The Center for Book Arts (CBA) in New York City is a nonprofit organization dedicated to preserving the traditional crafts of bookmaking. Located on West 27th Street in the section of Manhattan squeezed between the Flatiron District and Herald Square, the CBA lacks the sleek minimalist appearance or self-important grandeur that most art spaces in this city have. The nondescript, commercial building housing the CBA is nestled among wholesale storefronts and vendors; the only evidence of the Center’s existence from the street is its inclusion on the tenants’ list in the dingy lobby.

But once inside the Center, any visitor can understand the draw of this place. It has creaky wooden floors and industrial equipment, including the largest guillotine paper cutter I’ve ever seen. It’s like stepping into an old-fashioned print shop. There is a genuine feeling of work, past and present, in the air. You can smell it in the inks and glues, and you can feel it with every vibration coming from the operation of the large machines.

The Center for Book Arts also explores and encourages contemporary interpretations of the book as a form of fine art. Right in the middle of their bustling studio is their exhibition space, where the show, Dafatir, is currently on view. Dafatir (“notebook” in Arabic) is a group show for fifteen contemporary Iraqi artists. Some of these artists still live and work in Baghdad, Iraq—others are living in exile, in various countries.

The combination of contemporary Iraqi artists with an investigation of the book as art form is more than a coincidence. Modern-day Iraq is part of the ancient region of Mesopotamia, the area that many people consider the “cradle of civilization.” Some of the earliest literate societies originated in this region; back in the fourth millennium BCE. Recorded writing is part of the foundation of Middle Eastern cultural heritage. Dafatir borrows from the past when commenting on the present.

The particular book form, which is the subject of the current exhibit, is an interesting choice, given that notebooks are usually purely functional objects—portable and utilitarian. Yet all of the works on display in the Center’s show are dramatic in one way or another (most are oversized). Their unique appearance reminds me that notebooks are also intimate and personal places, where one can write down thoughts or feelings, and jot down whatever facts or tidbits of information strike one’s fancy. The fifteen artists in the exhibit have created “notebooks” of current events, as expressed by voices from both the private and public arenas. Their works become statements about cultural identity and political climate.