Musings from the Roost: Book Report: The Principles of Uncertainty

41. Maira Kalman, The Principles of Uncertainty (2007) (1/10/19)

This book, an illustrated journal, started out as a monthly blog in the New York Times. It covers the year from May 2006 to April 2007, with such titles as "Sorry, the Rest Unknown," "Heaven on Earth," "Ich Habe Genug," and "The Impossibility of February."

The book is replete with Kalman's distinctive faux-naive gouache paintings, as well as embroidery and photography, all accompanied by seemingly stream-of-consciousness thoughts and wonderings about "what it all means." As she puts it on the cover fly leaf, "What is this book? What is anything? Who am I? Who are you? stop it forget it This is a year in my life profusely illustrated. Abounding with anguish, confusion, bits of wisdom, musings, meanderings, buckets of joie de vivre, and restful sojourns."

The book covers everything from (starting on page 1) the extinction of the dodo—followed immediately by the extinction of Spinoza and of Pavlov's dog—to elegant hats, people who have difficulty walking, sumptuous fruit platters, sinks, and obituaries. She describes heaven on earth as her aunt's kitchen in Tel Aviv, where they eat honey cake and talk about dead Russian writers. In August,

My sister and I go to Israel during the short, furious, the-world-is-doomed war [with Lebanon].
For a wedding.
Because you CANNOT postpone weddings in DARK Times—Especially in dark times.
Who knows when the light will come on again?
Are things Normal? I don't know.
Does life go on?
YES.

She shares with us some of her collections: of empty boxes, of sponges from around the world, of postcards from the Hotel Celeste in Tunisia, of whistles, candies, and suitcases. Her November entry begins,

We could speak about the meaning of life vis-à-vis non-consequential/deontological theories, apodictic transformation schemata, the incoherence of exemplification, metaphysical realism, Cartesian interactive dualism, revised non reductive dualism, postmodernist grammatology and dicey dichotomies. But we would still be left with Nietzsche's preposterous mustache which instills great anguish and skepticism in the brain, which leads (as it did in his case) to utter madness. I suggest we go to Paris instead.

And we do! Delightfully! There are superlative tassels, desserts, and pink beds, as well as a bit of malaise prompted by a nightmare. But it is soon overcome by a visit to the Luxembourg Gardens and some pinky pink paté.

January, "Completely," consists largely of photographs of individuals walking on streets, all taken from behind. I found this chapter especially beguiling, in part because I identify with the subject matter (I don't like taking photos of people—but from behind? sure!), but also because it made me think about her process, how much of her painting must rely on photos either that she takes or that she collects. It gives a clue to her roving, all-noticing eye.

Here is an interview with Kalman, "What's in Your Toolbox," that gives insight into her process—or her mind—or both.
Here's a blog post on how she combines gouache with ink lettering.
Here's an interview discussing how she stays creative.
Here is her daily routine (she starts by reading the obituaries).
And here's an interview about her writing.

Here are a few more examples of her eye, wit, and whimsy: