The Art of Ephemera -- Right or Wrong?

Many posts ago a local librarian asked me why I had the word cat in my blog title when I never mentioned the cat. Of course it didn't take much to remedy THAT sin of omission, but now it's been brought to my attention that I never mention art and art is in the title too. I love art and even play at something my husband generously refers to as art, but Mary Cassatt I am not. However, now that I've been nudged, I've decided to write about my, shall we say "creative outlet", not only to fulfill the art thing, but because it ties into my love of ephemera and a problem ephemera can pose for book and paper sellers.

Vintage magazines, catalogs, diaries, letters, postcards, brochures, pamphlets, luggage labels, etc. can be purchased by the piece, in collections, and in lots at auction. The problem with the latter is that not all items sold in box lots are of equal value or interest. For example, I may bid to get a stunning catalog featuring atriums from the 1920's and a brochure showing the configuration of various Pullman berths in railroad cars. But along with the goodies I end up with a boatload of torn magazine pages, damaged postcards, stained invitations, and parts of dance cards. None are saleable and yet to throw them away seems like tossing history in the wastebasket. What then to do?

For ten years my answer had been to mindlessly save it all until suddenly I found myself with two huge plastic Rubbermaid tubs overflowing with the stuff. An idea for something had been rattling around in my head, but it seemed sort of sacriligious. Ever since we went to Vermont and I saw at the Shelbourne Museum the charming Hannah Davis bandboxes which Hannah covered with wallpaper and sold to the mill girls in New England, I'd wanted to put a new/old spin on bandboxes. My idea was to skip the wallpaper and use vintage paper, new paper, mixed media, and even "hardware" to create bandboxes with texture, hopefully beauty, and a sense of fun. But to do this meant tearing up the "pieces parts" I'd been saving. Finally, after much sorting and resorting of items it occurred to me that many dealers would have tossed the lot at the start. Could it be that if a portion is saved by transformation, that's a good thing? Yes. Maybe. And so the new/old bandboxes were born.

Above I have posted photos of one made previously and given as a gift to my friend Jessica, who is the quintessential beach girl. What you see is comprised of layers of tissue paper, napkins, sandpaper, ribbed corrugated, paint, part of a letter, advertising, newspaper, a Victorian die-cut and a section from an old greeting card. Though I don't have a picture of it to show you, an earlier box incorporated advertising for a shoe-shine apparatus called a Dandi-Shiner which went to my friend and writer's group compatriot, Dandi Mackall.

In the end, I think it's okay to use old paper to make altered books, boxes, and any other forms of artwork as long as nothing of historical value is defaced. The flotsam and jetsom of our lives tell the story of our culture. To save it, even in scraps, is a gift to future generations.