On
Exhibit-
Being Taped for the Martha Stewart Show
by
Ellen G.K. Rubin
(January, 2001)
I wanted
to shout, “It’s Ellen-from-the-Bronx!!”
as I stood in the cavernous lobby of the Brooklyn
Public Library’s Central Branch in Grand
Army Plaza. A production guy from the Martha
Stewart Show was patting cornsilk on my shiny
nose and cheeks. The Library boasts that about
one million visitors pass through this hall
every year and it seemed
that at least half of them were present now
and staring at ME! Who did they think I was?
How did I get here?
I started collecting pop-up and movable books
about 14 years ago after my finding these unique
books to read to my young sons. In 1993, I joined
the newly formed Movable Book Society [MBS],
which offered me the chance to write for its
quarterly newsletter, Movable Stationery.
The writer I had always fantasized being now
had a subject and a platform. The books themselves
continued to dazzle me. Childhood classics,
like Little Red Riding Hood, Alice in Wonderland,
and the impenetrable Hobbit, were brought
to life by paper engineers, those genius artists
who make illustrations move or jump off the
page. Collecting took me to dusty bookshops
in London, Paris, Prague, and Vienna. My collection
burgeoned to over 4000 books. My nieces and
nephews loved family gatherings where they begged
to be shown my latest additions. Friends knew
my collection had no boundaries and often inquired
about the possibility of new erotic titles.
One thing was very clear. Pop-up books made
everyone smile. Myself included.
 |
Robert
Sabuda, Maurice Sendak, Ann Montanaro,
Ellen G. K. Rubin at the Broooklyn Library
Gala |
In
1998, I had the occasion to meet the Executive
Director the Brooklyn Public Library, Martìn
Gòmez, and suggested what a fine exhibition
my collection would make. He agreed. Along with
my dear friends, Ann Montanaro, founder of MBS,
and Robert Sabuda, the celebrated paper engineer,
we put ourselves forward as curators of the
exhibition,
Brooklyn Pops Up!
The History and Art of the Movable Book.
It was our hope to use the exhibition to show
the World the wonder of these special books.
We knew from collective experience that most
people considered movable books a 20th century
phenomenon targeted only at children. Few knew
that movable books had a 700 year history, were
produced for adults as well as children, and,
amazingly, were all hand-made!
We mounted an exhibition with over 100 titles
and produced a catalog with 8 spreads of pop-ups,
each spread representing a landmark of Brooklyn.
The piece de resistance for me was
being invited by Cargraphics, the producer of
the pop-up catalog, Brooklyn Pops
Up, to come to Ibarra, Ecuador to watch
it being hand assembled. I wrote of the experience
for Movable Stationery, calling it,
My Trip to Mecca. There was no question
this was a pilgrimage few collectors have ever
taken.
The public and the press enthusiastically received
the exhibition. The New
York Times did a feature piece in their
Arts section about the exhibition and the publishing
of pop-up books (above the fold and in color!).
I was quoted often. Friends and colleagues teased
me about my newfound fame.
Here would be a good spot to tell you my take
on fame. Emily Dickinson said it best. “How
dreary to be somebody, how public like a frog.”
I was once part of a motorcade of limousines
in Boston on a Saturday night. We were dressed
in tuxedos and ball-gowns. People lined the
streets, craning their necks trying to guess
what august group warranted such attention.
I leaned out the window, blew kisses, and shouted,
“It’s Ellen-from-the-Bronx!”
into the crowds. Surely, they were all making
fools of themselves taking time out to hail
the likes of me.
We considered the Times article to
be the cherry on the cake. How could anything
else top the attention? I was, therefore, totally
unprepared for the call I received from the
Library the last week of the exhibition. Did
I want to appear on the Martha Stewart Show?
Martha Stewart wanted to do a segment on pop-up
and movable books. Could someone talk about
their history? My response? After talking about
my children, nothing could please me more. The
producer, Laurie Hepburn, called me on the Friday
before the Wednesday taping. It was Christmas
weekend, a long one. We chatted about pop-up
books and my interest in them. Laurie often
cried, “I never knew that!” After
almost an hour, she was convinced that what
she was eager to learn about movable books,
Martha’s viewers would too. Laurie asked
me to bring several changes of clothing (“…to
coordinate with the set”) and promised
I would be shot only from the waist up. (TV’s
ability to add pounds to one’s frame is
legendary. Vanity was starting to enter the
picture.) I offered to bring boxes of books
to illustrate my responses and to fill-in the
background. This was the equivalent of bringing
photo albums when someone asks for a picture
of a grandchild.
I spent the long weekend preparing, culling
my collection for books that would demonstrate
the historical arc of the genre and, at the
same time, show the artistry of paper engineers.
I prepared lists of books, websites, including
mine, should viewers wish to learn more. Being
prepared would be my shield against being nervous.
I was counseled by a media-savvy friend to smile
often. I didn’t think that would be a
problem since pop-up books always make me smile.
To keep calm, I kept reminding myself that the
segment (all of 4 minutes after editing) was
being taped; there would be room for error and
correction. Martha Stewart, I had been told,
would not be at the shoot but would be a voice-over
for the segment. One less thing to make me anxious.
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