What is it about books that makes us hold on to them? In this article, meet Aslak Gurholt --- founder of Conch Books and former COO of Copenhagen Fashion Week. Her relationship with books is intimate and social in equal measure: a paper trail of a life, a way into conversations she wouldn’t otherwise have, and a reason to bring strangers together in a room.
Aslak Gurholt at "SPINORAMA – An exhibition of interesting spines” at Grafill in Oslo. Curated by Aslak Gurholt and Fraser Muggeridge
The thing about creating, collecting and sharing books is…?
I guess I’m interested in all these aspects. I make lots of books – often very different types of books – and my role varies a lot from one project to another. Sometimes I’m the designer, editor or publisher – other times I’m the artist or author. But I also collect books, for different reasons. Some I collect for their content, because I’m interested in the text or images, or in the author or artist. Since I work as a graphic designer, mainly designing books, I also often collect them for the objects themselves. They work as a kind of reference or footnote to my own work. My obsession with collecting books has also evolved into a sort of research. I collect books for specific details that might sound absurd to other people. For instance, I collect books with identical front and back covers, mirrored front and back covers, books that imitate objects, and objects that imitate books. I also collect interesting book spines, flat books that imitate three-dimensional books, books with holes, book covers that look like doors, and books that look like buildings. There probably aren’t many people collecting books according to these categories. These collections, in turn, often feed back into my own work.
When did you first see the book as a medium in its own right, rather than just a container for content?
When I worked on my first book, I was both the author, artist and designer of the book. So I guess I understood it as a medium in its own right from the very beginning, although perhaps without being fully aware of the history of artists’ books. But I’m not only interested in artists’ books, I’m just as interested in the book as a container for content, and in printed matter as a means of reproducing and distributing ideas. So I don’t necessarily think of artists’ books as superior to, for instance, exhibition catalogues. Just think of how many artworks and exhibitions you’ve never seen in person, but know only through images in books. The book is a great way to distribute ideas and art, making them available to more people.
SPINORAMA, Grafill, 2025. Curated by Aslak Gurholt and Fraser Muggeridge
SPINORAMA catalogue, Print Room Rotterdam, 2025
What role does the physical making (paper, binding, print) of a book play and how is it creatively different from a painting, a sculpture or a film?
The book is cheaper and easier to reproduce and distribute. It can make art more democratic by making it available to more people. The book is also a space for deeper reading, focus, reflection and critical thinking. The physical aspect of the book is of course important. The size of the book, paper or binding, is the basics of the book – like the painting for an artist – and the choices that are made crucial to the end result. It is also a process that most often involves some kind of mass production.
Where does the artist’s book sit among collectibles, next to prints and artworks? Does the line between a book, a publication and an artwork still matter?
I’m not sure, actually. Personally I collect artists’ books myself, as well as other types of books. But then I also collect anything from editions and artworks in my price range to “Objets trouvés” and trash found on the street. What interests me is the ideas or the object itself, not so much the value of it, which is often connected to the collection of art. In this context I believe books are not looked at in the same way. Also I’m not interested in every kind of artist’s book. I’m mostly interested in the ideas behind the work, rather than its exclusivity. So exclusive, handmade artists’ books produced in very small editions don’t really interest me. If a book becomes too exclusive or overpriced, I feel it’s kind of working against the medium itself. To me, these books become more like art objects than books.
How do you use the book as a curatorial tool, and what happens to it once it’s in an exhibition?
SPINORAMA, a project I run with Fraser Muggeridge, is not only an exhibition but also a kind of research project about interesting book spines — or, more broadly, the physical aspects of books. The first exhibition was held at London Centre for Book Arts in 2024, and it has since been shown at different locations across Europe. Some years ago, we also put on an exhibition about books with holes. We focus on what might sound like a very narrow subject, but use it as a prism through which to explore different aspects of the book as an object. SPINORAMA is not a fixed exhibition, but a project in flux. Through conversations and guided tours at each new location, both the exhibition and our archive of spines have grown. In your first question, you asked about “sharing”, which I initially felt wasn’t the most important aspect for me. But when I think about the exhibitions, sharing is really what interests me. They offer a space for an informal presentation or conversation about the displayed work, which I really enjoy.
How would you advise someone who wants to start collecting artists’ books but doesn’t know where to begin?
Everyone should collect books and artists’ books. It can make your life richer without necessarily costing a fortune.
Why do books still matter in an age of screens?
Because they allow for a different kind of reading. The internet and screens have many weaknesses that books don’t have. I think one of the clearest examples is the difficulty we face in teaching children today, and the fragmentation of education as schoolbooks have been replaced by iPads.
Jacob Holdt, Amerikanske billeder, 1977
Which book would you hand to a stranger, and why?
There are certain books I pick up whenever I find them at a flea market or a second-hand bookshop, even though I already own them. I’d rather buy extra copies to give to friends than see them end up in the bin. One of them is actually a Danish book, “American Pictures” (1977) by the Danish photographer Jacob Holdt. I’ve probably given away 10–15 copies of it. I first came across it at my family’s cabin in the mountains. It was my father’s copy, which he’d probably left there ten years earlier. Since I had nothing else to read, I started reading it and was completely fascinated by the story and the photographs. Whenever I give the book away, I hope the person receiving it will have an experience similar to mine. These kinds of surprises are what make life worth living.
SPINORAMA, PrintRoom, Rotterdam, 2025. Curated by Aslak Gurholt and Fraser Muggeridge
Aslak Gurholt is graphic designer, artist, writer and curator based in Oslo, Norway. His design practice is mainly focused on books, printed matter, collaborations with other artists and cultural institutions. Gurholt has written several illustrated children's books, a book on Corona (or the shape of the circle), texts on themes such as J.D. Salinger, hyphens and dashes, holes and copies, as well as books on other artists such as Paul Brand and Leif F. Anisdahl.
