Book Artist Emma Lehto, all photos c/o

Sad Mag writer Grant Hurley first met Emma Lehto in October at the Alcuin Societys biennial Wayzgoose, an event that brings together fine press printers, book artists, bookbinders, typographers and designers to celebrate the beauty of the book. Utterly impressed with her work, Hurley caught up with Lehto a couple months after the event to chat about her artworks and creative process.

Sad Mag: Who are you?
I’m Emma Lehto. I am a book artist. I work predominately with books and typography.

SM: When I first encountered your works at the Wayzgoose, I was really interested in the contrast between your work and that of others at the event. Many of the exhibitors there were working to create new books, whereas your pieces subtract from preexisting books to create something new. Can you describe a few of your artworks and the processes you took to make them?
EL: I was so pleased that the Alcuin Wayzgoose invited me back this year to the exhibition. I was invited the previous year too, and my work was definitely a juxtaposition to the majority of the work exhibited. I think it’s healthy to be able to see contrasting creations/ideas in the similar topics. Everyone can draw from each other’s work, regardless if it’s appreciated or not.

Most of my projects start with a very simple question, “What if I did __________ to a book? What would happen, and what would it look like?” All of my projects stem from my curiosity, and from there I just run with it. I can try to imagine what might happen as a result – but that doesn’t mean it will turn out that way. Assumptions never work.

What can I do without having the book fall apart? How can I alter the book form without removing the familiarity of it?

Detail from Amended, 2010

SM: Where do you begin in your process?
EL: If I have an idea for a book, I’ll test it out first. I usually begin by doing different test/experiments/variations of the same idea on different books. Not all books are made the same, so oftentimes the possibilities are endless, including cutting up pages, removing text (which alters layout of pages), breaking the spine, and folding pages, to name a few. It’s a constant science experiment. I still have one book sitting in a block of ice in my freezer – it’s been there for the past 3 years. Some experiments evidently last longer than others.

I just see it as problem solving, trying to find different solutions. Usually, I end up discovering new ideas this way as well. The story/topic of the book is never the focus: I’m far more interested in the aesthetic of the end result. It’s one big treasure hunt with a few paper cuts along the way.

SM: Can you describe one of your recent projects?
EL: In one of my book artworks, Amended, I started with the question: “What would it look like if I cut out all of the words from a book and then put all of the words in alphabetical order?” I really thought I would end up with 26 pages of words and two cut up books. Was I ever wrong. I had more questions than I did answers. I had 48 pages of words, and almost 2 pages each of the words “and” & “the” and a blank page for the letter x. (There weren’t any words that started with the letter x in this book).

During my time working on Amended, the process was very surreal as the words took new form. Seeing the words taken out of context and placed in alphabetical order, the individual meanings of the words were eliminated. I had removed the original intention of the purpose of the words. They were now isolated from the story.

However, on the flip side of this, the book was still intact, and everything was there except the text. The majority of the anatomy of the book was untouched: the binding, the pages, and front and back cover. The layouts of each page were present. You could tell when there was a beginning of a new paragraph, where the page numbers were, and most of the punctuation was left. By maintaining the anatomy of the books it kept the familiarity of what makes a book a book. Also by leaving those elements intact, it allows for a “safer” environment for an audience to approach the work and engage with it.

Detail from Pink & Gold, 2013

SM: One of the most memorable pieces of yours for me is the edition of War and Peace that you shot through with a gun. What was its genesis?
EL: It was a very basic “What would happen if I… Shot some books? Which came from the idea that “a telephone book can stop a bullet.” I thought, would it? How do I know a telephone book can do that? I’ve never seen it, just heard about it.

I had some books of folded up paper, twisted, and tied up. I just wanted to see what it would look like. As a result, some bullets lodged in the spine and it was interesting to see the paper that was folded suddenly juxtaposed with a path piercing right through it. You can see the entry of the bullet, and the direction of the bullet.

The books I chose to shoot were romance novels. There seems to be an abundance of them everywhere at any given moment. These books are cheaply made, thick, cheap and if I needed more of them I wouldn’t be scrambling to find them.

SM: It seems like you’re interested in some of the tactile aspects of books; I find your work really encourages an audience to note the physical nature of books before their content. What are some other projects that you’ve completed that contrast this approach?
EL: I had a book sitting in Coca Cola for over a few months (similar to the tooth sitting in Coke test) wondering would the book disintegrate? Well, not exactly. It turned into a sponge there wasn’t any liquid left after a few months and the book is now green and fuzzy.

Detail from Fields of 13, 2009

Another book is sitting in hair relaxer. The book looks like it’s turned a few shades darker, the relaxer looks like it hasn’t changed since.

SM: Almost the opposite of something I’d like to hold in my hands! Any future projects planned?
EL: I always seem to have a few ideas brewing in my head. It’s just a matter of which idea to pick while its still fresh in my mind. Currently, I’ve been quite fascinated with paper construction and different layouts of text and mostly playing with the idea of introducing negative space into the book form without losing the familiarity or readability of it. If anything, I’m really looking forward just to where these ideas go and how I can play around with them.

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Check out Emma’s work in the Mezzanine Gallery of the Queen Elizabeth Theatre until January 19 as part of the group show Final Project. Also featuring the work of Kat Cortes, Tara Hach, Talent Pun, Carlo Sayo. 

Andrea Potter of Rooted Nutrition. {photo c/o Grant Hurley}

Not too long ago, I stopped by the Homesteader’s Emporium at 649 East Hastings to take part in Kombucha 101, a class offered by the Emporium and taught by Vancouver chef and nutritionist Andrea Potter. After a hectic career in the fine dining industry, Andrea started Rooted Nutrition, a cooking and consulting business, in an effort to empower individuals to bring healthy cooking into their homes. In addition to offering workshops such as this one, Andrea teaches cooking classes, sells a line of probiotic foods, and consults with individuals on holistic nutrition.

Packed into the back room of Homesteader’s Emporium were 30 excited people united by one desire: to make tasty DIY Kombucha. Why? Kombucha is one incredibly delicious drink. Despite its current fashion and easy availability in health food stores, something of an air of mystery still surrounds Kombucha, and few purchasers take the leap to making it for themselves. As Andrea demonstrated to us, it’s ridiculously easy and cheap to make.

Prospective Kombucha-makers need four basic ingredients: brewed tea (green or black tea make good starts for first-timers), sugar, a glass jar and, most importantly, a SCOBY or “mother.” The mother is what transforms tea, sugar and time into Kombucha. To get one, you can either buy a rehydrated SCOBY from Homesteader’s Emporium, or make friends with someone who brews Kombucha already and ask them to give you a SCOBY. While asking someone for a SCOBY sounds gross, it’ll be worth it when you taste that Kombucha tea.

be sure to check the website for more events!

Like beer or wine, Kombucha is a fermented beverage. Fermentation occurs in the same manner as many such drinks with the addition of a yeast or bacterial culture. In this case, it’s a symbiotic colony of yeast and bacteria (if you just figured out that SCOBY is an acronym for “symbiotic colony of yeast and bacteria,” you win). The SCOBY sits atop any tea concoction you make and, by taking up sugar and other nutrients, ferments it into a slightly fizzy, slightly alcoholic (0.5%-3.0% max) beverage. Aside from its lovely cider-like taste, many are also taken with its health benefits. Andrea focused on the basic ones: B vitamins and probiotics, which are added to the drink by the fermentation process, and help in digestion and energy renewal. In addition to fermenting the tea, the mother also creates offspring (sometimes called “babies”) that can be used to make more Kombucha or composted.

In the end, you can bottle your drink, add fruit juices, or store it to create even more aged Kombucha for weirder flavours. Every batch is slightly different depending on the SCOBY and variables of time, temperature and nutrients, which is why Kombucha has resisted large-scale commercialization (apparently Coca-Cola tried and failed). Check out instructions online or look out for another Homesteader’s workshop to get the whole story on how to make it.

Now, I’ve got my covered jar with a little SCOBY floating in it on top of my kitchen cabinets. Resisting the urge to check on it every day is nearly impossible. It’s like having a weird, pancake-shaped pet that silently makes me tasty beverages.  I’m waiting for the day my little SCOBY grows up and makes me some Kombucha tea!

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Want to learn more? Check out Sad Mag’s interview with Homesteader’s owner, Rick Havlak,  and make sure to check out upcoming workshops at Homesteader’s Emporium! 

Havlak leads the way at one of Homesteader's many DIY classes

Have you ever wanted to create a loving home for urban bees? Us neither. Sad Mag does love the local honeys, though, especially in sweet tea, and we’re not averse to getting a little sticky now and again in pursuit of authentic consumables. So when Sad Mag learned about Homesteader’s Emporium, in East east Van, we had to get the dirt on what Rick Havlak’s urban homesteading supply shop is all about. From  classes that will teach you how to make your own Kombucha, to that pivotal item (rennet) you’ll need to create your own cheese, Homesteader’s is a friendly, practical and adventurous store, run by a guy who is more of the same.

 

Sad Mag: Who are you?
Rick Havlak: My name is Rick Havlak, I’m the owner of Homesteader’s Emporium. And also the founder of Homesteader’s Emporium!

SM: Splendid. And when did you start your business?
RH: I started working on this full time almost exactly two years ago, which is kind of crazy to think about, but the store’s actually been open for about fifteen months now.

SM: Can you explain to someone off the street what Homesteader’s Emporium is all about?
RH: Homesteader’s Emporium is a resource for people who are learning to become more self-sufficient. We use the catch-all phrase “urban homesteading” to refer to a suite of activities like beekeeping, chicken keeping, canning vegetables, making your own soap, baking bread, making sausage, curing meats, and growing vegetables. It’s a broad spectrum of activities that all kind of appeal to the same group of people.

We’re a resource: we sell hard-to-find supplies for all of those things and more. We’ve also gotten more and more into providing educational programs because in many cases you’re trying to learn something, but maybe you don’t know anybody in your circle of friends that does it, so we found a real need for classes.

SM: Right, I guess it only goes so far to sell the tool for something if someone doesn’t know how to use it.
RH: We initially thought that we would get by providing all of these base raw materials and we would cater to people who had done the legwork and knew that—[like] for cheesemaking, if you know you need rennet and you know exactly what supplies you need, you just walk down to the store and you pick them all up—but we’re finding more and more that there’s a demand for something that’s packaged together.

Sad Mag wants to send every Austrian we've ever met to Sauerkraut 101

SM: In the year that you’ve been open, do you have an “average” Homesteader’s Emporium customer?
RH: That’s an excellent question. And it is extremely diverse. There are a lot of different people that come into the store for a lot of different reasons. We get people who are just in the neighbourhood who treat us as their neighbourhood store for things like gardening tools, but what we imagined when we opened the store was that we would be more of a destination, so that’s still a broad group of people. People who are interested in specifically the stuff that we have that are coming from all over Vancouver to find it.

But to get back to your question: we have a lot of young parents who are interested in teaching their kids some more back-to-basics information; a lot of people who maybe had chickens when they were young or they used to can with their grandparents or with their mother and they’ve forgotten how to do it because they hadn’t valued it enough to learn it until recently. We get a smattering of people who do live out in the country and are what you might consider more traditional homesteaders, where they live on a piece of land and they actually produce a significant amount of their own food. They are much more self-sufficient than most so-called urban homesteaders would even aspire to be. And then we get “preppers”: people who are motivated primarily by the concern that the next big earthquake is going to catch us all with our pants down—which it probably is. And then a lot of weekend warriors, people who are maybe professionals who are just interested in learning something different, and foodies who are really passionate about food and are accustomed to going out to nice restaurants and coming at it from that point of view.

SM: Going back to a bit more about yourself: what brought you to the concept of Homesteader’s Emporium?
RH: Basically it’s the store that I wanted to shop at. Immediately what got me into doing this kind of thing was a really serious homebrewing habit. My buddy and I got super into homebrewing and we would spend a huge amount of time watching the brew kettle and talking about improving it in different ways. It’s sort of a slippery slope where you hold this beer in your hand and you realize that it’s better than most of the stuff that you buy and you made that yourself, and maybe two years ago you never would have imagined that you could do that. As you’re holding this beer in your hand and you’re watching this kettle boil for 90 minutes you get to thinking—what else can I make?

We just started trying a lot of different things. We tried coffee roasting, we started making cheese and we built a beehive—all just by skulking around the internet trying to find somebody’s blog or obscure website that had some information about what we should do—what kind of things did we need to use. With cheese, there’s this mysterious compound called rennet and we knew we needed to buy it and we searched all over time and finally found it in the back aisle of Famous Foods.

What we continually found was that we would bring it up in social situations and so many people were interested in hearing about it. It’s such a compelling thing to discuss. I felt that there was a lot of interest and there needed to be just one place where you could walk in say “tell me all I need to know and set me up with what I need.” There has never been a place like that in Vancouver to my knowledge.

649 East Hastings Street

SM: Do you have any ideas about why there’s such a renewed interest in homesteading?
RH: In the 1950’s—and I wasn’t alive then—it became sort of a status symbol to not have to do all this drudgery in your kitchen. I was looking through this book on coffee roasting and it had some funny ads from around that era advertising pre-roasted coffee with a picture of a woman burning coffee in her kitchen. And mocking her for having the poor judgement to do it herself instead of just going out and buying it in a can. It was part of the cookie cutter American dream—your food came from a grocery store and you had a middle-class job and you didn’t have to break your back toiling in the garden. But now we’ve come to a point where we’ve lost the idea that being involved with your food is something you have to do because you can’t afford not to—and now we’re far enough away from it that it’s become a curiosity and also a point of nostalgia.

It’s a mix of familiar and unfamiliar—cheese and coffee—but if you ask someone on the street, “how is it made and where does it come from?” it can be a total mystery. For me and for a lot of people it’s very exciting to peel that back and look into something that we’re not exposed to often.

SM: In terms of customers’ interests, what do you think is the next “big thing”?
RH: There seems to be a huge awakening of interest in fermented foods and cultured foods and the idea that it’s okay to eat things that aren’t sterile because there’s microbes all around us and we might as well be putting ones into our bodies that are beneficial to us. So we’ve really noticed that there are a lot of people who are interested in making fermented vegetables, and in particular, sauerkraut. I grew up thinking it was this sort of soggy, skunky-smelling pale shreddy stuff, but it’s true that once you start making it, you just start finding ways to eat it and put it in your diet. It’s very healthy.

SM: What have you got going at your house right now?
RH: I started out trying this heritage Swedish yogurt cultured called filmjölk, which I make from raw milk that I obtain on the grey market. And that’s really nice. I’ve got a bunch of sauerkraut on the go, and I’ve got a bunch of meat on the go because we got a bunch of honey out of our beehives this year.

SM: And you’ve been curing your own meats too?
RH: I’ve been making bacon now fairly regularly. That’s sort of the entry point for many people. Because it’s incredibly delicious – with a minimum amount of time and equipment you can produce something that’s noticeably better than what you would purchase in the store, which is quite seductive.

Seductive. And perfect place to end. Thanks, Rick!