RIP Serge Pirard, mould maker (1974–2024)

Last week I was in NYC for a whirlwind trip to see friends, family, and table at an art fair that went really well. Except when I got horrible news right before my last two days of tabling work.

I learned from Claudine Latron that on July 16, we lost the inimitable Serge Pirard, a Belgian mould maker who worked directly in the English mould making tradition, trained by the late Ron Macdonald. Serge would have been 50 yesterday (Sept 10) and left us far too soon.

I am far too bereft and heartbroken to adequately pay homage to Serge's memory, but all of us who had the joy of knowing him, working with his tools, and meeting him at various gatherings of papermakers, have lost a giant. Not only was he very tall, he was the last thoroughly trained mould maker in this tradition, making every bit of the tool by his own hand, and received Ron's blessing to continue his legacy.

Serge and his friend Bernard transported Ron's enormous loom to weave mould facings from England to Belgium, which had been built in 1889 for Amies and was in continuous use until now. All of Ron's old tools, supplies, notes, and anything related to mould making were carefully cared for by Serge in his Brussels home and mountain studio. This latter studio was housed at his best friend Jean-François' family home, in the detached workshop of his friend's late grandfather, who was a woodworker. In the midst of old woodworking equipment, work benches, and a climbing wall (Serge had been an avid rock climber earlier in his life) was the loom, giant spools of wire, bags of tacks, wood pieces, and god knows what else.

Once Serge realized that mould making would become his passion, or, as Tim Moore said, his "second act," he went full force into learning everything he could from Ron, and then reaching out to the papermaking world. He donated his moulds to a Hand Papermaking auction, devotedly attended Dard (NAHP) meetings before and after pandemic, and connected with all of the people and places that would need or want top-notch tools across the European-style papermaking world. In my visits with him, it seemed like after his adventures climbing, learning didgeridoo in Australia, and sailing around the world (where he eventually in South America fell alarmingly ill and was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes)—after all that, he had finally found a community that loved and embraced him and his impeccable skills.

After working at Coke since the age of 19, he left his job on April 30, 2021 to make moulds full time and never looked back. He had previously made moulds on the weekends, and after negotiating a 4-day week with Coke, on the long weekends. But there was never enough time, always too many orders, and too many places and people to visit. He burned himself at all ends but somehow was full of energy all the time whenever it came to his work.

We talked a lot about how he wanted to start making su and bal, Japanese and Korean bamboo tools for papermaking, because he couldn't imagine it being that much harder than the moulds he made. He searched for European sources for adequate bamboo and traveled to London in the spring of 2023 to meet my Korean bamboo screen weaving teacher, the national treasure of that craft. He had planned for years to visit Japan to meet screen makers there but was stymied by pandemic until June 2024, when he was finally able to meet bamboo specialists despite health challenges.

I wrote to him in Sept 2022 to confess I had made very little headway on my book about toolmakers for hand papermaking, and noted I had to hurry before more people died (this was after Ron passed away). I had no idea that Serge would be next, and have been blindsided by grief. As I dig further into our correspondence, I see how we shared our own worries about not getting enough done, yet being too worn out to do everything we wanted: he had to recover from a shoulder injury and reminded me last year, "take your time and put priorities on things that matter most. I learned it the hard way."

I have not been able to upload all of my photos from my European research trip of 2019, for which he was my wonderful host. For now, you can learn a bit about him in old blog posts:

My first visit with Serge in NYC in 2017

The second part of this post is about Serge's work for Pascal Jeanjean (2019)

The first part of this post is about Serge (2019)

Scroll past my Netherlands visit to see Serge with his loom in 2019

He is survived by his parents, sister and brother-in-law and their children, brother and his children, his best friends and their children, and his aunt, uncle, and cousins. His ashes were interred on July 24 in La Hulpe. The French notice is here.

I had intended to write my chapter about Serge for over a month (as you can see from this to do list that is still sitting under my computer), and am aghast that he is not around anymore to edit my mistakes. I will still write it, so if you have anecdotes, stories, or photos to share about him, please let me know soon as my manuscript is due at the end of this year. This is a devastating loss, not only personally, but to the entire papermaking world and the wider world of those who are safeguarding intangible cultural heritage.

A final summer of hanji retreats

I made this one in July with 100% bark lace, a mini version of something I had wanted to do all along.

These came out of consignment and then I covered them in ink.

 

This photo is by Gus Chan, a great photojournalist I've been fortunate to work with before.

 

He came by during my first hanji retreat of the summer. It already feels like eons ago, but it was a wonderful group as always. Above is Delaney, and below is Lisa working and Justine assisting, another great shot by Gus.

Delaney cracked me up when she complained about the blue tape on my apron. It's intentional, to cover a hole. I've had that apron for at least 10 years if not more, and it's layers are peeling away. You can make a version of it yourself!

Both sections of class loved bark manipulation. Lace, grids, thread, casting.

Here, Myong is using a tool she made in one of Jeff's workshops and it was great to help lift the dry bark that had been hammered onto the wood board with a rock.

After a week off in between classes (while my students were heavily impacted by the CrowdStrike debacle), I had another group of students (not all pictured but all present) that took to the vat like a fish to water. Victoria was more Wonju style,

and Myong more Uiryeong style. We can't get into the epigenetics of it all, but from the first hanji retreat I offered, my students said they felt more Korean after working at the vat. It's a gift to meet people who take to the techniques so smoothly.

Parting and boarding! I will miss these walls.

Because the week after the final class ended, I moved out of the second hanji studio I built in this area.

Unfortunately, unlike the first, this one will no longer continue to exist as a hanji studio. The beater was the big beast for the move. You never know until the movers come if they can handle it, but I was impressed by their technique. That entire thing weighs over 1100 pounds.

I am grateful to have been able to build a space from scratch and host six sessions over three years of students who have become very dear. There's more to leaving than, "time to go!" but not something I want to disclose publicly. The incredible support I've gotten from friends, students, and family since has been heartening. There is even more good news that I have to keep under wraps for now. Suffice it to say, everything falls into place once you act on the big hard decisions.

Things start to flow again after being stuck for a long time. Priorities become extremely clear.

More often than not, many signs light up along the way as a reminder that you're on the right track.

What's coming up? I'll be in NYC for parts of the BOOKSMART fair at Art on Paper in Sept. In Oct, I'll be in Michigan and will teach a paper rope workshop in Kalamazoo, before my show that opens there in early Nov. I'm already taken aback that fall might be even more hairy than summer.

Summer blues

It was a very quick trip in June but I was so happy to be able to see my family and friends in NYC. This Toshiko Takaezu exhibit at the Noguchi Museum was fantastic, giving context to an artist I had not known but was right here all along. When I took a friend recently through the Cleveland Museum of Art, I saw the three Takaezu pieces in the corner and suddenly all the pieces came together! What was even better was the company, being able to catch up with Nancy and swap wild exhibition stories. I've always been so impressed by her work and this video does a good job showing bits of her process. Hands down, she is the best artist working in handmade paper who doesn't have her own mill or use traditional techniques.

I rushed back home after NY to take a fantastic Yoruba indigo class with Gasali Adeyemo. He is a star but so humble and generous. He did a ton of prep so that in a brief workshop (1 day + 2 hours the next day) we could experience his Nigerian tradition of indigo dyeing, which is SO different from the Japanese (which is what predominates most of what people know about indigo). The seeds, plants, process, and feel are related but different.

Of course I went in with batches of paper and bark. I did dye two little cotton pieces but that was halfhearted in comparison. The big goal was to see what I could do with my usual materials.

Tie dye has fun results but brutalized my hands. I tried going to a hand specialist afterwards but that was also too expensive (she doesn't take insurance). Velma was right that the more practical option is stretching before and after and being more mindful of what happens when you don't do something with your body and then suddenly do a ton of it really hard.

Here I am taking over half the drying rack for a completely full class. I spread out all over the place and became that lady in a workshop. I was afraid there would be a lot of people like that in the class because that is the nature of indigo, you simply want to dive into the vat, but it was actually a very healthy and sharing vibe with a whole mix of people I was happy to meet.

I also bundled a bunch of bark lace to throw into the vat and had a whole array of tones. The first day the vat that we started needed more time, so halfway through we switched to another vat that Gasali had prepared the day prior. I was so relieved to be the student and not have to figure out how to prep a class for a process that usually takes at least a week but is compressed. Once we went into that vat, WOW. It was rich and deep and immediate.

Here is a net I made from abaca fiber (banana leaf) that Velma had given to me a while ago.

Here it is drying after I put it in a vinegar soak. The cocoa ash used for the Yoruba indigo is SO strong, I was amazed by its alkalinity. I also used a lot of the abaca string to tie dye; afterwards I tried to net it and almost every strand in the ply failed. That's when I knew I HAD to do the vinegar baths because the caustic would eat all of my precious cellulose. My gampi hanji held up the best, true to its nature of having incredible wet strength.

These are bark grids that I was too scared to dye the first day but threw into the vat the second morning. There was definitely some disintegration but it managed to hold together.

After class ended, I didn't want to get off the indigo train so I went back to old cords that I had dyed in indigo years ago and practiced making a square dish, which I also had wanted to figure out how to make years ago. Turns out the technique it is exactly as I imagined.

One side

the edge

the other side, onion skin dye.

And now I have to figure out what to do with all of these.

These are even worse, because all I want to do is hold them and stare at them, not actually figure out what the next step is. That's the challenge with both bark lace and indigo, so the combo is particularly hard.

Of course I got one of Gasali's shirts, he dyes onto the most beautiful brocade. I had a major application due and went into a panic, so I tried to rework an installation I had started (years?) ago and abandoned because there were too many other things tugging at me.

But now that I have bark thread dyed with indigo, I can start drawing. This is the most drawing-like feeling ever, even more so than when I draw traditionally.

But guess who draws even better? Nature, chance, fiber, when left to do its own thing. Wish I could keep drawing but need to skedaddle and prep for two hanji retreats.

Oberlin Reunion papermaking open house

This has been in the works for over a year (and in my general papermaking life, many years): a Reina beater! I had gotten affirmation in 2023 that if the right beater for the right price came up, Oberlin would get it. The library always comes through on these kinds of things, so when I heard about a beater that was exactly right, all the gears went into motion and now it's home! Gena, Ed, and Taylor came for its inaugural run. Gena takes care of all of my logistics for the January class without complaint, Ed is the mastermind behind the entire studio/class/me doing anything at Oberlin + being a huge part of the Book Studies Program, and founding the letterpress studio, and Taylor has taken care of all of my last-minute, "Oh no, I forgot xyz chemical/fiber, can we raid your lab for more?" needs. He had taken one of my classes years ago and then set up a sweet little paper studio that he generously allows students to access.

After they helped me load the beater with BFK scraps and cotton linter that Taylor kindly soaked and donated, we did some quick bark lace making while the beater ran. All of the timing worked out perfectly for Ed to pick up the beater out of state, and deliver it down a half flight of stairs, so that we could test it to confirm all is well and then use the pulp for a papermaking open house I offered during Oberlin's reunion weekend. I was already going to be in town to speak on a panel, as it was my 25th reunion and the other panelists' 50th.

The beater worked great, which was such a relief after all of my previous beater drama. I went several days ahead of time to make sure we'd have pulp for European sheets and left the fiber for Asian sheets in the fridge.

Sunday morning, I had to drive to the panel site to set up my artwork display, then to the studio to start setting up and to get Michelle started with beating fiber, and then back to the panel auditorium to set up my AV. After we finished, I had to pack up my art display, get back to the paper studio, and make sure we were ready for the open house. Thank goodness I had pigmented the fibers before the scheduled time, because after one young person came for a quiet tutorial, we were mobbed.

We had two vats set up for European-style sheets in two different colors and dimensions.

Michelle is SO GOOD with kids and in general with all of this public interfacing. All of these studio shots are by Haoyuan, who thankfully showed up to say hi but had a camera to document. Once we opened the vats, I told him that he also had to help with papermaking because we had so many people inside at once.

I was so glad that the kids wanted to do both types of papermaking, but was not prepared to have shorter students!

I love this family shot!

James also visited and even brought me a paper cicada—he's an expert folder and Oberlin alum, and teaches all kinds of origami inspired work. It has been fun to see him through the years since he is local and also teaches in the winters when I'm on campus.

I was worried about being able to accommodate so many people but fortunately given the schedule, we only had to run for an hour. Michelle and Haoyuan stayed to finish up fiber and clean; I am so grateful to have dream students who make these kinds of events possible. He recently received a giant prize that goes annually to a graduating STEM major senior who works across disciplines. When we met in early 2022, I had encouraged him to declare a Book Studies minor. Along with taking my class, he taught calligraphy classes and helped research Chinese books for the library. Now he's off to be a lab tech in Boston and I know he will continue his creative work because it's integrated into his life. I met Michelle in 2020 in my Jan class and she has been dedicated to making paper ever since, incorporating it into many projects as a double-degree student in studio art and music composition, and has been the best assistant I could ask for. Thank goodness she is staying another year; I don't look forward to life after she graduates!

This is also the last time I run back-to-back weekend studio gigs. Still recovering but glad they all went well.