lewis chong

JULIE VERHOEVEN

“I never even attempt to start a new project without a library visit. It’s essential,” confesses Julie Verhoeven. “I am also pretty reliant and emotionally attached to the photocopiers.” As familiar with the facilities as she may be, Verhoeven isn’t supportive of her local library because of a longing for the past. “I like to remain loyal and show support but I am not a fan of nostalgia, if I can help it.” 

As an illustrator, artist and teacher, Verhoeven has collaborated with the likes of Louis Vuitton, Mulberry and Peter Jensen, presented solo exhibitions, designed products and is in all senses an all-round creative. “I would be in dire straits if I lost my local library and would have to do something melodramatic, like move country or give up. Not only are they a mecca of information but they function on a social level too.” 

First joining Camberwell College of Arts library on Peckham Road about 20 years ago when moving into the area, Verhoeven has used it at least once a month ever since. “It is carpeted and has a powwow of comfy chairs and a little display cabinet of art exhibits. It has an amazing rolling stock of old periodicals and endless treasures. It just feels comfortable and easy to lose yourself in,” she shares. “I am especially attached to my library because in the 50s, my mum was a student there and used to work for Camberwell public libraries. Both my parents were avid library visitors and the usage of this research facility was instilled in me from a young age.”

“I did have my bag pinched at Westminster reference library once but it was my own fault for being too engrossed in a picture book to notice. I would never hold a grudge against a library. They are a wonderful place of secrets and surprises.” 


KEVIN FRANCIS GRAY

“I mean the library is not personal to me as such, mainly because it’s a very egalitarian thing, but I had a really conscious moment where I thought I must start using it more, in case it goes away,” ponders Kevin Francis Gray. “I started to really think about why I would even care if it disappeared. Why do I care that they’re there at all?”

“As an artist, everything has an impact. In the same way as public transport has an impact on my artistic practice, the library has that similar sort of effect and it helps my practice by proxy. Not directly,” he reasons. “I don’t go into the library and think ‘I’m inspired by this book, I’m going to make a piece.’ But it gives me that weird sense of comfort and confidence knowing that it’s there if I need it.”

Traditionally a sculptor, the Goldsmiths’ graduate is somewhat of an irregular member of Homerton library. “It’s a sort of 60s municipal building,” he tells. “Upstairs there is a room for events and gatherings. The library itself has a really interesting smell. It’s a bit manky, and small. And grungy. Exactly what you want from a library. Not too slick. Not very many art books either, but just enough to whet the appetite. And some really, really good trashy literature,” he laughs. “Lots of the good stuff.”

Gray is celebrated for his momentous sculptures that subvert classic ideals of beauty and form. The sitters for which Gray discovers on the street. “There was someone I met outside the library once and I asked her if she’d model for me, to which she replied, ‘Fuck off!’ I went back again, and kept seeing her, and kept asking her. She eventually sat for a piece of mine. After a chance meeting outside the library she’s become quite a big part of my work.”


MICHAEL HARRISON

“It’s this classic 1960s post-modernist building. Big glass and concrete with really beautiful murals outside. Quite brutalist. It sits right next to a really beautiful 1930s modernist building that is about to be renovated,” pours the art director Michael Harrison. “I guess the building is from that time when you’d say there were good ideals for public self-improvement. I don’t think we live in those times anymore.” 

Reflecting upon Hornsey library, it’s obvious this place means more to him than just research and public access to books. “I’ve been thinking about it. I like order and structure and the whole system is catalogued. You have to have that OCD obsessiveness with what I do and libraries have that built in”, he explains. “There is silence, order, and people behave, but do it naturally. It’s accepted by everyone who uses it. We conform to say: ‘We accept this space and the rules that go along with it.’ Where else does that happen in society?” 

It was working at The Face, 20 years ago, when Harrison began his lifelong career in magazines. He is now an art director for Condé Nast and publishes his own title, Archivist, twice a year. “That’s where the research comes in. It’s not simply being a designer. In fact, designing is quite a small part at times. I have to be aware of trends, not only fashion but all design.” 

“One of the best bits of advice I have been given is that you are never stumped for an idea, you just have to go into a library, or a second-hand bookshop, and it immediately opens up your mind. You might see a bit of a colour, some sort of typography, how the book is packaged, and they just suddenly spin off ideas. Libraries are very tactile places” offers Harrison. “I don’t necessarily sit here looking up art books. It’s what I’ll stumble across. On the internet, you have to start looking for something, and it’s usually the re-circulation of somebody else’s idea but in a library, you can discover things for yourself.”


ROMILLY MASON

“I’m way too nostalgic for old school libraries that used to have those great big wooden tables, a really stern librarian, and musty, musty, books.” sighs Romilly Mason, stylist and acting editor-in-chief at Avenue 32. “Libraries are essential to our learning, to creativity. Just to have a place to go more than anything, to sit and focus. I don’t think you get that even in your own home.”

Since the age of 10, Mason has been a library member but it is her local Fulham branch that she calls her regular. “It gives me a feeling of safety. I go to calm myself down because everything is so frantic and I don’t really stop. That’s why I made it part of my routine, because I knew on a Saturday morning I could go to the library and just take a deep breath. You become so isolated and I like that. You feel kind of connected to the people there, even though you don’t want to talk to them.” 

“I borrow a lot of murder mystery novels. I’m obsessed by Agatha Christie... obsessed,” she says with uncontained delight. “They are very much about the finer detail. When mentioning the murderer or the victim, and they’re describing a lace collar or lost button, maybe a cuff link with an engraving, that’s the part I really love. Those little intricacies. When I’m writing about fashion, I want to incorporate that. It’s all too readily glossed over.”

At home, Mason is surrounded by antique linens, vintage French workwear and 1920s flapper dresses that would have made even Brassaï a little emotional. “I have a romantic notion of the past. Maybe that’s why I am so devoted to my library. I love the feeling you get from holding a book that has been there for however many years. It has a suppleness. It’s a silly idea, but you can almost feel the thoughts from previous readers, sharing their experiences in a way.”



[This article was published inside B Magazine, a bi-annual design publication created by London’s cult fashion destination bSTORE - both sadly closed in 2012]