A Talk that Sounds Like a Book: Mihai Popescu and the Art of Making Books with Sound

by Dan Stanescu

Mihai Popescu sits at a round table. A nondescript cardboard box lays open in front of him. He starts pulling packs of books covered in bubble wrap. Not just any books, but a strange and wonderful collection of self-published creations, each a testament to the unique intersection of sound art and bookmaking explored in the Sounds Like a Book residency, a program hosted in Șona, Romania.

“There’s something about being in Șona, in that compound with the old house and barn, that makes the whole experience different. You’re connected to the place, to the people, and that comes through in the books.” These books, born from experimentation and resourcefulness, embody the program’s ethos – a celebration of process, a spirit of collaboration, and a deep engagement with the sonic landscape.

It’s mid-October and Glitch Library hosted Mihai Popescu from Graphomat for a deep dive into the strangely diverse publishing project, Sounds Like a Book. The conversation was an all-over-the-place exploration, with books being handed from one to another, full of sidetracks, laughter, and wows and pfuai, I wish I had done that.

It was a super-hands on, touchy-feely affair, so writing about it makes almost no sense, yet we loved it so much that here’s to trying.

Mihai’s presence was magnetic, and not because of any dramatic performance. Rather, it was his authenticity—an easy, meandering openness that allowed us to witness the messiness of creation, complete with quirks and contradictions. The studio Graphomat, as Mihai laid it out, is much more than a design studio. It’s a collective, a convergence of skills and passions, where bookbinding, serigraphy, sound art, and exhibition design collide into something that feels rare and oddly wholesome.

A Declic in the Șură: What Sounds Like a Book Sounds Like

Sounds Like a Book, a project initiated with Andreea Vlăduț and Mihai Șovăială, started as an experimental university project and has since grown into a niche—a niche of a niche, as Mihai likes to say, half-jokingly. The residency invites artists to stay for a few weeks, immerse themselves in sound, and translate these experiences into books. The books, as Mihai explained with a grin, are unlike anything you’ve seen—sometimes fragile, like a block note held together by glue that disintegrates as you read, other times as weighty as the themes they tackle, like an alphabet created by and for children with disabilities.

“We wanted to create a space where artists could just experiment,” Mihai said. “Sometimes you need to forget about the commercial side of things and just play. Like the book we made with baking paper—it wasn’t meant to last, but it was about the experience of making it, the texture, the sound it made when you turned the pages.” He smiled, adding, “Failure is always an option here, and that’s what makes it fun.”

Mihai, with his moderate enthusiasm and down-to-earth demeanor, emphasizes the importance of making bookmaking accessible to artists from all backgrounds. He recalls an anecdote from the residency that sparked a shift in his approach: “In one of the editions, 8 out of 10 people who came had the same book in hand from the table with cool books, it was Anne Geene & Arjan De Nooy – Ornithology (find it in the glitch library), a book that had won the best book design from all over the world. Of course they love it, but it sure didn’t take a week to make”.

^{Photos from the Sounds Like a Book archive}

This realization led to a conscious decision to steer away from showcasing only high-end productions. “Since then, we’ve kind of had a funny click where we said, ‘No more finest production’ because it doesn’t make sense. Maybe just a few examples of how you can make gold out of shit.” Mihai’s intention is clear: to empower artists to explore the potential of even the most humble materials and methods, breaking free from the constraints of expensive production techniques.

From Sound to Sight: The Alchemy of Transformation

The process of transforming sound into a physical book is a delicate alchemy, one that requires careful consideration of form, material, and concept. Mihai describes the various approaches taken by participants in the residency: “You see very, very different things from very, very different people, and this idea that it’s self-publishing, that you do it yourself in a way, cuts out all the standard constraints.” This freedom allows artists to push the boundaries of bookmaking, resulting in a diverse array of creations that range from “ultra-soft, light, mini illustration books” to those tackling “heavy” subjects.

“We work with Lucas Jacob Locker on sound first,” Mihai explained. “It’s about understanding sound, recording it, editing it, and then thinking—how does this sound translate into a book? It’s a strange question, but that’s where the magic happens.” He continued, “And then we move to making the books. It’s hands-on—everything from choosing paper to binding. We even had someone print their book on baking paper once, just to see how it would look.”

Beautiful outcomes abound: books that are vessels of sound, story, and personal experience. Like a book about a greenhouse, for example, uses semi-transparent calc paper as a material to evoke the look and feel of its subject.

Or Dragoș Hanciu’s book, having John’s Cage performance 4’33” as a starting point. His A-B book is trying to visualize the relative silence of the long and solitary trips made by the photographer.

Simona Constantin’s book, a poignant exploration of communication and connection, features an alphabet interpreted by children with various disabilities. Or Aliona Ciobanu’s book, Stork Song, a punch-hole tapestry of songs to be played on childhood music boxes, recorded and deconstructed in Șona, invites readers to experience the village through sound and images.

These books, born from the unique charm & magic of the residency, demonstrate the power of self-publishing to transform ephemeral sounds into tangible and lasting artifacts.

Body, Space and Books at Their Own Pace

The 2024 edition of Sounds Like a Book focused on exploring the interplay between body, space, and sound through various corporeal angles and rhythms. By sliding through different types of spaces, textures, and bodily postures, participants uncovered how material conditions and the ways we inhabit a space shape our sonic perception and experience. What kind of data flows through the spaces of Șona, and what do we find out about the village when we explore it through sound? What information do the locals’ stories contain about the spaces of Șona, and what images do they build about the present and the near future of the village? This year’s theme encouraged participants to use sound walks and deep listening to explore space at a slowed-down rhythm, widening their sensory fields and pushing perceptive boundaries.

On the other side of space, going back in time: “We had another book that was made with conductive thread and Arduino,” Mihai mentioned. “It was more of an installation than a book, really. You touched the pages, and it made sounds. It was fragile—it’s falling apart now—but that was part of the point. It was about the temporary nature of things.” He went on to describe other works: a book with a spine made of wood, another with a complex fold structure riso printed in Bucharest and hand-bound in northern Romania. “We even had someone make a large-format book on a plotter. It wasn’t practical, but it was beautiful.”

And that, perhaps, is the charm of Sounds Like a Book. It’s a space where traditional constraints of publishing get thrown out the window, where the cost of Pantone gold becomes less of a barrier and more of a playful ‘what if.’ Where, as Mihai put it, ‘you can do more with less.’ It’s a space where artists from different disciplines come together, not to create perfect objects, but to experiment, to let the process itself be visible and vulnerable—whether it’s printing on baking paper or stitching pages together by hand.

“We always tell the participants,” Mihai said, “you can make something perfect if you want to, but that’s not what we’re here for. We’re here to see what happens when you try something new, something messy. Sometimes the most beautiful books are the ones that might fall apart in your hands.”

In a world saturated with digital information, Sounds Like a Book offers a sanctuary for artists seeking a slower, more deliberate form of creative expression. It’s a space where the sounds of a Transylvanian village are woven into the fabric of books, where experimentation thrives, and where the act of making becomes a shared journey of discovery and transformation. And as Mihai would say, “Anything goes, and everything is OK”.

The talk ended, as all good talks do, with an invitation—to take part, to stay curious, to create even if it’s messy, even if it’s ephemeral. Because sometimes the most beautiful books are the ones that might fall apart in your hands, leaving nothing but an idea behind. And isn’t that the point?

The Sounds Like a Book artist talk with Mihai Popescu is part of Glitch Library’s knowledge-sharing program, designed to bring together artists, designers, and the general public. Past talks have included designer Ovidiu Hrin, designer and artist Gelu Florea or a very special feature with Maria Birsan, Radu Lesevschi and Vlad Mihai.

Unless otherwise stated, all photos are shot on 35mm film from Thursday by Dragoș Hanciu.

The Glitch Library offers the perfect setting to engage with talks, exhibitions, and the growing collection of art and design materials that continue to fuel creative practice. Visit us to explore more, reflect on the intersections between art and knowledge, and participate in our ongoing dialogue about culture and creativity.

Check Mihai Popescu’s book recommendations for Glitch Library here.

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