
Covering an immense array of subjects,
and with names from Foundational Cal-
ligraphy to Japanese Books and Boxes,
the workshops offer a distinctive setting
for acquiring these atypical and uncon-
ventional crafts. Generally spanning one

or two days, the workshops cater to both
novices and experts, offering a one-on-
one setting with the instructor. These
instructors come from all over the coun-
try. Even nationally recognized pioneers
of the burgeoning modern book arts
movement, most notably Hedi Kyle, have
traveled to Ann Arbor to teach at Holland-
er's, according to owner Cindy Hollander.
Eric Alstrom, instructor of the Japa-
nese Books and Boxes class, has been
teaching at Hollander's for seven years.
Alstrom is also the head of the Florence
G. Wallace Conservation Laboratory at
Michigan State University, where he is
currently working with other book arts
faculty to create a definitive book arts
program.
"There's just something about the feel
of a book, being able to hold that and read
it versus seeing it on a screen," Alstrom
said, elucidating on the importance of
keeping these papermaking and book-
binding of traditions in practice in mod-
ern society.
There is certainly an exotic charm to
the handmade journals that the students
create in this class, with their beautifully
vibrant covers and exposed stitching.
These distinctive creations are part of
what is keeping the book arts movement
alive today, exemplifying the inherent
contrast between what can be digitally
appealing and what is alluring - not only
in appearance, but also assembly.
"I think that people always like to make
things, to work with their hands," owner
Tom Hollander explained, as an illustra-
tion of how Hollander's has remained
such a steady force in Ann Arbor. "There
is a part of the population that just really
wants to be involved with making some-
thing from scratch, making something by
hand and making it visually interesting.
Not just functional, you know, but beauti-
ful and interestingto look at."
The Hollander's workshops have
helped to shape what the store has become
today. Since opening its doors in 1991, the
family-run shop has steadily grown with

each passing year, becoming one of the
largest providers of decorative papers and
bookbinding supplies in the country. It
even ships internationally to customers in
places as far as Argentina and Japan.
Though Hollander's currently resides
on the ground floor of the historic Ker-
rytown Market and Shops, the store did
not always have such permanent lodg-
ings: It began not ina retail space, but in
the free-flowing venue of the Ann Arbor
Art Fairs. Tom and Cindy Hollander used
to work out of their home, creating desk
accessories from the same decorative
paper prevalent in the shop today, and
then selling these creations in various
art fairs.
"It just got to the point where we
thought, 'Boy, it would be nice -tohave
someplace where we could keep it all set
up.' And there was just a real small space
in Kerrytown and we thought we could
give it a try," said Cindy, who worked in a
corporate job for 10 years before opening
the shop. "We thought we could do it, and
it just kind of grew from there."
Of course, the Hollanders weren't ini-
tially certain of the venture. With no
direct knowledge of the burgeoning book
arts community already established here
in Ann Arbor, their decision was a veri-
table stab in the dark. Fortunately, they
were in the right place at the right time,
and Hollander's continued to grow steadi-
ly as the years passed.
There will always be the passion to
create, whether from paper or from pix-
els, and as long as such passion endures,
Hollander's will continue to offer a place
to facilitate the exploration of such cre-
ativity. With the continuing emergence
of a book arts community in Ann Arbor,
Hollander's is sure to always have a demo-
graphic to cater to.
"Book art, you know, (in the past) you
would say it to somebody and they would
have no idea what you're talking about,"
Cindy Hollander said. "But it has come
into its own being, so we were just ahead
of the curve, fortunately."

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THE VAU LTICINEMA PARADISO' (1988), MIRAMAX
Finding paradise in the cinematic treasures of old

By SEAN CZARNECKI
Daily Arts Writer
If a film succeeds, its audience will
simply set aside all logic. For a couple of
hours, we won't see actors or contrived
special effects. We won't hear music.
Though we're only watching people
pretending to be other people, we'll feel
something greater than we can under-
stand.
For some, this is irrelevant, which is
fine - they come to be entertained for
a couple of hours and they are. But for
others, films provide a form of escapist
catharsis. And the Italian film classic
"Cinema Paradiso" succeeds by not only
helping to explain this phenomenon,
but also by providing its own helping
of emotional payoff. This makes its elo-
quent storytelling reach far beyond its
financial success.
Today, 22 years later, "Cinema Para-
diso" is consistently ranked as one of
the best films of world cinema, and it's
often credited as one of the reasons
behind the Italian film industry's reviv-

al. Grossing an impressive amount at the
box office, the film won the Special Jury
Prize at the 1989 Cannes Film Festival
and the Best Foreign Film Oscar at the
1989 Academy Awards. Surprisingly,
all this is owed to Miramax co-founder
(and infamous film butcher) Harvey
Weinstein.
The 1988 gem
'Cinema Paradiso'
is more than a
collection of kisses.
After the original cut was criticized
as bloated and scatter-brained, the
stewardship of its international release
was handed over to Weinstein, where
51 minutes were cut. Under Weinstein's
scalpel, Tornatore's poignant story of
film director Salvatore Di Vita (Jacques

Perrin, "Le Petit Lieutenant") and his
early life as a mischievous movie-lover
nicknamed "Toto" (Salvatore Cascio,
"The Pope Must Die") are even more
keenly felt.
Toto is a young boy living in an iso-
lated Sicilian town where he dreams
of people and places that are impossi-
bly beyond his reach. But through the
power of film, he can experience worlds
through the eye of a camera. Movies
offer Toto - and other inhabitants of his
town - an escape.
When this escape has to be censored
by the local priest for material he finds
sexually offensive, it's easy to under-
stand the town's feelings of frustra-
tion. Hotvever, these bits and pieces of
the film are snipped off and put away
in a box by the cinema operator Alfre-
do (Philippe Noiret, "Topaz"), who
becomes Toto's mentor.
After Alfredo's funeral, Toto, now a
broken man burdenedby his ownmemo-
ries, is given a small montage left to him
by his mentor. It's a collection of all the
kiss scenes the priest had censored, and

what follows is truly a perfect scene.
As the screen flickers on, an eloquent
score by Ennio Morricone builds in the
dark. The camera pans to Toto's face.
As the screen illuminates with dozens
of famous Hollywood kisses, a range
of emotions plays over his face. This
scene alone sums up the nostalgia, pain,
regret, joy and heartbreak that he's car-
ried for more than 30 years. Like Toto,
we are overwhelmed by its power. But
when the montage ends three minutes
later, the weight of Toto's memories
is lifted, and we stand up fresh and
renewed.
It's puzzling to consider how power-
ful this scene is. Rationally, we'd remind
ourselves that none of this actually hap-
pened anyway - after all, it's just a scat-
tered montage of famous Hollywood
kisses. Still, our tears are unmistakably
mixed with the same joy Toto feels. Its
meaning isn't given weight through its
own merit, but through the experiences
that we bring with us.
Movies give us a chance to compact
and project our past on screen. In only

MIRAMAX
Harvey Wienstein cut 51 minutes from'Paradiso.'
a single scene, "Cinema Paradiso" dem-
onstrates and explains the redemptive
power of storytelling. It's a tremendous
achievement that will remain relevant
so long as laughs, tears and thrills are
shared in a movie theater.