How would it affect your viewing of this image, if this was called “Untitled”?

Or would you view it differently, if it was called “Lady and Feather”?

And would you see this image below differently if it was titled “Untitled” or if it was called “Soldier”?

When I was studying art, I kept noticing in exhibitions how many artworks were given the title “Untitled”. There were so many around it felt to me almost like it was in fashion. Or that if you called your artwork “Untitled” it meant you were a really cool and serious artist. The notion seemed to be that an artist should give space for the viewer’s imagination and not restrict the viewer’s associations about the artwork in any way. Of course, there’s nothing wrong if someone wants to release their artwork into the freely associating mind of the viewer, maybe it is very generous, maybe it has become expected. But why?

Giving any kind of descriptive title to a work no doubt affects the way the viewer looks at it – and it leads them to see the way the artist did while making the work. Why would it be a good thing to discourage that? If I want a free reign for my imagination to create meanings out of unintention, I can look at clouds or anything else in my environment, I don’t need to see an art exhibition for that. In artworks, I look for intention. So all this untitledness always bothered me in some indescribable way. Having seen countless of “Untitled” artworks, I can remember about three which really, truly carried off that title – works that actually could not have and should not have been titled anything else.

Very often, of course, viewers see the work without even knowing what the title might be. In fact, I have recently posted some of my latest artist books on my Facebook page purposefully without any titles. In that context they are momentarily “untitled” as I do also believe that an artwork needs to stand on its own visual merits without a need to be explained in words, titles or otherwise. However, having mulled over photographer Ian Talbot’s writings about the ownership of artwork and intention, I have come to realise what my untitled unease was about all those years ago. It is easy to call the work “Untitled”. When it comes to titling artwork, it is easy to give up, offer the ownership to the viewer. To me the title is one detail of the artwork just like any other element. I own it, I consider it, and just like I wouldn’t let my child into the world without a name and let everyone call her what they please, it is natural for me to want to title my works as appropriately as I have intended the artwork itself. The title points the viewer to the direction of my intention, gives a clue as to why I made the work in the first place. It is about my intention and communicating that intention to those who might be interested in it.

Here’s a series of images. I believe my intention could make them art, should I choose that act of intention. And I believe they are not art, unless I intend them to be. Giving these images a title would constitute intention (even if the title was “Untitled”.) If I intended these to be art, I might call them “Departures I, II & III”.

But I didn’t set out to make these images, and I didn’t make exactly them. I merely discovered them, even though it is ink from my brush. Of course, one aspect of art is discovering. Seeing something differently. I was dyeing paper for an artist book when I started to look closer. And like one sees shapes in clouds, I started to see meaning in these random blotches of ink. These images were an off-piste trail for me, a sudden tangent, after which I returned to the artist book I intended to make. The 36 long pieces of paper I dyed (of which four are photographed below) are material to me, not art. Framing and naming parts of them was entertaining, yet not quite art for me, as I’m still not intending them to be so. But the resulting book I intended, I indeed mean to call art.

Not many weekends left now for endless walkabouts before the summer heat kicks in, so making the most of it while we can. Having tried some barefooted daytime dune walking in May on our first year here, I know not to make the same mistake again. I recently read about someone having been up near an active volcano in such scorching heat that trees practically burst on fire – and another commented, ‘This is nothing, you should try a summer in Dubai’. Although, having spent the first half of my life in freezing northly minus grades, I believe there’s still enough chill in my bones to last a few more Dubai summers yet. When no one else wants to sit outside on a restaurant terrace in mid-July as you can hardly catch your breath from the heat, you might still spot one brave Finn out there. But dunes… I’ll leave those for next winter.

When I studied art and bookbinding, I got very interested in the philosophy of craft. I liked to analyse the process of making, to write about it, and to ponder it. I also wrote my degree dissertation about the learning process in craft. Then there came a point when the pondering and writing started to feel very far removed from the actual making. What I experienced while in the state of creating didn’t match any combination of words I could think of. Words have served an important purpose for me while learning the specifics of my craft, and clarified many issues in my mind that indeed have affected the way I approach actual studio work.
The fact that I again agree to think with the means of words and sentences in addition to the interplay of materials, colours and textures, has been inspired by the incredible group of artists of all disciplines discussing their process on Twitter, and particularly by reading the Objectively Speaking :: Blog of fine art photographer Ian Talbot. His in-depth, straight-talking analysis of his own works have been real revelations to me. They have also spurred me to raise many questions about my own work, and to realise I might need to dig out some answers.

As I’m not a writer or a poet, there will always be an unbridgable gap between words and my visual work. I also feel that whatever I might hope to transmit to the viewer deals with the end product, not the process – that is, I don’t aim to communicate anything about my process to the viewer, the only thing that matters in the end is what the final book in its final form might be saying, if anything. And I shall ponder that somewhat more from now on…

I keep seeing things, fleeting visual snapshots in non-moments along the process of making. I have always thought that abstract artists are very brave. And if I was as brave, I would make abstract artworks. Now I make covertly abstract works, hidden within the understandable shape of a book. For no particular reason other than simple visual delight, I enjoy the play and combination of elements, lines, shapes, textures and colours arranged into representing nothing. There may be a book in the making, but in another dimension, the elements are living independently, offering themselves as individual absract works complete in themselves. A kaleidoscope of images that cease to exist as soon as the making process takes another step toward the recognisable form of a book.

Sometimes it’s good to take one step away from books and look at the familiar materials arefresh. The kind of books I make always take a long time. In fact, even if I decided to quickly make one for checking out some thoughts and ideas, I still end up taking the book more seriously than a test piece and devoting more energy to it than I originally intended. A book for me is always a full process – I cannot seem to let one leave my hands as a test piece. So I feel much more free when working out some ideas away from books. At the moment also too many ideas and inspirations are fighting for attention in my mind and for my time in the studio. Not all ideas are worth spending time on and not all books fully formed as thoughts are worth bringing into physical form. While I’m working out idea priorities, I’m relaxing by stringing some materials together – into necklaces instead of books. And enjoying myself immensely!

After finishing a bookbinding, it’s the final tidy up time. There are always bits and pieces left and it feels almost difficult to throw them away as they have been an important part of the process I’ve delved in for weeks. For a while now, I’ve been saving a few offcuts of materials from each book I’ve made – they are a great physical record of the creative work gone into each. And the only thing left for me once the book has been sent to its owner. A somewhat backwards way of keeping a sketchbook, but it also serves a function – it ensures I don’t need to throw out test pieces and templates that might come in handy as memory aids in future projects. These are from a very special recent commission I completed, which is now shown in the gallery section together with a full case study – see the engagement book.

Beginning a new project yet again, I put words to what I have been pondering recently.  I thought there would be some sort of change in the visual language of my art after living a while in Dubai. I tend to welcome the influence and inspiration of my surroundings, wherever I am. But what I now see is that my work is becoming just more of what it already was going to be.  My works of today may be interpreted as having acquired some Middle Eastern tones, yet when I compare them to some of my works from 15 years ago, the roots are already there. I’m quite surprised. Maybe that’s why I feel such an affinity with the visuality of this place. It resonates with something I have already been exploring for quite a while… And I will carry on. What an adventure.

I realised I’ve not yet posted any images of our local cafe. It’s not that I’d be taking this one for granted, no. Still three years on, I enjoy this place just as much. Like I’ve said before, whether one likes the style over here or not, isn’t particularly relevant. What I admire, is the attention to detail – that someone cares to make a place like this. Just as much that I like a normal cozy corner cafe, it’s different kind of wonderful to relax in grandeur like this.

For those of you who might want to head for a cuppa in this beautiful Starbucks, it’s located in Dubai’s Ibn Battuta Mall, in its ‘Persia Court’. It’s also worth finding out about the explorer Ibn Battuta, who is the Arabian equivalent of Marco Polo. This mall bearing his name is themed around his travels, therefore you find areas such as ‘China Court’, ‘India Court’ and ‘Egypt Court’ among others, all paying equally stunning attention to the details of their interiors.

For me, as a child, it was growing up near the sea and the forest that left its deepest impression within me for life. It is different now for our little ones. I’m so happy to have similarly strong natural surroundings to take them to which in turn will no doubt leave an impression deep within them. This time it’ll just be the desert and the mountains instead. But the call of the dunes is palpable – only five, she quietly gazes towards the horizon, whispers “Beautiful…” and takes off. Just walks, walks straight ahead, not looking back, just walks. And I have no other option than to follow. I have no doubt, she would just carry on walking, such is the determination in her step. Up and down, over the dunes, into the future…

What amazes me time and again is how beautifully this place is always lit up when it’s dark. Spot lights on palm trees, small sparkles of light in the nooks and crannies of buildings. Walking around the souk Madinat Jumeirah in the tastefully lit up dark is always atmospheric. One of my most favourite evening spots. And now that winter starts to be over and we’re heading to the scorching summer once more, night time will be soon again the only time to go out.

This is a reminder image, a note to self. Ideally to keep my eyes open in the first place, but failing that, to at least look again in search to see. If I was a photographer, I may have taken this image on purpose, who knows. However, being an accidental snapper -most often in a hurry- I only spotted this blue window afterwards. Because of this realisation and the myriad of metaphysical storylines my mind embarked on as a result, this image is one of the most meaningful seeds of inspiration in my digital sketchbook.

The beautiful mountains of Hatta are only just over an hour’s drive away for us. The peculiar water-shaped rocks of Hatta Pools are a lovely area for a picnic and a paddle. On the way, might even pass some baby camels…

The third version of my website is now live. In 2004 the first version was launched on white background. In 2008, we thought it might be great to see the work on dark background instead. And now it’s back to white… May eventually decide! Content is still the same, with some reorganising so information is easier to find and read. The biggest change being the now completely visual navigation in the gallery section.  Some new images are added for those bindings that I was able to get access to. Unfortunately many bindings in the archive are long gone and I have no further imagery, nor high-resolution files, to show. The blog section now allows comments. Some may find interesting the new addition of links in the awards section: you’re able to see which book won which award – again of those works that I have photographs for.

I am of course, as ever, indebted to the master web designer behind all three versions of my site. His vision and skill have always spearheaded the way my work is represented online. And I am indeed very lucky and grateful to have such a creative pioneer for a husband.

For all my adult life, the time around year change has been the most meaningful for me of all annual celebrations. I can feel the different energy and I use it as a fuel to propel me towards a year of brand new possibilities. I reflect and I project. I create visions in my mind, weigh them, infuse them with intention, plant them, care for them and return to see at the end of the year what grew of them. I do this in writing, in a special annual journal in which I only write at this time of year, and have done for the past 19 years. Unless one has a clearly defined goal, it is impossible to aim accurately. I’m so excited about the year ahead because I feel I’ve managed to focus my direction in a very purposeful way which creates a lot of enthusiasm to get started. Creative times ahead!

I enjoyed photographing these fireworks on the first minutes of 2010. The abstract compositions of colour and light sparked my mind off on new paths of creative projects and endeavours. They will also remind me of the beauty of staying focused on my path, to enjoy the journey and to always marvel at the details. For the wondrous whole is all about the perfect balance and interplay of the minutest details. Each detail contributes to the big creation, each tiny step takes me closer to my goal. (Jan10)

Burj al Arab fireworks, stunning as ever. I’m looking forward to this brand new year with great excitement and know it in my bones it’s going to be very special. I wish you all an inspired, uplifting year ahead! (Jan10)

There’s a hidden treasure of a place in the basement of Wafi Mall, Souk Khan Murjan, a modern-made traditional souk (‘Bazaar’ is the word many might recognise better) where no effort has been spared when it comes to decorative details. One might argue that this shiny brand new place lacks the charm of the real old souks but for an artist like myself who creates by visual details, this place is just beautiful. I don’t compare it to the old – like I don’t compare the musty leather bindings of the past to the contemporary designer bindings created these days. Some of this place might be over the top, but just the plain fact that someone goes through such trouble to create a space like this nowadays, is wonderful. It is meant to offer artisan made traditional Arabian arts and crafts. The real shame then is that an increasing amount of these little charming shops are going empty and looks like half of the beautiful heavy wooden doors are shut permanently. I assume the rent is way too high for the footfall there should be to bring in any sales. It is sad to see as this place in particular would be more than ideal to create a buzzling modern artist market in Dubai. Would be great to see something individual and different sold here, as every mall sells the same wares and brands. Although the monthly Arte Souk in Times Square Mall is doing well, all in all contemporary designer crafts have not found their way to Dubai yet, not the way they’re represented in London and the UK in general for example. Hopefully one day… (Dec09)

I’m having this eternal quest to capture the pastel hue moment that occurs just before sunset. But I won’t. Maybe it’s even better that way. Winter is nearly here and it’s possible to stay outside again without melting. So plenty of time to go and see the real thing whenever I wish. (Dec09)

Bits and pieces, boxfulls of materials, some – if briefly opened and glanced at in the three years since our move – still more or less in oblivion. I have been discovering in the studio lately, not just ideas but various treasures I had forgotten I had. Last week I thought of something I’d really need for the next project, but didn’t even think to hunt around in the studio. Yet a few days later happened to open a random box just to find exactly what I wanted. Perhaps it is so in life as well – maybe we have just forgotten and all we need to do is remember. All we need really is there already, to be found just around the corner. (Nov09)

The further I get with a binding, the messier my studio gets. The messier the studio gets, the messier my thinking gets. Tidying up in the middle of a work flow clears my thinking and steadies the hand that holds the tools. But when it gets too late and I get too tired, there’s nothing to be done but give up and sleep, otherwise the whole next day will be wasted correcting mistakes made when too tired. Over the years I’ve learned the point in which to give up, but I occasionally still test it… and re-learn. It’s so much easier and time-efficient to do things right in the first place. (Oct09)

It may still be rather hot but since it has been way too long since our last visit to the dunes, we thought to bear the heat and go anyway. It’s always such a treat, away from the city, like another world. There’s a luxurious desert resort called Bab al Shams, with just the best roof terrace where to lounge and watch the sun go down behind the dunes. But the best of all is just to run up and down the sand waves until out of breath. (Oct09)

Today I started to paint some parchment in preparation for book covers for my current binding. The two main colours of my design are red and black. I’ve always liked the way ink settles on parchment and this time the black sumi-e ink reacted rather nicely with the red calligraphic ink. So much so that I started to look closer and examine the lines and shapes. Then it occurred to me – it looked exactly like hot molten lava exploding from a volcano. Was this a coincidence… my current obsession with rocks and stones brought a piece of lava stone to me just last weekend. I love the way subconscious works. (Oct09)

A display of the various aspects of traditional Islamic bookbinding is on show at the moment at the Cultural Foundation in Abu Dhabi. An article in the National gives an overview of what to expect. The Art and Craft of Islamic Bookbinding is part of “Islam Faith & Worship” exhibition and will be on until 6th October 2009 from 9.30am to 12.30pm and from 4.30 to 8.30pm daily. The Turkish experts are also giving demonstrations.

It’s not often nowadays that I choose to swap my precious evening hours in the atelier to a bar instead. I had never visited Buddha Bar in Dubai, although had heard it to be very nice. What an understatement… I was blown away. And applaud the interior designers as I don’t think it’s possible to get it any more right. A blissful place to spend an evening. (Sept09)

One of my ways to get started on new creative work is to organise materials, bits and pieces, which have no particular meaning, into some sort of visual order. One example being my three dimensional sketches. Another one is my collection of rocks. I’m completely besotted with rocks and minerals, their texture and beauty. And since mandalas are such a centering concept, I often focus myself by making a stone mandala, always a different one. Each stone takes its own place and the feeling is exactly identical to what it is like to put together a book – fitting together various textural and visual elements until it all “clicks”. Just with stones the process is much easier and is therefore the perfect way to release me into making freely. (Sept09)

The Farjam Collection gallery at the Dubai International Finance Centre is showing a wonderful exhibition of historical illuminated Qurans. There are some breathtakingly beautiful books on show – I was particularly intrigued by the scrolls, displayed hanging open on the wall. The exhibition is open at the moment, during Ramadan from Sunday to Thursday 10am – 8pm and Saturdays 12pm – 8pm (Fridays closed). (Sept09)

It’s fabulous to be back! On this year’s extended family tour in Europe, I realised that time away from making art is no vacation for me. A true vacation would be extended, uninterrupted hours in the atelier… If anything, such a long break made me even more convinced that I just could not not make art. Yet I’m going through a lesson of patience at this point in life, when some days the most I manage, is an hour in the studio at night – sometimes only a quick glance around deciding what I’ll do when not so tired. Most of the creating is therefore happening in my head instead as I haven’t yet figured out how to make a fine leather binding with the help of a 9 month old. And blog posts are kept short as I really do need to get a book sewn before midnight. (Sept09)

On the last day in Finland, we enjoyed an afternoon in the forest where there’s a nature trail and a sculpture park “Edvininpolku”. All the sculptures are made by Edvin Hevonkoski, a sheet-metal worker who started to make these wonderful works of art in 1982, after retiring. There are over one hundred pieces dotted along the forest path. Whereas some call this “outsider art”, to me it’s every bit valid as simply art. Incredibly wonderful works in natural surroundings, I aim to visit every year.
More photos can be seen in: Edvin Hevonkoski’s Image Gallery. (Aug09)

English weather has been kind to us this week. Looking up to the sunny sky, the edge of the architectural horizon has caught my eye this time – the “ancientness” of everything, the energy of centuries past is very present. This year also marks the 800th anniversary of the University of Cambridge. Just imagining what it was like to stroll these streets in those early years. Knowing how books were made and regarded those days somehow feels to connect me very closely with that era. (Aug09)

A short drive towards the archipelago coast in Köklot has this amazing shoreline, to which photographs just don’t do justice. Evergreens reaching the sky, rough rocks sharply diving down towards the sea. It was raining, the scenery was fresh and the meditative visit cleared my mind and heart.

The time to leave Finland came earlier than I had planned. It is likely I won’t be seeing my peaceful childhood beach for some while now, so these evening images will travel with me. (Aug09)

Travelled back in time by visiting the open air museum of Stundars on the west coast of Finland. It brings to life how people in this area used to live. On the day of our visit 40 makers were demonstrating their crafts, from weaving and basketry to leatherwork and blacksmithing. Stundars also offers artist residencies for international artists, so if ever wishing to create in this inspiring environment, check out Ateljé Stundars. (Aug09)