The journey from London
                         via Birmingham takes four hours and forty-two
                        minutes and surprisingly, considering the recent appalling
                        weather and railway woes in general, the train
                        arrived in Aberystwyth precisely on time. 
A short taxi ride to the seafront
                        plunged me instantly into the ambiance of an earlier
                        century which I could feel but not describe,
                        embedded in the colours of sea, sky, slate, iron and
                        the uniquely luminous green green grass of Wales.
My bed and breakfast was situated
                        at the far end of the windswept, mostly
                        deserted promenade facing the black sand beach and
                        fiercely foaming sea. 
Mary Husted
                        and her husband Andrew Vincent were staying in a hotel
                nearby and  we went for a very tasty dinner at
                        a Spanish delicatessen-restaurant which they had discovered.
                        Walking back afterwards we were treated to a spectacular
                        sunset, unlike any I've ever seen. Unfortunately I didn't
                        think of turning on the movie option in my camera and
                        missed recording the 
                        iridescent splashes of blue gradually morphing into geometric
                        patterns and perfectly horizontal golden lines. 
The opening of the exhibition was
                        the next  afternoon.  It's a long walk uphill
                        so I went with Mary and Andrew in their
                        car and had my first sight of the National Library of
                        Wales which occupies a stunning position high above
                        the town. 
In contrast to its forbidding
                        institutional exterior, the Library's interior is warm
                        and welcoming, full of history and surprises.
                        At the top of a grand staircase is the entrance to  Open
                        Books. You
                        are greeted by three very different works cascading vertically
                        from the top of a tall glass case: Frank Vigneron's Le
                        Songe Creux 274 , GW
                        Bot's Australglyph
                            Book: Night and Day and David Gould's Exquisite
                        Corpses.  I'm not
                        going to attempt a review of this excellent exhibition
                        but it deserves, and I hope will get, the attention of
                        the best critical minds/eyes wherever they may be, in
                        the art world and beyond.
All the works and details about
                        the artists are in the catalogue,
                the whole of which is viewable online. 
                     A big disappointment
                        for me was that Clive Hicks-Jenkins couldn't be at the
                        opening and was away the whole weekend. I was so looking
                        forward to a real-life encounter with the man behind
                        the fabulous ArtLog                    and
                        to seeing his work which I greatly admire.                     We
                        have never met but know of each other via our websites
                        and through mutual friends Frances and Nicolas McDowall
                        with whose Old
                        Stile Press we have both published
                        books. It was Clive who introduced
                        me via the internet to Mary Husted and 
                        my presence in this exhibition is thanks to him,
                        to Mary and, needless to say but I'll say it, to my own...ahem...undeniable
                        talent.  
The front of  My Life stands
                        unfolded on a red plinth inside a four-tiered case. Floating
                        on a glass shelf above is Ou
                        Da Wei's Mountainous
                        Leisure  while Alan Salisbury's trompe
                        l'oeil Pears
                        on a Table recline
                        below and at ground levelTULU Girls by Sue
                        Williams cavort in a circle: three strongly individualistic
                        works whose company I am very happy to be in. 
On the other side of the case,
                         the reverse of My Life is fully unfolded: the
                         red of the plinth serendipitously matches  the reds
                         in my images.  Above  is Maggie James'
                        Peripheral Spaces, another work I'm glad to be
                        close to. 
Clive Hicks-Jenkins' bold and inventive Alphabet
                            Primer draws you into its folkloric universe. 
Mary Husted's Episodes are
                        glimpses into a rich inner landscape, giving you just
                        enough information to dream your own story.  
After the introductory speches,
                        we  gathered for drinks in a conference room. Mary
                        Husted is in the centre with Jaimie Thomas (in red cardigan)
                        the Library's Exhibitions Officer. Behind them in profile
                        is Mary's husband Andrew. There will be official pictures
                        of the exhibition, no doubt better than mine, and those
                        of us who were present at the opening were photographed
                as a group - I'll post them when available.

 
Artists' books are notoriously
                        tricky to exhibit. Ideally they
                        should be shown as sculpture -  upright and
                        free of enclosure in an invigilated gallery. But this
                        is generally a practical impossibility and curators have
                        a very difficult task trying to achieve maximum exposure
                        for each unorthodox object within given constraints
                        of space, lighting and available glass cases. In a group
                        show such as this one, with quite a large number
                        of concertina books,  Mary Husted has done
                        and is doing a wonderfully enthusiastic, committed and
                        caring curatorial job and I trust she will succeed in
                        her aim to tour this terrific exhibition far and wide.
                        
 Meanwhile it is beautifully at
                        home within the magnificent National Library of Wales
                        and you have until September 22nd to walk, run, ride
                        or fly to see it. 
Below are some more reasons why
                        I was very glad to visit Aberystwyth. 
 What's left of the 13th century Aberystwyth Castle.
  
I don't know this stone-caped gentleman's
                        name but he was obviously a distinguished professor since
                        he is immortalised in front of the Old
                        College on the seafront. What do you think the book
                        is that's he's holding?  
In
                    my hotel room, before going
                        to the station to catch my train back to London.
I'll also be
                            posting a movie as soon as I've edited it.