Author: Terrie Reddish

This year’s World Book Night theme, The Mountains Are Calling, immediately pulled me toward Aotearoa’s deep geological and cultural layers. Instead of choosing a traditional mountain text, I found myself absorbed in a technical paper: Rūaumoko: More than just a symbol by N. Taute, T. Fa’aui and J.M. Ingham from the University of Auckland’s Department of Civil and Environmental Engineering. Their exploration of Rūaumoko as both atua and earth‑shaping force offered a powerful way to think about mountains not as static forms, but as living, shifting presences.

That duality—cultural story and geological reality—became the heart of my 3D contribution.

Concept

I wanted to create something that felt like a book, a map, and a small act of movement all at once. The structure folds flat to fit the A5 brief, but opens along the fault line that runs through Aotearoa. The opening itself becomes an echo of tectonic motion: the land parting, the story revealing itself.

The front cover holds a map of New Zealand with the fault line marked—our slice of the Pacific Ring of Fire. The closure of the book sits directly on that line, so the act of opening the work mirrors the forces beneath our feet.

The back expands the view to the wider Pacific, showing the full Ring of Fire encircling the ocean. It felt important to place Aotearoa within that larger context, acknowledging that our mountains, volcanoes, and earthquakes are part of a vast, interconnected system.

 Inside the Work

Opening the structure reveals a pop‑up volcano rising from the centre. Around it spirals the creation story of Rūaumoko—atua of earthquakes, volcanoes, and the seasons—whose restless movement shapes the land from below. The text encircles the volcano like a pulse, reminding us that stories and science often describe the same forces in different languages.

This interplay between engineering paper and pūrākau became the guiding thread: two knowledge systems, both explaining why the ground moves and mountains grow.

Process

I’ll be sharing two photos alongside this post:

• my yellow‑and‑red prototype, where I worked out the mechanics and proportions
• the final orange‑and‑red version, where the colours echo heat, magma, and the energy of Rūaumoko

The pop‑up engineering was its own small challenge—balancing height, foldability, and the need to collapse neatly into an A5 envelope. The final structure opens cleanly and stands firmly, which feels like a small triumph given the constraints.

About World Book Night 2026

This year’s brief invited artists to respond to a text about mountains, creating a 2D or 3D work that folds flat for mailing. Organised by Sarah Bodman and Linda Parr with input from Nancy Campbell, WBN brings together artists from around the world for an exhibition, mail art swap, and online gallery. All works will be shown at Bower Ashton Library, UWE Bristol, from April to July 2026.

I love participating each year—there’s something special about sending a piece of work out into the world and receiving another artist’s response in return.

Closing Thoughts

Mountains are often seen as symbols of permanence, but in Aotearoa they are reminders of constant change. Rūaumoko’s presence beneath the land keeps everything in motion. Responding to this theme through both science and story felt like a way to honour that dynamism.

I’m looking forward to seeing the full collection of works when the exhibition opens—and to discovering whose piece will arrive in my mailbox in return.

In May 2025, a small group quietly marked a milestone: the 85th birthday of poet, printer, editor, and perennial provocateur of the printed word, Alan Loney. It was an occasion that called for something more than a card or a congratulatory email. Alan has never been a figure who fits tidily into a single category, so a conventional tribute would have felt insufficient. Instead, a group of friends, colleagues, and fellow printers gathered their thoughts, memories, and acknowledgements into a small Festschrift — a form traditionally used in academia, but entirely fitting for someone whose life has been spent at the intersection of scholarship, craft, and creative inquiry.

A Tradition Renewed

Ten years earlier, for Alan’s 75th, Brendan O’Brien coordinated a small foldered set of acknowledgements from five contributors. Around twenty copies were produced, enough for each writer, a few for Alan, and the remainder sold to cover costs.

Ten years later, I felt the impulse to honour Alan again, this time with a wider group and a broader scope.

An Exhibition Without Its Guest of Honour

Alan had planned to travel to Christchurch for the opening of a small exhibition marking 50 years of Hawk Press, curated by Peter Vangioni for the new library and archives display area at the Christchurch City Art Gallery. Medical advice meant he couldn’t attend, but the exhibition went ahead, beautifully installed. In his absence, the Festschrift became a way for the community to gather around him in print.

The Contributors

The eleven contributors reflect the breadth of Alan’s relationships and influence:

Pressing On

Festschrift LXXXV is modest in scale but rich in intention. It stands as a collective thank‑you to someone who has spent a lifetime in conversation with the book — its form, its meaning, its possibilities. For those of us who contributed, it was a privilege to acknowledge that ongoing influence in the medium Alan has always championed: print itself.

A Bespoke Portfolio for a Red‑Letter Occasion

To house the eleven contributions, I designed and made a two‑flap portfolio with a red cover — a nod to the “red‑letter” significance of Alan’s 85th. The cover carries a blind‑embossed LXXXV, understated but celebratory.

Only 24 were produced, and five copies remain available.

Making the Portfolios

With the eleven contributions received, the next stage was to create a portfolio that would house them with the care and dignity the project deserved.

1. Collating the Contributions

Once all the pieces arrived, I laid them out across the dining table and collated them into 24 complete sets. This is always a grounding moment — the shift from individual sheets to a coherent body of work.

2. Cutting and Shaping the Boards

Each portfolio is built from several precisely cut pieces of board. Some require additional shaping to accommodate the magnetic closure:

• the larger left flap, which carries the title,
• and the smaller right flap, which is notched so the closure tab sits flush.

Accuracy at this stage determines how cleanly everything will align later.

3. Preparing the Embossed LXXXV

The Roman numerals were cut separately, glued to the front board, and left to dry. Once the red cover paper was applied, I used a bone folder to work the paper down around the raised numerals, creating a crisp, understated blind emboss. It’s a small detail, but it gives the portfolio its quiet sense of occasion.

4. Covering the Boards in Red

The boards were then covered in the chosen red paper — a deliberate nod to this “red‑letter” birthday.

The paper is turned in neatly before the inner coverings are applied. At this point, the two neodymium magnets must be positioned with absolute precision and buried within the board layers. If they’re even slightly misaligned, the closure won’t meet cleanly.

5. Infill, Lining, and Foil Stamping

Once the outer structure was complete, I infilled the boards and lined the interior. 

Before final assembly, I hot‑foiled my IMPRIMO logo and name — a small but important signature of origin.

The last internal element is the black two‑flap enclosure, which holds the contributions. This is glued in once all the lining is dry and flat.

6. Drying Time — The Invisible Stage

There is a surprising amount of waiting in a project like this. Adhesive must dry thoroughly between stages, and because both sides of the boards receive adhesive, everything settles flat and true once cured. It’s slow, but essential for a crisp, professional finish.

7. Boxing and Wrapping for Posting

With the portfolios complete, the final task was to ensure they would travel safely. I made custom white foam‑board boxes for each one — fitted, cushioned, and designed to prevent corner damage in transit.

Each boxed portfolio was then wrapped in heavy brown paper, addressed, and sent off to its new home.

Over the past decade, my inbox has filled with a steady stream of conversations between Melbourne-based printer, poet, and author Alan Loney and me. What began in 2016 at a Printing Masterclass in Wellington—where Alan was teaching and I was learning—has never really stopped. Those email threads have become a place where I ask questions about whatever I’m working on, and Alan replies with the depth of someone who has spent a lifetime thinking about paper, ink, type, and the craft of printing.

The conversations with Alan zine series grew out of those exchanges. Each issue pairs my questions (set in Open Sans) with Alan’s responses (set in Georgia), inviting anyone who is curious to quietly “listen in” and share the learning.

With the release of Zine No. 3: Type, there are now three titles in the ongoing series:

1. Paper
2. Ink
3. Type

All three are DLE-sized, printed in black and white, with a light card cover and 12 pages. Publishing is infrequent—simply whenever I have the time—so each edition arrives when it’s ready, not on a schedule.

Zine No. 3: Type

This latest edition turns its attention to type, a subject Alan and I return to often. From favourite faces to the realities of “making do,” Alan’s reflections remind us how type shapes both craft and conversation.

This issue also includes a free keepsake, tucked neatly inside the cover but removable. It explains the difference between font and typeface—a distinction printers know well, but one that still sparks lively discussion.

A milestone year for Alan

2025 has been a significant year for Alan:

• A celebratory Melbourne lunch with publisher Nick Summers and me
• His 85th birthday, marked by a limited-edition Festschrift (24 copies, with 8 still available)
• An exhibition curated by Peter Vangioni at Christchurch Art Gallery honouring the fiftieth anniversary of Hawk Press

For those who would like to explore more of Alan’s work, I recommend:

• A Hawk in Magpie Country
• Francis McWhannell’s essay As Far as the Hawk Eye Can See

Ordering information

Postage has increased, but I’ve kept the overall price low by turning a practice print into your keepsake. Prices include postage and packing:

Region	Price	Payment options
New Zealand	NZ$10	Online banking*
Australia	Wise NZ$11 / PayPal NZ$12	Wise or PayPal
Rest of world	Wise NZ$15 / PayPal NZ$17	Wise or PayPal

*Online banking: Terrie Reddish — ASB 12-3055-0137745-00

The easiest and cheapest way to pay from overseas is via Wise: https://wise.com/pay/me/terrier5 (Or I can send a payment request.)

I can also accept payments or send invoices via PayPal using my new email address: imprimo@terrie-reddish.co.nz

Previous issues

Issues 1 (Paper) and 2 (Ink) are still available. If you’d like the full set of three, I’m happy to bundle them.

If you’d like to be notified when the next zine is published, I can add you to the mailing list. As always, publication is occasional—just whenever time allows.

One of the quiet joys of bookbinding repair is the privilege of seeing the “inside” of a book—its structure, its wear, and sometimes, its secrets. I recently helped a bookbinding friend with the sewing portion of a restoration project, a task I always relish. It’s meditative work, and it offers a rare intimacy with the book’s anatomy.

This particular volume was a leather-covered journal, originally sold as a blank book. Over time, it had become a vessel for memory. Someone—or perhaps several people—had filled its pages with fountain pen entries in a graceful, looping script. Among the writings was a vivid account of a sea voyage from London to New Zealand, dated 1855–1856. The author’s reflections, penned with care, turned the journal into a historical artifact, rich with personal narrative and maritime detail.

But the years had not been kind. The spine had broken down through use, and various well-meaning repairs had been made to keep the book block intact and the boards attached. Some pages were held in place with yellowing sticky tape, a common but unfortunate fix that had begun to stain and stiffen the paper.

My role was to gently undo those interventions. I removed the tape and replaced it with Japanese tissue—a much more sympathetic material that allows flexibility and longevity. Once the pages were stabilised, I resewed the signatures onto raime tapes, preparing the book for its next phase: reattaching the boards and restoring its structure.

It’s always satisfying to return a book to useable form, especially one that carries such a personal and historical weight. And for me, the sewing is more than a technical step—it’s a way of connecting with the book’s past and ensuring its future.

JUST MY TYPE looks and functions like a book. It has all the structural elements of a book and is created with all the traditional equipment of the letterpress printer and bookbinder. I wanted to create both a useful tool and a beautiful art object.

thinking…
I often find myself thinking about what typeface/ font/ point size to use in my letterpress printing. Computer mock-ups are never quite the same as printing with cast metal and wood type. I wanted actual printed examples (type samplers) of the different fonts and point sizes for each typeface.

unfolding…
I needed to create a folded paper structure that would present the sampler cards in a way they could be removed and returned, seen and yet protected. Then I read Hedi Kyle’s new book, Art of the Fold, and saw a variety of pocket accordion structures.

binding…
Monique Lallier’s New Oriental binding seemed the perfect way to bind the modified pockets which I had sewn on to folded stubs of paper (inner spine). The resulting book displays a range of type samplers when either lying on its substantial spine or standing with the aid of the leather covered boards.

Water is a limited resource. It is needed for all living things and must be managed well to ensure we have enough for our needs and to protect our environment. Water is the primary medium through which we will feel the effects of climate change.

I have recently begun thinking about our most precious resource – water (wai in Maori) especially since the 2016 Havelock North water contamination where an estimated 5,000 people became ill as a result of campylobacter contamination. Four deaths were linked to the contamination.

My artist’s book WATER has been selected for the 2019 Hawke’s Bay Art Review. It is an 11 page, letterpress printed hand bound book. I printed on my Cropper Carlton proofing press with wood and metal type along with hand cut type high wood blocks on 120gm Crane lettra paper. Each one sided page was folded at the fore edge and bound with navy endpapers decorated with blue foil applied with heated handmade brass tools. The book features a tue-mouche binding with gold foil titling and decoration on the cover and spine.

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Recently I purchased two old wooden boxes containing brass rule and some dusty metal “sorts”. Sorts are cast metal type used for printing. I soon discovered that the sorts included some picture blocks but I could not make out what they actually depicted nor figure out how they were designed to be used.

After many hours of internet searching I found a photo of metal type that looked like mine. The American letterpress printer who owned them thought that they were from MacKellar, Smiths, & Jordan. MacKellar, Smiths, & Jordan was type foundry based in Philadelphia. It was the dominant American metal type foundry, and became the main branch in the creation of American Type Founders in 1892. It continued to operate until the Philadelphia factory was destroyed in 1910.

In 1892 MacKellar, Smiths and Jordan published their Specimens of printing types: ornaments, borders, corners, rules, emblems, initials, &c.  After more searching I discovered a page in their book entitled Combination Orient Border containing all the picture blocks I had. While I do not have a full set, I had enough to create a January calendar page for the Association of Hand Printers in New Zealand.