Words
T o L iv e B y
L etterp ress p r in te r A m o s P a u l K en n ed y J r .
brings phrases, proverbs, adages, a n d id eas to life
in sim ple, strik in g books a n d posters.
s t o r y b y
M o n iq u e F ield s
P H O T O G R A P H Y B Y
C a leb СІЖІПСЄу
A M O S PA U L K E N N E D Y J R . T U R N S
the handle on the Vandercook
SP-15 and one of the first post-
ers rolls off the letterpress.
“ Oh, that’s bad,” he says,
noticing a piece of type that
isn’t playing well with the oth-
ers. “It’s four and a half picas
down. It’s that one. I’ll pick
you up, put you down, and go.”
He loosens the type, moves
the offending piece, and locks
the type into place. He turns
the handle again.
“That’s beautiful,” he says.
Dressed in denim overalls
and one of his trademark pink
shirts, Kennedy is as unpreten-
tious as his art. He lives and
works in Gordo, Alabama,
a rural enclave about 20 miles
from Tuscaloosa and some
60 miles from Birmingham.
The art he creates harkens
back to a time gone by. It’s made
from handset wood and metal
type, oil-based inks, and eco-
friendly chipboard. Posters
fetch $25 from admirers, $10
apiece for those who buy more
than one. The posters urge
women to be civil in the ladies’
room, scream that coffee will
make you black, and celebrate
civil rights, past and present.
A bestseller: “I was born
so poor if I had not been a boy,
I would have had nothing to
play with.”
“He pushes the boundaries,”
says Christopher Battaglia, inter-
im curator for Community Folk
Art Center, a program of the Afri-
can American Studies Depart-
ment at Syracuse University. “He
likes to startle people into look-
ing at the world around them.”
In early 2011, the center was
host to “Amos Kennedy Prints!”
and, as part of the exhibition,
Some people would call
Amos Paul Kennedy Jr.
an artist or a craftsman.
But the charismatic and
opinionated maker in
Gordo, Alabama, insists
he would rather be
known as a “humble
Negro printer.”
062 american craft dec/jani2
