Essay: A Network of Connections

Mail is a potent source of potential. A single stamp can take a letter to any one of an uncountable number of destinations, at fantastic speed, for just a tiny price. A postal worker’s bag might contain almost anything, from anywhere. The very concept of mail suggests a worldwide network of connections, invisible paths just waiting to guide parcels and messages.

But let’s not be swept away by the grandeur of it all—mail is also grounded in everyday life and all of the messy unpredictability that comes with it. Mail gets lost, delayed, creased, crumpled, jostled, smudged, and rained on. A misspelling or a bit of sloppy handwriting can lead an envelope far from its intended destination. Thanks to marketers and billing departments, one of the words most frequently associated with mail is “junk.”

This contradictory combination of smooth and dreamy possibilities with irregular and haphazard realities has long animated an area of creativity called “mail art.” Its early roots extend back into the European modern art movements of Surrealism and Dada in the 1920s, but its full blossoming is usually traced to the 1960s with Ray Johnson and his New York Correspondence School. From Johnson’s example, mail art became adventurously inventive, openly shared, and international in scope. The objects involved are often humorous and humble, and a commonly observed rule declares that they are works of art only after they have actually been sent through the mail.

I was aware of this history before the Akron Art Museum started its own mail art project, but I suppose the knowledge hadn’t really taken hold. Somehow I failed to anticipate just how much variety there would be in the submissions that we received from our community—drawings and written messages, of course, but also collages, photographs, pastels, stickers, inky prints, and tiny paintings, each bearing scuffs and scratches as evidence of its particular journey. These marks made the potential and the liveliness of mail art unmistakably apparent.

The collages that arrived clarify this approach, with their exuberant energy and wide range of source material. Norman Mallard’s repurposing of a vintage photograph playfully turns its portrait subject into a photographer, while in Beth Prindle’s 1950s-inspired image the last collage layer is actually the unexpected postal barcode, which creates an amusingly ambiguous phrase: “I Wish I Led A… Life!” Other submissions are meticulously composed, showing that postcards need not always be casual. Maria Uhase’s chipmunk bristles with fine detail, and an abstraction by Robert and Marilyn Merchant features delicately balanced shapes, edges, and textures. We even received cards from an artist represented in the Museum’s collection, photographer Daniel Mainzer. Eager young artists also sent many pictures—one named Finn was especially prolific and enthusiastic.

Perhaps the biggest surprise was that, amid all of 2020’s bad news and heated debates, the mood of the submitted postcards was almost entirely upbeat. Politics were represented only in subtle ways, like one photo’s tiny marquee spelling out “Defund the Police.” Evidence of COVID cropped up here and there, but mostly in positive messages regarding masks, social distancing, and mutual respect. If this is any indication, I hope that Akron Art Mail provided a happy opportunity to be connected and creative during an undeniably difficult time.

Jeff Katzin
Assistant Curator
Akron Art Museum