Postcard from the woods
in form of a handmade Leporello
I think I am officially a book-making nerd.1
Over the past few weeks, I have spent some time reading and watching videos on the history of the book. It all started with a comment about the historical use of a Leporello book that made me want to dive deeper into the topic. I went all the way back to stone and clay tablets and worked my way back up to the time when Leporellos became a thing. I won‘t bore you with the whole history of the object we call book today, but I do want to share some bits of what I have learned about Leporellos and how this knowledge inspired my own folded book, which I made recently.
But first, what is a Leporello?
A Leporello is an accordion-fold book - also known as a concertina - which unfolds into one long piece.
It has been around for many centuries, long before it acquired its actual name, which originates from a character with the name Leporello in Mozart's opera Don Giovanni, which premiered in 1787. In the opera, Leporello is depicted there holding a long, folded list.
Compared to the scroll - another predecessor of the book as we know it today -the accordion-fold design was an innovative way to present large amounts of information - just like a scroll - but in a portable, compact form, with much easier access to the information on that paper.
Over the centuries, Leporellos have been used for a variety of purposes, such as illustrations, songs, texts, and maps. Today, they can primarily be found in advertising, as well as in artistic works.
Leporellos became very popular in the 1900s as tourist souvenirs. They were a stylish alternative to the single postcard. Thanks to their format, they allowed a series of images to be presented. When unfolded, the postcard stretches out into a longer, continuous visual experience, much like a mini booklet or a panoramic view.
This was well before my time, so I wasn’t really aware of its popularity back then. But I found it interesting, so I pinned it onto my mental pinboard for future inspiration. This inspiration came back to me just recently, after taking a walk in the woods with my camera…
I am on one of my morning walks with my camera and my dog. It is a cold, foggy morning in January. I am visiting a place on the outskirts of Hamburg. A place I have been to many times in the past and that is very familiar to me. It is a mixture of woodlands, dunes partially covered with heather, a small lake, and many narrow hiking paths. I have photographed here many times before.
The first of the three dunes is my favourite - beautiful, quirky pine trees stand on the dune like giant sculptures, the sandy ground covered in dried heather. I love that view, no matter which time of year. On a foggy day like today, it is probably most spectacular. I am beyond happy to have made the drive.
There is one small dead tree I love to photograph, but -for the first time- I decide not to photograph only that tree but every solitary tree on that dune. The lingering fog that morning serves me as the perfect backdrop, blurring everything beyond.
Two hours later, I leave the place with filled with happiness and satisfaction - a wonderful walk on a peaceful morning, and what I hope good photographs.
Later, as I look through my photographs, I don’t feel like looking at pictures of trees; instead, they appear more like portraits of old friends. And I am reminded of Hermann Hesse’s words:
“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree.”
With Hesse’s words echoing in my head, I look at the photographs, and I remember the Leporello and its unique design again. I also think of cabinet cards, which were popular around the same time - sepia-toned photographs of a loved one, attached to heavy cardstock, ready to be displayed on a bookshelf or mantelpiece.
When I walked out the door that January morning, I had no idea I would return home with so much inspiration. But seeing my images of these trees sparked my desire to create a handmade Leporello. So, I got to work.
And this is what I made:
A handmade Leporello, 12 pages long, displaying nine photographs, the front and back covered with handprinted paper and a piece of driftwood as a clasp. It is one of many books and zines I make, and one I am happy and proud enough about, that I decided to make a small edition of it.
I know many of you were interested in my “Window” zine but saw my offer too late. So, perhaps this little Leporello will spark your interest instead. I will be offering five handmade, and one-of-a-kind books. The price for a Leporello is 35€ (shipping worldwide).
One of my readers kindly suggested offering a pre-release as a perk for paid subscribers. Since they don’t receive anything extra (besides my weekly newsletter), I think this is a wonderful idea.
Here’s how it works: If you’re interested in one of these handmade Leporellos, please send me a message. For the first 48 hours2, my paid subscribers will have the exclusive opportunity to purchase a copy. After that time, I will go through the messages on a first-come, first-served basis and notify everyone who reached out to me. You will then receive a link to purchase one of the Leporellos.
That’s all from me this week.
Thank you so much for being here and for taking the time to read this week’s newsletter. It means a lot to me!
Feel free to leave a comment – I always love to hear your thoughts.
X,
Susanne
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With all due respect to real book makers, which I am clearly not!
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Susanne, This Leporello is an absolute work of art. I was spellbound watching your video. Stunning work. I am blown away!
absolutely beautiful!