[Guest author note: In 2019, I attended an eightieth birthday party for the New York City poet Tony Towle. The gathering was hosted by Tony’s good friend, the artist Jean Holabird, and Tony’s partner, the actress Diane Taylor. Having arrived at Jean’s Tribeca loft early, I had an opportunity to see some recent work. In particular, she shared a series of impressionistic Moleskine notebooks that she kept while traveling around the country on Amtrak over a period of two years during which her loft was being renovated by the owner. The drawings and poetic jottings in these notebooks blew me away, conjuring comparisons in my mind with the Fourteenth Century Travels of Sir John Mandeville or the travel poems of Elizabeth Bishop. Jean’s notebooks contain visual and textual snapshots, stills, and scenes from the places and moments she encountered on her wanderings, capturing poetic fragments of New York and America before and during the pandemic. Perhaps the larger story of place and time that her notebooks convey won’t be clear until many years hence. I asked Jean Holabird to contribute to this blog with a short reflection on her travel notebooks along with some images. Thank you so much, Jean!]
Life, Illustrated
Since my teens, I have chronicled life and travels in various media: writing, sketching in pencil, watercolors, oil paintings. The Moleskine notebooks did not coalesce into their present incarnation until 5 or 6 years ago. They have become, in effect, “visual” or “graphic” diaries.
I was led to this gradually: remember watching my father draw on family trips (and trying to emulate) – a show of Roy Lichtenstein sketchbooks at MoMA several years ago (enchanting jottings of designs and ideas in colored pencil) – and, more recently, seeing the tiny notebooks kept by my friend, the wonderful artist John Willenbecher (filled with magical bits and pieces that had caught his fancy).
Although depiction of the amazing places I have been lucky enough to visit has always been the driving force, there is also, as a friend opined, an attempt to “own” the objects of interest. Thus, the notebooks are, in a sense, the means to “own” my daily life. This was very important during the 2 years I spent as a nomad while my building was being re-furnished – the books were like anchors, mooring me to the present.
In the year of the pandemic, they were companions as I roamed the emptiness of Lower Manhattan, marveling at, and recording the glorious blossoming of restaurants in the streets.
Most of all, the notebooks are a fun way to keep track, seeing, and working. They are also quite useful at rendering the past retrievable, and providing material to be used in other formats.
Jean Holabird, July, 2021