Copper Plate Daily

Looking in the mirror

2011-12-26T21:05:00.000-07:00

I received (as usual) a number of art books as gifts from my family over the holiday. They included exhibition catalogs, writings on the process of art, surveys of contemporary work and interviews with artists about their space and process. I have also had the chance to watch (or watch again) several episodes of the PBS series Art21, which looks at the work of various contemporary artists. All very interesting.

I got to thinking tonight about why this helps me. Or, perhaps more accurately, what is going on as I study this kind of material.

I find that I am constantly holding my work up to the work of others. These are the ways in which the work is alike. These are the ways in which they are different. If I like the work, why? Same question if I do not care for it.

Similarly, I am constantly holding myself and my artistic philosophy and my work habits up to compare them with these other artists. I agree with this, I disagree with that. I don't work like that. I can (or cannot) identify with that emotion.

In this sense, I guess, I am take a carefully considered approach to my work. It represents, at some level, an examination of the world and of myself. It reflects, at some level, who I am, the work I have done in the past, and the work of others that I have been exposed to.

As a printmaker, I spend a lot of time developing my control over the various processes that I use. But I never want the process to take the forefront. Rather, I want to use those processes to express my growing understanding of the imagery that I work with. And I want to push myself to understand more about why I am an artist. And what I have to say.

Letting things develop

2011-10-28T14:43:00.004-06:00

I finished a new print today, one that has been in the queue for some time. I first started playing with the image in September of 2008. I worked on it on and off for a couple of months, and then put it on the back burner. Somehow, it just wasn't coming together for me.

Over the next three years I would pull it up occasionally and fiddle with it. I never seemed to get it to the point where I was satisfied. In fact, I had not even decided for sure on the process I was going to use. Then a couple of weeks ago, everything fell into place. I knew what I wanted to do and how I wanted to do it. The image progressed nicely after that and I was able to move it to completion with no further road blocks.

Not every image requires this kind of percolation time, but this one did. I have also found that the images that I have tried to push to completion before I was ready were the ones where the print failed and never got editioned. For me at least, pushing too hard is a mistake. It will come together eventually. Or it won't and I will not have wasted too much time on it.

Cubic Feet

Color Woodcut - 2011

12 7/8 x 19 1/8

Edition of 18

More new work

2011-09-24T14:28:00.001-06:00

I finally got busy this week and photographed several recent pieces.

C44AC

Color Woodcut - 2011

17 1/2" x 23 1/2"

This is done from the same set of plates used to produce Tunnel Approach, which I wrote about earlier. I do not often print the same plates in more than one color scheme, but in this case there was a large value change between the ocher of the original first plate and the yellow of this one. I felt that the image read quite differently, so it was worth printing it again. You can judge for yourself. By the way, this one has been hanging around, unphotographed for a few months. I completed it in June.

Distributed Power
Color Woodcut - 2011
16 1/8" x 21 3/4"

This print is based on an image that I have had floating around in my queue for some time that I had not gotten to until recently. Interestingly enough, this is the same coal train as C44AC, this image is of the additional locomotive in the middle of the train. The color scheme here is a good example of neutrals. The lighter values are shifted a little towards the blue where the dark value is actually quite red.

No, I am not going to all rail imagery. The next couple of things on my list are completely different.

Self Portrait

2011-09-21T22:53:00.003-06:00

I think you can safely say that every artist has, at one time or another, created a self portrait. It makes perfect sense: you can be sure that the model is always available and they are guaranteed to work cheap.

When I think of self portraits, I always think of Rembrandt. Perhaps it is because I am a printmaker and he was such a prolific etcher. They are drawn with such a lovely economy of line. And the line quality is superb!

Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn
Self portrait in a cap, with eyes wide open
etching and engraving
1630

Among more contemporary artists, Jim Dine is a very prolific maker of self portraits. Many are of the 'look in the mirror and draw yourself' type, but he also produces more subtle ones, such as his series of bathrobe paintings and prints.

Jim Dine
The Robe Following Her
Oil on canvas
4' x 4'
1984-5

I did several self portraits as prints when I was in art school (not that long ago). Since then, however, I have focused almost exclusively on my landscape imagery. Stretching is good for us as artists, however, so when the opportunity presented itself recently, I decided to take it up again. Like my regular landscapes, the image has its origins in photography (yes, I took the photo... self timers are a wonderful thing) The photo gets me into the neighborhood, and then I make most of the decisions during the cutting.

I found that I needed to work these plates more than I usually do. I probably had 5 iterations all together, with changes to both of the plates. Perhaps I need more practice. All in all, this was a great exercise for me. It is one that I will probably come back to in the near future.

Dean Russell Thompson

Pulling the Proof
Color Woodcut
9 1/4" x 6 3/8"

2011
Copyright 2011, Dean Russell Thompson
All rights reserved

Multiple colors, one plate

2011-08-31T09:30:00.000-06:00

When I am decomposing an image for a woodcut, I usually cut one plate per color. There are exceptions to this of course. I will occasionally print one plate more than once with different inks, but the one-per-color approach dominates.

It doesn't have to be done that way, however.

One approach to multiple colors from a plate is to go to a reduction print. In it's simplest form, you start by carving away the areas you want to preserve as white. You then print the entire edition with your first color. You then carve away the areas you want to remain that color. Print again with a new color and repeat.

The other approach is to do everything at once and selectively ink your plate. I recently finished a small print where I used this technique.

Here is the setup:

This was a fairly straight forward, two color print. As usual I restrain the plate with a pair of L-shaped pieces cut from 1/4" MDF and taped to the bed of the press with double stick carpet tape. In this case, since the paper is only going through the press once, I didn't bother with registration pins. I did add an L-shaped piece of mat board to register my paper against. This helps me easily maintain my margins. I then cut a sheet of Tyvek (spun polyolefin) and cut a window that would expose the areas that I wanted to ink with red. It is taped to the registration L in the proper postion and folded back out of the way. I also put a couple of small pieces of tape on the opposite edge to hold the mask down when I am rolling on the ink. You could also use Mylar or acetate for this template. The key is to make sure that it doesn't become saturated with ink.

From there the process is pretty straight forward. Fold the mask over into position and carefully roll on the first color. The idea is to protect the areas that will be the second color. The tack of the ink will want to lift the mask (hence the tape opposite the hinge) so I try not to roll over it, but rather use it to protect against an error.

Next, fold back the template (you might want to tape another piece of Tyvek or paper down to the bed to keep ink off of it) and carefully roll on the second color. Here you are working without a net, so don't rush.

After all the colors are down, position your paper and print normally. This masking technique works best with two colors as the face of the mask would disturb the ink layer if you try to go to three or more.

1915

Color Woodcut - 2011
Dean Russell Thompson
6 1/8" x 8 1/8"

Cutting a plate

2011-03-29T23:56:00.000-06:00

I thought I would post a video today showing the process I use to cut a plate for a woodcut. The print in question here is a two plate, pseudo reduction print. The image is one I was reworking on a smaller scale from a previous print. I talked about the logic behind that here.

The plate material here is 1/2" MDF (Medium Density Fiberboard). The surface was sealed with a coat of thinned shellac and then a very thin coat of acrylic gesso was brushed over it. This gesso layer helps provide some tooth for trapping ink when I print the finished plate and it also provides a little texture, which also prints. A template is then glued down to the surface using rice starch glue. The template was printed on a laser printer, so the ink doesn't run when it gets wet.

All of the carving here is done with pneumatic (air driven) die grinders using solid carbide router bits and end mills. Think of them like a Dremel hobby grinder on steroids (I burned up a couple of those before I started using these air driven tools). They run much cooler and the bearings are rated for continuous duty. They do use a lot of air, however, so you need a 6 HP compressor or so to drive them. They are also loud, so I use ear protection and, of course, safety goggles.

Total elapsed time for this movie is probably about 7 hours.

Cutting a plate

Decorative vs ?

2011-03-14T15:28:00.000-06:00

When I was in art school, the most dismissive thing that could be said during a critique was that the work was 'decorative'. No one ever really explained exactly what this meant, but it was clear that this 'decorative art', no matter how well executed, was always going to be a lesser art, subservient somehow to the real thing.
'Real Art', 'Fine Art' or 'Serious Art" are all terms that get thrown around to describe the alternative to 'decorative' (or, commercial! Gasp!). I don't happen to like any of these terms as they seem arrogant and pretentious. But I do think that there is a difference.

Here, I think, is the essence of it: One type of art is about the image and the reaction that the image provokes (often, but not always beauty). In this type, each image stands more or less on its own. I think in this case of a gallery that I walked into one time with an exhibition of sunflower paintings. Some times turned this way, sometimes that, all with the same color pallet and lighting. Nice paintings, well executed. Each a complete, totally self contained image.
The 'other' type of art is about the image AND the artist. Here the artist has an idea, creates a piece that expresses that idea, and that creation somehow informs the next image. It may be in a refinement of the idea, in the marks, in the color or in the technique. The individual image may be striking, but it is in the series of images that you see the struggle of the artist with the idea or the medium, or the intersection of the two.
I am reminded of the room in the National Gallery in London where there are four of Monet's 'Haystack' paintings side by side. Each, by itself, is a lovely image, but the four together tells you much about what he was thinking about, looking at, and learning about.

I do not think that 'decorative' art (my first type) is inherently inferior to this second type. There are clearly more and less talented artists working in both spaces, and thus the quality varies. I am also somewhat at a loss for a term to describe this second type. Most of the words that are used (or that I can think of) seem self important. Exploratory Art? Inquisitive Art? You choose.

Choosing Colors

2011-01-26T23:17:00.000-07:00

I recently had a conversation with another artist about choosing colors. My woodcuts tend to have fairly simple color schemes, (2-5 colors), so the color choice is important. Perhaps surprisingly though, those decisions tend to happen fairly late in the process. For much of the time that I am working on an image, I am treating it as a greyscale image, concentrating on it as a limited set of values. Since I am working with a modified key block approach to constructing my plates, I have the opportunity to do a trial proof (or more than one) to explore the color set once all the plates have been cut.

For the trial proof, I mix a small quantity of all of the ink colors that I am going to use and then print each plate in quick succession, wet in wet. I dust the print with baby powder after each impression to stabilize the ink somewhat so that the following color will trap better. I tap out each color onto a color card and record the inks that I used to mix the color (with the most plentiful color first). When I go print the edition I use this card as a guide to mix the larger quantity of ink that I will need. I find that having the color splotch and the list of colors involved allows me to hit the color pretty accurately. I make the color cards by printing on scraps of editioning paper with a laser printer.

In general, I use a split primary pallet (two of each primary color, a warm and a cool shade) along with a set of secondaries. I also use a couple of whites and tint bases. When I am mixing colors I am concerned about the value (how light/dark) and the degree of transparency as well as the hue. Since I often stack colors the degree of transparency makes a big difference in how the colors are perceived in the finished print.

Here are the color cards for a recent print. These are presented in the order that they are laid down in the final print, running as usual from lightest to darkest. This particular print has a complementary color scheme with cool colors on the extremes of the value spectrum and warm colors in the middle. By the way, all of these are lithographic inks that I will tweak to lower the tack and viscosity before they are printed.

The first color started by mixing a dark blue. Daniel Smith Indanthrone Blue has a mass tone similar to an Ultramarine blue, but the undertone is quite a bit different. I find that it is almost a perfect compliment to Handshy Sun Orange. I slowly add the orange to the blue to pull down the saturation of the blue (make it more grey) and make it darker. When I get it close to where I want it, I pick up some Graphic Chemical Opaque White and add a very small amount of the mixed blue to it to create a tint of approximately the right value. If necessary, I will tweak the tint with tiny additions of the blue or orange to adjust the hue and bring the tint down to the proper value.

Color #2 is also a light tint (actually lighter than #1, but they do not overprint in this image). Again, I start by mixing a hot orange by adding Sun Orange to Daniel Smith Hansa Yellow Medium. Then I mix it into the white as before. The addition of Graphic Chemical Laketine lowers the opacity of this color somewhat.

Color #3 is a hot orange using the same Hansa Yellow Medium / Sun Orange combination as before. This time, however, some Laketine is added to the mix, but no white. This results in a lighter color (more transparent) but doesn't bleed out the saturation as much as white would.

Color #4 is a very warm (almost hot) red. Sun Orange is the base. A very small amount of Indanthrone Blue is added to pull down the saturation. The mix is then pushed to the red side by the addition of a small amount of Handshy Burgundy Red. This is a cool, very transparent red, with an extremely high tinting strength. The result is a bright, fairly transparent color that is used full strength (no white or Laketine)

The final color is a dark, transparent blue. This is actually the same color as the base blue for #1. Because it is so transparent, however, and is printed almost completely on top of #3 & #4, it reads in the final print as a very dark, very cool red.

And the final print.

Brock

Color Woodcut

21 1/4" x 19 3/8"

Edition of 15

Tunnel Approach

2011-01-24T22:05:00.001-07:00

A while back I discussed the notion of revisiting an idea. Today I completed printing an edition where I did just that. Here is the original:

Moffett, Eastbound

2007

Color Woodcut

40" x 54"

This is a pretty successful print. I have been able to show it several times and, due in part to its size, I get a lot of comments on it. So why revisit it, especially with a similar treatment?

I have always intended to come back to this and try some different color treatments. One of the drawbacks of the original, however, is the same thing that makes it so imposing... its sheer size. Face it, there are not all that many people who have a wall space big enough for an image of that size. So in reworking it, I reduced the size significantly. The result is still a good sized print, but one that is a little more accessible. In the four years since I produced the original, I have evolved in my understanding of cutting and printing woodcuts. There have always been a couple of technical things that bugged me about the original plates, and in reworking them I have had the chance to address them.

The new print retains many of the essential components of the original image. The general composition of the image remains the same (although the image is mirrored) and the two color scheme is retained as well. The marks, however, are quite different, due in part to the difference in scale, as well as the evolution of my technique.

All in all, this has been a worth while exercise. I may print from the new plates again if an appropriate idea strikes me and then again, I may not. Time will tell.

Tunnel Approach

2011

Color Woodcut

17 1/2" x 23 1/2"

The Joy of Ink

2010-10-05T22:36:00.000-06:00

Ok, I am not normally one to link to videos, but this one touched a soft spot for me. There is something about ink that gets under the skin (and under the fingernails) of every printmaker. We love the way the stuff goes down on paper, the way it layers, the way it shines. I love to mix color, to stand at the slab and work the ink, seeing the colors slowly shift and blend as you fold it and stretch it.

I even like the smell of it.

This video is about making commercial printing ink, which is somewhat different than the stuff I work with every day, but you can feel the joy that comes from beautiful ink.

Special thanks to Amie Roman for the link.

No Services

2010-09-25T15:43:00.005-06:00

I recently completed a new woodcut. It has four plates which are cut in a pseudo-reduction fashion. Three of the plates are 1/2" MDF and the fourth is 1/2" CDX Plywood. The MDF is sealed with shellac and a thin coat of acrylic gesso. The plywood plate is sealed with shellac only. All plates receive an additional seal coat after cutting.

The inks are oil based litho inks from Daniel Smith, Handshy and Graphic Chemical. A small amount of Cobalt drier was used. There was roughly 24 hours dry time between colors. The proofs are printed on Rives BFK (280 gsm) with a second sheet of BFK used as an impression sheet. Pin registration was used.

No Services

Color Woodcut - 2010

6 3/4" x 8 1/4"

The confounding world of Digital Color

2010-08-11T22:08:00.003-06:00

Artists need to photograph their work. In the modern world of digital cameras and printers, what could be easier? Take that piece outside, lean it up against the wall and pull out the old 'point and shoot' camera (or even your iPhone) and snap away. When you download the image and pull it up on the monitor, you discover that the colors are all funny. Put a piece of photo paper in the printer and print, and the colors are still all funny, just a different funny.

What is going on?

Welcome to the very complex, powerful and sometimes bewildering world of digital color.

The bad news is that there are so many ways you can mess yourself up in this world it sometimes seems a miracle that you can ever get a decent photo of your work. The good news is that unlike the days of silver based film, many artists have powerful tools available to them to help them get the color right.

I am not going to give you all the answers here, but I will try to explain a little how the world of digital color works. It should help you make better sense of your tools and give you the ability to ask the right questions should you decide to seek professional help.

Let's start with the camera. The picture file that comes out of your camera (usually a .jpg) in its simplest abstraction represents a stream of pixels, each represented by three numbers, representing the Red, Green and Blue components of a color. Specifically, it represents the nearest color in the target color space. The default color space for most cameras is sRGB. It defines a finite set of possible colors (called the gamut). Note that not all colors exist in this set. Other profiles exist that have a different gamut, that is a different set of possible colors. (two common ones are Adobe RGB and ProPhoto RGB). The image processor in the camera knows how to take the raw numbers that come from the sensor and map them into this standard space. A simplistic way to think about it is to imagine that there are three numbers (small positive or small negitive values) that get added to each of the Red Green and Blue values from the sensor to transform them into the correct values in the sRGB space. Except it is more like a set of numbers for each possible combination or RGB values. What actually happens is a good deal more complex than that, but this abstraction will do. This set of correction values is specific to the design of the sensor. It is called the profile for the sensor, and it is built right into the camera (if you are using a digital SLR and shooting in .RAW mode, the profile is built into the program you use to create the .jpg on your computer, such as Adobe Camera Raw which is part of Photoshop).

So your camera has now created the perfect image, right? Well, close. One of the important pieces of information that is missing is the exact color of the light that was illuminating the scene when the camera took the picture. This is the white balance or color temperature setting (expressed in degrees Kelvin, eg. 6500°K). When your camera is in auto mode, the image processor takes a guess, based on what it sees, of what the correct value is and stores this in the image file. The problem is, that this is at best a guess and is often wrong. You can usually influence this using camera settings, or you can set it after the fact using Photoshop. In order to do that accurately, however, you must have something white (or neutral grey) in the photo. Taking two shots, one with a piece of printer paper in the view will give you the info you need. Camera Raw will then allow you to point at that part of the image and say, in effect, this is white. In my experience, getting this set right is the single most important part of color correction.

After you load your image onto your computer, you want to look at it. So the operating system reads the RGB values out of the image file and using a different profile, sets the values of the pixels that will be displayed by the monitor. This profile may be a generic one or it may be one provided by the manufacturer of the monitor. In either case, what is happening is that the process that went on in the camera is reversed. Here you are tweaking the values so that the monitor will display the color closest to that specified by the color space. The problem is that this profile may not be very accurate. Have you ever seen the same file look radically different on different computers? The profile is the problem. The generic profile usually isn't even close. The manufacturer profile gets you in the general neighborhood, but doesn't account for variations between different monitors of the same model or performance under different lighting conditions. So, if the color doesn't look right on the screen, is the problem in the file or the profile? The only way to know is to calibrate your monitor.

Monitor calibration is done with a device that reads the colors that the monitor is actually putting out (and, perhaps, the ambient light conditions as well) and uses a program to create a custom profile for your monitor. The operating system then uses this profile to adjust the values, resulting in the truest representation of the colors represented in the file. Then if the color on the screen doesn't look right, the problem is in the file and you can use Photoshop or some other program to make the necessary adjustments. These calibration devices vary widely in price and accuracy. The Pantone huey Pro is a good entry level tool that usually sells for less than $100USD. At the high end, it is like stereo gear: the sky is the limit. The important thing to realize is that ANY calibration is better than none, and the simplest calibration will get you 80% or more of the possible improvement.

The third step in the chain occurs when you go to print a copy of your image. Your trusty photo printer comes with a set of profiles that tell the print driver how to tweak the values to get the right color on the page. It is important to remember, however, that the profile is specific to the ink and the medium. To get the best color, it is important to make sure that you have the correct paper type set in the print driver before you print. Glossy photo paper is not mat photo paper.

What actually goes on in the printer driver is much more complex. The image file is expressed as RGB values which are additive primaries. This is great when dealing with light, but when dealing with ink, we work with subtractive color. The primaries for that are Cyan, Magenta and Yellow (usually with Black added in). This is CMYK color in computer speak. So what actually happens is that the driver first maps things from the sRGB color space into the CMYK color space and then adjusts things based on the profile. Here again, this is a simplification, but you get the idea.

So... If you want a good image, you can usually get it by doing three things:

Calibrate your monitor. Recalibrate it every once in a while as well.
Set the white balance correctly, either in the camera or afterwards with Photoshop
Make sure that you tell the printer driver what media you are using to print on.

Easy, right?

Revisiting an idea

2010-07-24T14:46:00.008-06:00

I once had a art professor comment to me that most artists (student artists in this particular case) give up on an idea too quickly. I think that is some truth in that. While there are certainly many who take a particular idea and beat it to death with infinitesimal variations, (and many dealers who encourage it) there is a lot to be said for approaching the same topic or image multiple times, either together or spread out over time.

The question is, have you said everything you have to say? Or perhaps, have you observed everything there is to observe. If you are pushing yourself at all as an artist, your work will evolve naturally. Your techniques will change, your color palate and sensibilities will become more refined, or, at least, change.

Whenever I think about this subject, I think of Claude Monet. There were cathedrals, haystacks and, of course, water lilies. He painted them over, and over, and over. Yet I don't think that he was simply grinding out something he knew would sell. Each of those paintings was the result of a keen observation. He was chasing an elusive representation of what his eyes saw, and what his hand could capture.

Some may feel that Monet's work was more decorative than deep (I don't happen to agree) but there are many other examples where the same images or ideas come up over and over. Jim Dine's Hearts and Bathrobes, David Smith's Stainless Steel cubes, Mark Rothko's shimmering rectangles of color... each were working with an idea that they felt compelled to return to.

I recently came back to an image that I have worked before. In 2006 I produced a 3 plate woodcut of a decommissioned sugar factory that is near my studio. The shape of the structures, the textures of the metal and the play of light all caught my interest. My first version of this differed from much of my work at the time, since I did not push to a full range of values.

Composition 137
2006
Color Woodcut
13 1/4" x 9 7/8"
Copyright 2006, Dean Russell Thompson

In the second version, produced within a couple of weeks of the first, I replaced one of the plates, and went very dark. The colors in this version were more closely connected (as opposed to the complementary scheme of the first). A different time of day, but clearly the same image.

Composition 137a
2006
Color Woodcut
13 1/2" x 9 7/8"
Copyright 2006, Dean Russell Thompson

I have often thought I would come back and work this again, but other ideas kept intruding (and there was a studio to set up). I finally decided it was time, but I wanted to manipulate more than just the color/value scheme. For the new print, I changed the composition somewhat. I always felt that the originals were a little too centrally composed for my tastes. The color scheme is similar to the first, but there are four plates in the new version, printed with two sets of closely related colors. One of the background plates also has some textures which come through in the play of the colors (although at the scale of this photo it is kind of hard to see).

Do I dislike the originals? No, and it is clear to me from peoples reactions to them that there is something about them that captures the eye. But for me it was time to think it through anew. Something tells me that I am not done yet.

Amalgamated
2010
Color Woodcut
14 1/2" x 7 3/8"
Edition of 10
Copyright 2010, Dean Russell Thompson

The Collaborative Art

2010-07-23T21:06:00.005-06:00

I work alone most days. This is not really by choice, so much as by circumstance. Unlike many printmakers, I am fortunate enough to have my own studio. This has some distinct advantages (things stay pretty clean and if they don't I have no one to blame but myself) but there are also some drawbacks.

When I was in art school, we worked in a collaborative studio. There was almost always someone else around. We would look at each others work, talk about the ideas behind it, collaborate on colors and textures and pick each others brains about processes. Sometimes (OK, fairly frequently) we would just shoot the breeze while we sat around working on our plates. The discussion revved you up, and pretty soon ideas are just boiling...

Now I spend my days, head down, working steadily along, with only Jack, my studio dog, for company.

Jack the Studio Dog

I wonder, sometimes, if my work would be better if I were a more direct participant in the collaborative environment of this collaborative art (Jack, after all, doesn't have much to say). If not better, would I just get to the place faster? Most of my work, after all, isn't seen by anyone until it is done, or nearly done.

I recently had a chance to visit one of my school friends in her studio. Sarah is a member of the team at Modern Multiples, a Serigraph studio in Los Angeles founded by
Richard Duardo. I don't work with Serigraphs, so it was great to see the facilities, meet the staff and talk about the art and the processes.

Sarah in her office at Modern Multiples

Then, a couple of weeks later, Sarah was in town and visited me at my studio, Copper Plate Press. We spent a couple of hours looking at work, talking art, talking art business, and looking at some processes.

These experiences helped me to realize how much I miss that collaboration, and got me to thinking about how I can bring it back into my art and my life as an artist. No real answers yet, but time will tell.

East 18th

2010-05-25T19:39:00.005-06:00

I have just completed editioning a new 4 plate woodcut.

The image is derived from a fire escape on a building in central Denver. Nothing particularly unusual, but, like many things it caught my eye.

Each of the plates is 1/2" MDF. The plate is primed with a layer of cut shellac, then a thin layer of acrylic gesso. There are some faint brush marks left in the gesso. After cutting, I seal the whole surface with an additional coat of shellac.

The print is cut as a pseudo-reduction print. That is, although there are four physically separate plates, the imagery on each is mostly a reduction of the previous layer. This gives me some of the look of a reduction print, but I have more flexibility to depart from strict reduction. I can also do a trial proof in advance of the edition, something not possible on a strict reduction print.

It is printed on Rives BFK, 22x30 using the punch registration system discussed in the previous post. The inks are various combinations of Yellow Ochre (Graphic Chemical), Indanthrone Blue (Daniel Smith), Burgundy Red (Handshy), Opaque White (Graphic Chemical) and Crayon Black (Daniel Smith). A little Cobalt drier was added to the ink so that printing could occur on consecutive days.

East 18th
Color Woodcut
22 1/2" x 11 5/8"
Edition of 10
Copyright 2010, Dean Russell Thompson
All Rights Reserved

Punch Registration

2010-05-05T12:22:00.009-06:00

Punch registration systems use a paper punch and registration pins to align paper and plates. I have experimented with this kind of system in the past, but I like to maintain the deckle edges on my paper, so the idea of trimming off the punches after printing did not hold a lot of appeal. On my most recent woodcut, I tried a new variation that overcomes this objective and seems to work very well.

The first step in consistent registration is making sure that your plates are exactly the same size and that the image is in register relative to the edges of the plate. You then need a way to repeatably position the plate relative to an external reference. To do this, I use two L-shaped pieces of 1/8" MDF, with a couple of pieces of double stick carpet tape on the back of them. I place the first one down, with the long edge parallel to the press roller. A rap over the tape with a mallet ensures that it is stuck down solidly. The width of the long arm of this L needs to be at least an inch and a half or so wider than the margin on the edition paper. I then place the first plate against the MDF, tight against the corner of the L. I then place a second L at the opposite diagonal corner, also taped down to the bed of the press.

A plate and registration Ls

If you have done this right, and all of your plates are exactly the same size you should be able to lift the plate out and put a different one into place easily, there should be no lateral movement of the plate when it is in place.

The next step is to create a set of punched sheets, one for each sheet of paper in the edition. To do this you can use a specialized registration punch, or an ordinary 3 hole paper punch purchased from a local office supply store. The key is to make sure that you can find pins that precisely match the diameter of the holes created by the punch. The exact spacing of the holes is not critical.

Registration punch (left) and 3 hole punch (right)

A registration pin

These pins are fairly specialized equipment and are not particularly cheap, but the good news is that they should last nearly forever. I purchased these from Takach Press.

Cut a strip of heavy paper or Mylar about 2" wide and long enough to straddle all of the holes in your punch for each of the sheets of paper in your edition. Punch holes in each of these sheets. The critical item here is that the spacing between these holes be exactly the same on each of these sheets. The position of the pattern of holes on the paper itself is not critical. This should be easy since the spacing of the holes is determined by the punch.

Place a sheet of your edition paper face down on the press bed in the proper position for printing. Place one of the punched sheets on top of the edition paper with the holes hanging over the edge of the paper, but over the registration L. Then tape the punched paper to the back of the edition paper. You want to use a tape that holds securely and yet can be removed without pulling up fibers from the edition paper. I used Scotch Removable tape for this. I used two long strips of tape, the first running along the edge and the second overlapping the first and extending further out on to the edition sheet.

The extension sheet taped in place

In this photo, the punch sheet is butted up against the edge of the paper. I have found, however, that the tape holds better if the two overlap somewhat.

Next, take 3 pieces of masking tape and punch a hole in them with the punch. Take the tape and place it over the registration pin.

A taped pin

Then take the pins and slip them under the punch sheet and push the head of a registration pin through each of the holes. If the holes and pins match in size they should pretty much stay there by themselves.

The pins in position in the punch sheet.

Make sure that the edition paper is in the right position for printing and then carefully smooth the tape down, sticking the pin to the L. Once they are firmly in position, peel the edition paper / punch sheet off of the pins. At this point your first sheet of edition paper is ready to go.

Take another punch sheet and place it over the pins. You usually have to work the pins through the holes one at a time.

The next punch sheet in position.

Take your next sheet of edition paper and slide it into the proper position making sure that the paper goes under the edge of the punch sheet. Once there, tape the punch sheet to the edition paper as before. Peel the combination off of the pins and repeat for each of the remaining sheets of edition paper.

Now you are ready to lay down your first color. Put the plate in place and ink it. Take your first sheet of edition paper and holding the edge up away from the plate with your right hand, work the punch sheet down over the registration pins with your left. (If you are left handed, you will probably find it easier to reverse the whole thing and have the pins on the right) Once you have done so, hold the punch sheet down so that it cannot come off of the pins and put a little tension on the sheet with your right hand. Then gently lower the sheet into contact with the plate. Put your impression sheet(s) in place and you are ready to run it through the press.

L with pins, punch sheet, edition paper and
impression sheet in position and ready to go

For consistency, I have the pins lead under the press roller first (so that any slip pulls the paper into tension against the pins). I also lift the plate and move the press back after each impression so that the bed of the press travels the same way for each proof.

Print your first color on each of the sheets, let it dry as appropriate and then do the next color in the same way. The punch sheet remains taped to the edition sheet through the whole process. When the last color is down, gently peel the tape off separating the punch sheet and the edition sheet. Your deckle will be pristine and your registration tight and consistent.

In this example, I am printing a woodcut with 1/2" plate material, so the printing surface sits 1/4" higher than the surface of the L. This allows the pins to move under the press roller without touching it. If you are using unmounted Linoleum or an intaglio plate, you need to shim the plate up so that the pins will clear the roller.

This seems elaborate, but it really isn't all that complicated. Using the first sheet to position the pins on the registration L establishes a repeatable positioning of the pins to the plate. Subsequent sheets are positioned relative to the plate and then are locked into that position by taping the punch sheet and the edition sheet together.

Whenever possible, you want to position things such that the punch sheet attaches to the middle of the long edge of the print. This is important as it will help to minimize the effects of any slop in the system.

Northern Pacific

2010-04-30T21:10:00.006-06:00

I completed a new edition today. Northern Pacific is an image of a railroad drawbridge, in the raised position, near the Port of Seattle. It is a three plate color woodcut. All three plates are 1/2" MDF, sealed with shellac, a thin coat of acrylic gesso and then a second coat of shellac applied after cutting. It is printed on Rives BFK, 280 gsm weight. The paper is 22x30. The inks are Lithographic inks from Hanschy, Graphic Chemical and Daniel Smith, modified with 00 Burnt Plate Oil and a touch of Cobalt Drier. The colors were printed on three consecutive days.

I used a new punch registration system on this print, with excellent results. It is far easier for one person to handle than the pin system I have been using and appears to hold a tighter tolerance as well. The specific approach I am using does not require trimming the paper after printing, so the deckle is preserved. I will describe the system in detail in another post in a few days.

Northern Pacific
Color Woodcut
21 1/2" x 14 3/8"
Edition of 10
Copyright 2010, Dean Russell Thompson
All rights reserved

Failure is always an option

2010-04-20T21:53:00.002-06:00

In the movie Apollo 13, Gene Kranz, the Flight Director, asserts that "Failure is not an option!". It isn't clear whether he actually said that, but he certainly believed it.

For me, as an artist, the opposite is true. Failure is always an option.

I was working on a plate for a new print this afternoon, which was actually going quite well. Good strong image, I think. But, behind the safety glasses and the ear protection, my mind is going on about this and that, as well as concentrating on what I was doing (funny, how your mind can do that.. at least mine does). I got to thinking about various works that have just never progressed to completion. Sometimes, it is just being stuck. Other times, despite liking parts of the print, it just never quite hangs together to my satisfaction. It is, at least for the present, a failure.

I am ok with that.

So I put the plates to the side and start something new. I think it is possible for a work to become too precious. You can get sucked into it. You start thinking 'I have put too much time into this, I have to finish it!' But you really don't. Better to drop it than put out something that is less than what you know it should be.

I have even reneged on a completed edition or two. Looking at it later, I decide that I really don't like it all that much. So it comes off of the web site, and disappears into what I call the 'Oh no zone'.

To paraphrase, He who fails and walks away, gets to fail again some day...

... and his art will be better for it.

New Editions

2010-04-15T23:18:00.005-06:00

I have been busy editioning several new prints over the last little bit. It seems like I have had more work in progress, and less finished. I am sort of catching up on the backlog.

North Union
Soft Ground Galvanic Etching with Roulette
5 3/4" x 9 1/4"
Edition of 10
Copyright 2010, Dean Russell Thompson

This image seemed to percolate for quite a while. It went through about 6 states, with several etches, a lot of scraping and a little tonal addition with a roulette. The edition is printed on warm white Revere velum finish with a warm black ink.

North Lake Way
Color Woodcut
21 7/8" x 14 1/4"
Edition of 10
Copyright 2010, Dean Russell Thompson

This is a three plate color woodcut, with all three plates cut on 1/2" MDF (Medium Density Fiberboard). The MDF was prepped by applying a coat of thinned shellac, followed by a thin coat of acrylic gesso. After cutting, the plate was sealed with a second coat of shellac. This is the method I have been using for all of my plates as of late, and it seems to work well. This is a rare example of a print where everything goes right. All three plates were right on the first pass, and I only did one trial proof for color.

Public Works, 1932
Color Woodcut
10 3/4" x 23 1/4"
Edition of 10
Copyright 2010, Dean Russell Thompson

This image is a concrete arch bridge on California Highway 1, just south of Carmel.In contrast, this is a case where nearly everything was wrong. It is a two plate color woodcut. The first plate is 1/2" CDX plywood. Some surface areas were partially filled with wood putty before being sealed with shellac. The second plate is 1/2" MDF, prepped as before. I wasn't happy with the way the image was developing and ended up cutting each plate twice, discarding the first one in both instances. In one case, I changed plate material, in the other case, I wanted to add back in some areas that I had cut away. I color proofed it three different times before I was satisfied with the color scheme. It is editioned on Rives BFK, warm white, 280 gsm weight. The paper is 22"x30" so it has a hefty margin.

I printed the edition here with less pressure than I have been using and with no blanket. The edition paper was backed with a second sheet of BFK and I fudged the plate in a couple of places with a few small strips of blotter placed under the plate.

Trying to scratch the unreachable itch

2010-03-18T22:35:00.003-06:00

I think I can honestly say that I have never created a work that I am completely satisfied with. Or at least that I stay completely satisfied with. Why is that?
Sometimes the discontent is technical. The registration isn't perfect. There is a hint of a lap mark in that one color field. Or the paper is a little stretched and you cannot get it to stay perfectly flat.
More often the issue is aesthetic. If only I had moved that shape a little to the left. I would like this better if there were a little more value separation between those two colors. That color needs to be more opaque. That color is too opaque. What was I thinking?
Yada, yada, yada...
It sometimes feels like I am trying to scratch an itch that I cannot quite reach. You can almost reach it, and gee... that feels better, until a couple of minutes later when you realize that it still itches! I get something that is working well, I am focused on the big picture, and gee... I am happy with that. And then a day or so later, you look at it again and start to see the problems. And soon, sometimes all you can see are the problems.
I am beginning to understand why some artists keep coming back to the same topic or image over and over and over. This time I will get it right. This time I will scratch that itch properly!
The good news is, this chronic dissatisfaction keeps me striving to improve. To refine the technical skills. To push on and make more work. Perhaps I just need to learn to live in the moment. Enjoy the moments when I am creating and be satisfied with the moment when I am happy with the result.

One of those days

2010-02-08T21:42:00.003-07:00

I had one of those days today. The kind of day where nothing goes right. I was pulling a trial proof of a new intaglio print. Four plates, etched in a variety of ways. My color choices stunk, the ink layers were not trapping properly, I may have to do a major rework on one or more of the plates... Sigh...

It is about this point that that little naysayer pops up on my shoulder and questions why I EVER thought I could be an artist. What was I thinking!?

I guess this is a symptom, however, of being willing to take a risk. I am pushing my processes here into unfamiliar territory and the result is occasionally a disaster. It certainly was today. On the whole, when I am thinking clearly, I would rather have one of those days once in a while than play it safe all the time. I could repeat myself, making variations on images I have made before, using colors I have used before, and processes that I have down pat. But all in all that sounds pretty boring. I am pretty sure the result would not be good art. I think you have to strike out, make the bold mark, try something new. The medium will fight back and you are guaranteed a surprise or two. But sometimes in fixing that disaster you discover something interesting.

I will be back at it tomorrow.

Why printmaking?

2009-12-31T10:50:00.006-07:00

A recent comment on Amie Roman's blog makes the claim that printmaking, as an art form 'is dead'. This was in response to an entry where she discussed reproductions vs. original prints. I have written on this topic myself.

This got me thinking. Why am I a printmaker? Other than the investment in presses I mean. What was it about the print medium that I found (and find) attractive? Several reasons I think (these are in no particular order).

Printmaking is contemplative
You typically do not make a print in a hurry. There are exceptions to this, of course, especially in the case of monotypes, but by an large the creation of a print is a matter of days, rather than hours. This gives you a lot of time to think about what you are doing and how the image is coming together. There is also a lot of 'busy' time associated with making prints. When you are pulling an edition, you are inking and wiping with one part of your mind while contemplating the other images you have in process with another. I get some of my best ideas while I am working on something else. And I always have at least three or four images actively in process, (four at the moment) with at least as many in the back of my mind or at some stage of development. For me, printmaking is a thinking art... I spend a lot of time thinking about the decisions I have to make. And for me, that is a good thing.

I have a huge array of marks available to me
Like drawing, printmaking is about mark making. I work in several different print processes (relief, intaglio and lithography) and each brings its own unique universe of marks. Drypoint, engraving, aquatint, line etch, mezzotint and carborundum are all intaglio processes, yet each has its own set of distinctive and characteristic marks. The other processes have a similar range of possibilities. Then there is the way ink layers (wet on wet, wet on dry) the impacts of viscosity, transparency etc. It all adds up to a nearly infinite range of possibilities. And the medium fights back. There is always a measure of surprise when you peel the paper back from the plate and see the result.

I love paper and ink
There is something sensual about the feel of heavy 100% cotton rag paper. It has a crisp body as single sheets and a pliable mass when working with multiple sheets. It tears beautifully along a straightedge when it is damp, leaving a lovely false deckle. When you pull the blankets back after running a plate through the press, you can see the embossing of the image on the versa, hinting at the beautiful surprise when you pull the paper up and reveal the image. My wife sometimes helps me in the studio, and, although she is not an artist, she also feels the pull of the paper and the wonder of the transformation when you pull up that last color.
I also appreciate the tactile joys of working with ink. Pulling some from the can and working it on the slab with a knife to loosen it up gets my creative juices going. There is magic in the slow transformation that occurs as you work two colors and they slowly mix to become something new. Ink is stiffer than paint, and it resists while you are mixing it, and some how or other, that is part of the pleasure. I also love the hiss that the roller makes on the slab when you are picking up more ink. There is also a methodical concentration when rolling up a litho or woodcut, your eyes and your ears weighing the state of the ink and the image.

Prints are infinitely mutable
You can transform an image in the print mediums, and change it, and rework it. You can send a plate back to the etch, you can scrape it back, you can pick up a needle and scrape some more lines, counter etch a stone and work back into the image, add another plate, spread on some more gel and grit, tweak a color, do a surface roll, change the color of the paper, and on and on and on. Master the basic processes, and they can be combined in infinite variety.

Printmaking is connected with tradition
Many of the great artists in history have worked in one of the print media. I once had the opportunity to copy, on a plate, an original Rembrandt etching. I wouldn't claim to have done it justice, but I really studied that image. You could see the incredible delicacy of line that really is only possible in an etching. You could feel his sure hand at work. In other prints in that exhibition, you could almost feel darkness in the deep velvety blacks, and the figures emerging from the shadows into the light. The processes that Dutch man used so many years ago have come down to me nearly unchanged. It is still about scratching, carving, scraping and biting.

These are some of the joys I take in making prints. In the studio at the university, I have seen other students get sucked into the wonder of printmaking as well. Printmaking will thrive as long and printmakers take joy in working this way. Astute collectors will always appreciate the direct hand of the artist in the work that can be found in an Original Print.

Process Color

2009-12-31T09:31:00.004-07:00

A while back I wrote about color and pigment in inks and paints (Copper Plate Daily - October 10 2009). I have been thinking lately about the differences between mixing colored inks and using process color.

For those of you that are unfamiliar with the term, process color is the mechanism of creating color on a substrate by printing dots of carefully chosen primary colors in close proximity and allowing optical mixing (the tendency of the eye to blend colors) to create the final perceived color. Pick up a magazine with a color photo and you are looking at an example of process color. Traditional commercial printing uses 4 primaries for this purpose (Cyan, Magenta, Yellow and Black) and is referred to as CMYK color.

If you have ever seen a painting in person that you have seen reproduced in a book, you were probably struck by the difference in the vibrancy (and subtlety) of the colors. This points up one of the essential limitations of process color: a restricted color gamut. Simply put, a gamut is the volume of the total color space that can be represented by a color system. For any set of pigments (under a given lighting condition) there are some colors that cannot be achieved. These are referred to as being outside the gamut.

The gamut of a process color system system depends on the the set of primary pigments chosen, the halftone dot size, dot spacing, ink film thickness, substrate reflectivity and substrate absorbency (among others).

The increasing sophistication of inkjet printing technology is improving the performance of process color. High end printers now use more primary colors, allow smaller, more closely spaces dots, etc. The results are impressive.

In contrast, mixing and printing with colored inks has very different color affects. At the lowest level, optical mixing is still taking place, but the 'dot size' is now the pigment particle size. The more colors in the the printmakers 'pallet', the wider the effective gamut. Add in various whites, blacks, tint bases, film thicknesses, print order, and more and you have an astonishing range of color subtlety available. More 'paint like' if you will, just not normally applied with a brush.

This is not to suggest that process color is bad. It simply is. Like any set of processes and materials, it has a range of possibilities and limitations.

Staring you in the face

2009-12-29T21:03:00.002-07:00

I had one of those little 'well of course' moments today. I have been working on an intaglio plate with some very deeply etched areas. I decided that I would add some acrylic gel / carborundum grit to these in place of an aquatint to provide some texture as well as tone. I proofed the plate this morning and noticed that there were some areas where the gel had gotten on the unetched areas, causing a little unwanted shadowing, so I then had to figure the best way to remove it. First, I tried a triangular scraper. This worked but, as these were pretty tight spaces, it was touchy... lots of room for error. Then I tried a little solvent on a cotton swab, but this was like trying to tie your shoes while wearing mittens. Not so easy. I tried a couple of little pieces of wood to sort of scrape the stuff off after softening it with solvent, but again it was kind of clumsy.

I was sitting at my drawing table where I do this kind of work, thinking when I noticed a 2B charcoal pencil in the pencil tray. Since a charcoal block is sometimes used to polish a plate, I though, why not give it a try. I just sharpened it to a kind of chisel point and rubbed. Worked great!

Just another example of an unorthodox use of material.

New work

2009-10-29T21:59:00.010-06:00

I have been busy in the studio recently and am finally getting caught up on photographing my work. The processes used in these prints vary, but they all are 'unseen landscapes' of the modern world.

West to Memphis - 2009
Color Woodcut on Rives BFK
14.75" x 34" (22" x 30" paper)
Edition of 6
Copyright 2009, Dean Russell Thompson

Rest Stop - 2009
Galvanic Etching on Rives BFK
8.25" x 13.25" (22" x 30" paper)
Edition of 10
Copyright 2009, Dean Russell Thompson

Signal Mountain Road - 2009
Engraving on Rives BFK
5.625" x 6.125" (10" x 11" paper)
Edition of 16
Copyright 2009, Dean Russell Thompson

REA - 2009
Color Lithograph on Rives BFK
2.5" x 13.18" (15" x 22" paper)
Edition of 8
Copyright 2009, Dean Russell Thompson

Color and Lighting

2009-10-22T10:37:00.004-06:00

I recently replaced the lighting in my studio, and in the process gained quite a bit better understanding of how different lights affect our perceptions of color.

There are two questions that you need to consider in this realm.

What color is the light?

How well does that light allow you to differentiate colors?

The color of the light can be expressed two ways: in words (Warm White, Cool White, Daylight) or in terms of color temperature (expressed in degrees Kelvin. e.g. 6500K). This can make a big difference. I have cool white lamps in one room (4100K) and the new lights have a cooler rating (5000K). They are noticeably bluer (or whiter, depending on which light you have gotten used to. 'Daylight' florescent lamps are cooler still at 6500K. Real daylight actually varies quite a bit: direct sun, northern light, overcast days, early morning, late afternoon all have different colors. I chose the 5000K lamps as a nice compromise. To me they seem to approximate the light you would see coming through a north facing window.

Why is the color of the light so important? Remember that our inks work by absorbing and scattering the colors that are present in the light that strikes them. Those colors can move quite a bit with the color of the light we are viewing them under.

The second factor, our ability to differentiate different colors, depends on what frequencies of light are in the white light mix. This is sometimes expressed for a given lighting option as a 'Color Rendering Index' or CRI. My old lights were High Intensity Discharge (HID) metal halide lamps. They were ok from a color temperature perspective (although the lamps were getting old, so they were not very consistent) but they score only fair on the CRI scale at 65. The new florescent lamps do better with a CRI of 85 (considered excellent) although cheap tubes may not do this well. Incandescent lamps score still better with a CRI of 100, but this is by definition: the CRI is less meaningful for color temperatures below 5000K (most incandescent lighting is considerably warmer than that: in the 3500K range)

If all of this seems a little mind boggling, it is for good reason. Color science is complicated stuff. Does the average artist need to know all of this? Perhaps not, but as it is with pigments, the better we understand the factors that affect our color perception, the better job we can do of exerting conscious control over the color in our work. Control is about choices, and conscious choice in the production of art is always a good thing.

Artistic wiping

2009-10-07T20:59:00.003-06:00

I was wiping a trial proof of a deeply etched plate the other day and got to thinking about the art of wiping. Much of the process of wiping is mechanical, so my mind often has time to wander. In this particular case, I was contemplating the difference between an 'artistic' wipe and a clean one.

Historically some printmakers (Whistler comes to mind) made extensive use of the wipe to further the artistic content of the image. They might polish some areas fully clean and leave films of plate tone (or more than plate tone) in others, all in service to the image. This is difficult to impossible to do completely consistently, so there would be some variation of the images within the edition. But the images were beautiful.

Other practitioners believe that if it isn't in the plate, then it isn't in the image and strive for a perfectly clean and consistent wipe. This was certainly the starting point at least when I was in school, and it is a position espoused by many professional printers.

As an artist/printer I have a good deal of flexibility in this area. For most images I strive for a clean wipe. If I want a mark, I put it there. If I want tone, then I aquatint, spit bite or out comes the roulette. But there have been times in my relief work where I have gotten a little creative about how I roll and what I remove. There really isn't anything that keeps me from doing the same with an intaglio plate, other than that notion of consistency. The question for me keeps coming back to the image. What works? What am I happy with?

I guess that the important thing for me is that any variation that shows up in the wipe be intentional. In my mind 'artistic license' is no substitute for poor technique.

The remaining question then is one of terminology. When does a print stop being an artistically wiped part of an edition and when does it become a monoprint? Only the artist knows for sure, but it is important to be clear with a collector.

Ink and Color

2009-10-05T21:15:00.004-06:00

I read an interesting article today about color. Specifically about color and paint, but it can easily be extrapolated to ink. It was written by Sarah Sands at Golden Artist Colors and appears in the new issue of Just Paint, a newsletter produced by the staff at Golden.
I would recommend it to any artist, but I wanted to summarize a few of the major points here, with some observations of my own that may be particularly relevant to the topic in relation to printmaking.

While we tend to think of ink as having an intrinsic color, it is important to remember that it is actually a volume of pigment particles suspended in a medium (plate oil or perhaps an acrylic emulsion). The size, shape and quantity of these particles determine some of the secondary color properties that have a significant impact on the performance of an ink. These secondary color properties include:

Mass tone - Mass tone is the dominant color we see when the there is a thick layer of the ink present.
Undertone - Undertone colors emerge when the layer of ink is thin, the pigment load goes down (as when mixed with a large volume of transparent base) or it mixed with white.
Transparency - You can think of transparency (or opacity, which is its opposite) as the degree of hiding power that an ink possesses. But it is more than this as it also determines the luminosity of a color.
Tinting Strength - This characteristic affects how an ink behaves in a mixture. Does it take a little or a lot to move the color of a mixture?

Besides the intrinsic characteristics, there are other factors that impact the perceived color (and perception is the only thing that matters).
These include pigment load (which may be altered as we modify the body characteristics of the ink), film thickness (partially a function of process - lithography tends to deposit a thinner layer than relief, partially a function of tack - tackier inks tend to lay down a thicker layer) and sheen (affected by the absorbency of the paper or the stacking of ink layers).

For most artists (myself included) the process of mixing and choosing colors tends to be quite intuitive. Yet it is clear, that like most of our processes a better understanding of the physical processes involved will give us a firmer control of the medium. This is not to suggest that we will have complete control, there are too many variables at work for that to occur. But we may find that we have fewer frustrating days.

Juggling

2009-09-14T21:24:00.003-06:00

I have been trying to concentrate on improving my productivity in the studio of late. Part of the problem is that there are so many other things that demand my attention. Work on the studio itself, business related issues, submissions, Jack the studio dog... It is hard not to succumb to the 'tyranny of the urgent'.

Jack the studio dog hard at work

I want to produce more work, but I also want to make sure that the quality of the work does not suffer (artistically or technically). I am taking a couple of different steps to help achieve this.

Produce more smaller work
While I love the big prints that have become something of a signature for me, they take a long time to produce the plates and to print. There is also the fact that not everyone has the wall space for some of these. Smaller works go faster, are more accessible for most peoples houses and the allow me to quickly examine an image that I may want to go larger with later.

Push things to completion
I have a tendency to dawdle once I have the basics of an image in place and have pulled the trial proofs. I am trying to force myself to push on and complete the edition as soon a possible, rather than letting it linger.

Get more things going at once
This has been the big one. I have always had a couple of works in progress at one time, but I have been really pushing myself to up the numbers. For example, I currently have three images actively in process right now (A woodcut ready to be editioned, an engraving and an etching). I also have at least 4 more images in various stages of preparation, a couple of which are ready to go.

Only time will tell whether this strategy will pay dividends. But I need to keep at it. For me it is the mark of being a professional.

It is all in the details

2009-09-10T21:16:00.002-06:00

I spent the morning printing the second color on a lithograph. As I was working, I was struck by how much you have to be paying attention to the subtle details to get things to print consistently and well.

The first thing that I noticed was that I was rolling too fast. Color ink is always all over the place in terms of consistency. This particular batch was pretty tacky, so I had added some mag to cut the tack and stiffen it up. As I rolled at my usual brisk pace, I noticed that the image was not accepting ink quite as well as I would like. It was taking a lot of passes and not being real consistent as to how many. I could have tweaked the ink again (I may have over done it a bit with the mag, but I tend to like a little stiffer ink), but I found that by slowing the roll down (both on the slab and on the stone) it gave the ink just a little longer to make the connection. I discovered that I could hear the image take the ink. First pass, no sound. Second pass, a faint whisper. Third pass, a little stronger 'sizzle' and so on. Just with that change, the image began to roll up well and consistently.

After a couple of impressions, I noticed that the registration mark on the trailing end of the stone was very slightly off. With T-bar registration, there is always a tiny bit of variation as there is not a precise mechanical positioning of the paper. In this case, however, things were just a tiny bit off in a consistent fashion. Adjusting were I placed the tail edge of the paper relative to the mark solved the problem and everything printed more consistently. The adjustment was about the width of the pencil mark. Small, but noticeable.

It is the same with every process. Careful observation and attention to the little details are the keys to a consistent edition.

Paper Prep

2009-08-25T21:47:00.002-06:00

I spent part of the day today preparing paper for printing a new lithograph. This is a multi-stone image so registration concerns play a large part in the process.

I am going to be printing on 280 gsm Rives BFK, so after counting out the correct number of sheets, I began to tear them to size. This paper in the 22x30 size has three deckle edges and one torn edge. I was tearing to 15x22, so I was able to measure off of the torn edge, which helps with consistency. I had the paper face down (the watermark reads correctly from the face), made 2 tiny pencil marks at the edges and then lined up a stainless steel straightedge with the marks. Holding the straightedge down firmly I start by pulling up on the far edge of the paper and tear about 1/3 of the way across. I then switch to the near edge and pull up starting a tear that moves away from me for 1/4 to 1/3 the distance. I then go back to the far edge and resume the first tear until the two meet.

Since I was tearing this paper dry, this elaborate approach wasn't strictly necessary, but I frequently tear the paper while it is damp (you get a nicer deckle look that way). I find that using this approach allows me to avoid having a 'paper failure' at the near edge where you end up with that little triangle where it does not follow the straightedge.

I tear the sheets one at a time, marking each one individually. After the tear I stack the two pieces, making sure that they have the same orientation that they did in the original sheet (eg face down).

After all of the sheets were torn, I took them in groups of 10 or so jogged them together and fanned them slightly. I then marked them for my t-bar registration. A small pencil line on the back in the center of the leading edge (as it will go into the press) with a small crossing line to keep track of which edge is which. A second small pencil line in the center of the opposite edge. These marks will align with registration marks scribed into the stones.

Since this image will require fairly tight registration, I decided to calender the paper before printing to help control stretch. The first time the paper goes through the press, it has a tendency to stretch to some degree. This happens more on damp paper than dry. It actually stretches some each time through the press, but the majority of the movement happens the first time. If you are printing on it on this first trip, then the image is also stretched. Subsequent stones will not be stretched and you will have misregistrations. You can spot this if you find that things are in register at the leading edge but gradually go off as you move across the image.
Calendering is basically running the paper through the press like you were printing it, but without actually printing it. I put the aluminum backer plate on the press, draw registration marks on it with a hard pencil, and then proceed as if there were a plate there. I align a sheet of paper with the marks, cover it with a newsprint slip sheet, cover that with a tympan and then roll the bed into the press, lower the scraper bar (medium pressure) and crank it through.

I also cut and mark about 6 sheets of newsprint to use as trial proofs to get the image rolled up properly and verify registration.

After all this is done, I stack the paper and weight it down with an intaglio plate. With that bit of mise en place finished, I am ready to start printing tomorrow.

Starting something new

2009-08-20T19:45:00.004-06:00

I was back in the studio today after a short break for travel to the San Francisco Bay area (where, by the way, I visited the Crown Point Press gallery). Just before I left I completed a couple of editions, so today was the start of something new.

In many ways, days like today are very energizing. I spent some time looking through images (which I had reviewed mentally while traveling) and pulled a couple forward for new work. This is the point where I am experimenting with composition and thinking about process. As I have discussed in the past, I try to drive my process decisions based on the kinds of marks I want to make. In thinking about these things, I am also deciding about the scale of the print-to-be and starting to give some consideration to color choices.

Most days I am multi-tasking to some degree and today was no exception. I started to make some serious progress on a new lithograph, but lithography is a process where you work and wait, work and wait. I got the first of two stones etched, rolled up and second etched. I also grained the second stone and got the basics of the image down. Interspersed with all that was computer work on images. I don't know how many I am going to start yet... time will tell.

The Dynamics of Wiping

2009-08-11T08:42:00.003-06:00

I was working on printing an edition yesterday and I had plenty of time to think about how the ink, plate and tarlatan (or your hand) interact during the process.

When you first start to wipe after applying the ink (I use a silicon spatula for that) you are mostly using physical means to remove the ink. I like to think of the tarlatan as 'slicing' the ink off of the plate. I am using a small swirling motion driven from the wrist. It is a little like scrubbing, but with very little pressure. The tarlatan is formed into a ball with a single smooth layer pulled over the bottom where it contacts the plate. I like to use a piece about the size of a baseball, although many people like a larger ball. As the ink is sliced off, the weave of the tarlatan will start to get plugged. When this happens, the dynamic changes and the ink starts to smear around instead of being removed quickly. Time to refold to bring a fresh area to bear. If you continue without refolding, you will find yourself pressing harder and harder and getting less and less ink off. Pressure is your enemy when wiping as it causes the tarlatan to dip down into the image areas an pull more ink on to the surface, making things worse.

You fairly quickly get to the point where there is a thin film of ink left. At this point the dynamic changes. It seems that the ink to ink affinity becomes the driving factor. Though it seems counter intuitive, reducing the pressure and moving more quickly makes the wiping more effective. As the tarlatan glides by, the ink on the plate sticks to the ink on the tarlatan and it rips off of the plate. If the ink on the tarlatan is too thick, the opposite happens and the ink film tears, putting down as much as you pick up. When this happens, refold. If your wipe is gentle enough, you do not have to worry about pulling ink up out of the image. (Unless of course, there is something wrong with your ink consistency).

When the plate is getting pretty clean with some smearing out from the darker areas, I switch to my hand. At this point the motion changes: I lock the wrist and the motion is from the elbow. Gently, quickly wipe. Just caress the plate. I wipe in toward the image, drawing the ink in rather than pulling it out. Sometimes I draw towards my body using the heel of my hand. Other times I use the pad at the base of my thumb and push away. Again, the interaction is chemical. The ink wants to stick to your hand more than it does to other ink or the plate. Wipe the edges of the plate with a rag and wipe your hand periodically.

Your touch gets lighter and lighter. Change the plate direction to keep yourself wiping in towards the image or parallel to an edge in the image. Those little wisps of ink will disappear.

Sometimes you may get some 'lumps' that resist wiping. I think that these are areas that get burnished by the friction of the wipe. I seem to get them when I have left too much ink on when I started hand wiping. A touch with the tarlatan should make them go away.

Like any skill, you only get better with practice, practice and more practice. Observing carefully as you go can only help.

Dimensional Stability

2009-08-02T21:39:00.002-06:00

I was reminded the other day of the challenges presented by working with paper. Frankly, it was a reminder I would have lived without, but I guess it was good for me. The fundamental problem is this: paper changes size.

Painters have the same problem to an extent. The cotton or linen substrate that they paint on absorbs moisture from the air (or gives it back to the air) and expands or contracts accordingly. Thus their canvas gets loose in the middle or stretches too tight and distorts the stretchers.

Paper is particularly fond of changing dimensions in the presence of changing levels of moisture. Try this experiment. Take 10 sheets of paper out of your computers printer. Put 5 of them, side by side across a table. Take the other 5, wet them (just dip them in a tray of water) and place them side by side immediately below the other 5. The wet papers should be 1/4" to 3/8" wider! Some papers expand more than others and some expand more in one direction than another.

As printmakers, we are constantly messing with wetting and drying our papers. Each time we do so, they change their sizes, not necessarily consistently. On top of that, we DO things to them. We smash them, form them, pull them: generally abuse them. Which of course makes them stretch, not always evenly.

All of this needs to be taken into account when printing a multi-color edition. The larger you work, the more you need to be aware of it as expansion is often a percentage of the dimensions and 10% of 50 inches is a lot more than 10% of 6 inches.

So, the problem I had was in printing a woodcut. I was working on the third color and I found that the paper was being pulled about 1/8" off over the 35 inch length of the print. It was doing it consistently. After a lot of thought, I realized that the paper was being formed down onto the cut areas of the plate and, since this was happening mostly on one side of the plate, was pulling the paper toward it and stretching it. Of course this will also mess up subsequent layers as the stretching is more or less permanent so the image has moved relative to my registration points.

The solution to the problem will involve eliminating the forming by going to a harder tympan which will apply the printing pressure over a narrower range. It will mean that the printing pressure has to be more precise, but that is ok. The existing proofs are spoiled.

Like everything else in printmaking, you have to be aware of your materials and processes and how they work. Without that knowledge, the material is in control and you cannot get a consistent edition. Sometimes it takes a problem to remind me of that.

Carborundum Print

2009-07-30T21:56:00.010-06:00

A couple of months ago, I wrote about some experimentation I had done with collagraphic media. Subsequently, I used the technique in a print that I have not editioned yet, and I am just finishing the editioning of a new work executed completely as a carborundum print.

The process is relatively straight forward. I used Golden Heavy Acrylic Gel Medium and mixed some 100 grit Carborundum powder (silicon carbide) with it. I then used a brush to paint the material on a 1/8" acrylic plate (Plexiglas). The edges of the plate were beveled with a file and polished before painting on the grit. I manipulated the amount of grit that I mixed in and also used some acrylic glazing medium to alter the viscosity and flow characteristics at times during the process.

The print uses four colors, each color isolated on its own plate. Since the plates are clear, it is relatively easy to get the image registered on the plates.

Once the medium has dried overnight, the plate is inked, wiped and printed like most any intaglio plate. In this case, much of the ink is captured around the grains of abrasive, so the character of the mark resembles a drypoint and the same care must be taken to ensure that the plate is not over wiped. Because the medium is built up on the surface of the plate, the paper is heavily embossed, which adds to the character of the print.

The plate before inking

In this photo, you can see the carborundum grit on the surface of the plate. The grit is dark grey, so it shows clearly, however the gel that holds it is clear, so it does not show well in the photo.

The plate inked, wiped and ready to print

Here is the same plate after inking and wiping. The grit holds a tremendous amount of ink yielding a velvety solid and the brushmarks in the gel catch ink and wipe clean on the ridges, leaving some truly lovely marks.

I inked and wiped each plate and then I printed all four plates in succession, wet in wet. I stopped the press short leaving the paper was trapped under the blankets after printing the first plate. I then switched out the plate and reversed the press direction, again stopping before the paper was released to change plates. The plate position was marked on a piece of mylar taped to the bed of the press, so each plate can be positioned exactly.

Three colors down with the last plate in position

Printing wet in wet like this causes quite a bit of ink to offset from the print back onto subsequent plates, but this doesn't bother the image. The more transparent inks blend and merge, making it difficult to determine the print order in the final proof. You do have to clean the plates (other than the first) before inking for the next proof.
When printing wet in wet, you also need to consider the ink consistency of each layer if the image areas overlap. The degree to which the subsequent layers trap is dependent on the relative amount of tack in the two layers. This is the same concern that you need to watch in viscosity printing. In this case I started with stiffer, tackier ink on the first plate and loosened the ink in subsequent layers to ensure that everything trapped properly.

The carborundum grit is murder on your tarlatan as you wipe. It makes sense, as you are essentially wiping sandpaper. I have to refold the tarlatan several times for each plate, as it quickly gets shredded. It also leaves lots of little inky fabric crumbs behind. These come off fairly easily in the final hand wiping, but you need to look at the plate carefully (especially in the non-image areas) to make sure that they are all wiped away. I ruined a couple of proofs this way before I learned my lesson!

Exit 9
Carborundum Print
11 1/4" x 23"
2009
Copyright 2009, Dean Russell Thompson

Non-toxic printmaking

2009-07-22T21:20:00.005-06:00

Green is the thing these days. Many artists are concerned with the toxicity of their materials. With good reason. In years past, many artists poisoned themselves with lead, cadmium, dust or solvents. The manipulation of plates and stones has the potential to expose printmakers to more than their fair share of nasty stuff.

As a result, many printmakers are switching to 'green' materials and processes. Sometimes the results, despite the claims of manufacturers, do not match up will to more traditional materials. And sometimes, unless we are careful, 'green' can lead us astray.

I was at the local home improvement mega-store the other day and was looking over a new line of 'organic' solvents (this is something of a misnomer, since from a chemical perspective, any hydrocarbon based solvent is 'organic', as in organic chemistry). This particular line include gum turpentine, pointing out it was derived from natural sources (a distillation product of wood). Unfortunately, turps is one of the more toxic solvents available to us, despite its 'natural' origins. I did try out a couple of other alternative solvents. The first was a water & mineral spirits emulsion. I tried a quart and used it for general ink cleanup. I was not terribly impressed. I didn't think it worked as well as a good, high quality (low volatility) odorless mineral spirits. But it sure was a lot more expensive. I also tried an alternative solvent that was billed as an replacement for acetone in many applications. Again, it did not seem to work as well, and I turned out to be sensitive to it. I found it very irritating.

I will continue to use oil based inks and traditional solvents because of their performance. I do take precautions with them, however. I wear gloves when I am cleaning with solvents (many organic solvents can be absorbed through the skin). I am fortunate to work in a large space that is pretty well ventilated, so my air exposure is minimized. I plan to install additional localized ventilation as well.

One place where I have taken steps to control toxicity is in my etching process. When setting up the studio, I was worried both about the toxicity of the mordants, and the issues of hazardous waste disposal (exhausted acids or other etchants are full of metal and should not be disposed of down the drain) My approach here is to use a galvanic etching process as described by Cedric Green. In this case, I wouldn't say it works better or worse than acids, it just works differently. I would not say that I feel like I have complete control of this process yet, but I am producing images. The biggest advantage is that it does not produce any waste. I am sold: time and experience should give me the control I want.

I still have some acids in the studio (nitric, phosphoric, citric, acetic) but they are used for lithography, a few drops at a time. Handled with care, they do not pose a significant health risk.

Mise en place

2009-07-02T14:19:00.008-06:00

Mise en place is a concept from the culinary industry. It refers to the process of preparing all of the tools and ingredients for a dish before beginning to cook. The vegetables have been portioned and chopped; the meat is cleaned and proportioned; the spices gathered; the pots and utensils gathered. In short, everything is ready and in easy reach so that when the actual cooking begins, there is no need to run around.

When editioning, a little mise en place can really make life easier and the results more consistent. When prepping an itaglio plate for editioning, I start by going carefully over the bevels on the edge of the plate. I make sure that they are all beveled evenly and carefully polished. Any scratches will catch ink and require you to take additional time to get it properly wiped clean. Too easy to miss a spot. The higher the polish, the easier it is to get a consistently clean bevel.

The next thing is the paper. I cut (or tear) it to size a day in advance, making sure that the individual pieces are evenly sized. Then I dip each piece in a tray of water, let it drain and stack them together in the center of a sheet of plastic. I then wrap it up (making sure that any watermarks are oriented consistently) and place it under some weight for the night. That little package of paper will be consistently damp: one less thing to worry about.

A paper pack, ready for editioning

My next preparation step is any registration system. For a single color intaglio print, I use a fairly simple system. The idea is to position the plate and the paper quickly and consistently but without a lot of fuss as it doesn't have stringent requirements. I start by taking a piece of Mylar and using a find point Sharpie, marking the outlines of the plate (on what will be the back side). Then, based on the margin sizes that I determined when I cut the paper I make two registration lines (at right angles). These will represent the edges of the paper. I then turn it over and tape it down to the bed of the press. Putting the lines on the back side allows you to easily clean the Mylar during the printing without worrying about disturbing the lines.

For this kind of print, I make three small tape stops. Take a small piece of masking tape (about an inch long) and double it over on itself in the middle for about a quarter of an inch. Stick it down to the Mylar with the seam in the tape right on one of the registration lines. The result is a little flexible flap of tape, just enough to catch the edge of the paper. Put two of these on the registration lines for one edge and one on the other edge.

The final step is to cut a piece of mat board in an L shape, with the width of the legs equal to the margin of the paper.

I mix my ink, get my tarlatan and rags handy and start to print. After I ink and wipe the plate I position it by taking the piece of mat board and pushing it gently against the two tape stops on one edge and sliding it gently over against the third tape stop on the other edge.

The mat board positioned against the tape stops

I then take the inked plate and position in gently against the mat board.

Then, very carefully lift out the mat board without disturbing the position of the plate (you can clearly see the registration lines in this picture)

Finally, remove a sheet of paper from the damp pack, make sure that there is no surface moisture on it (blot it briefly if there is) and position the paper using the same tape tabs used to position the mat board. Then run it through the press.

It may seem picky, but this kind of careful preparation can make editioning a much more pleasurable experience. And a more consistent one.

More on wiping intaglio

2009-05-15T20:34:00.004-06:00

Back in January I talked a bit about hand wiping intaglio plates. I have continued to use this approach and, like most things you practice, have gotten better at it. I was pulling a proof of a new engraving on acrylic in the studio today. The first photo shows the plate after it was wiped with the tarlatan. The objective here is to quickly remove the bulk of the ink. You make a ball with the tarlatan with the bottom pulled tight to make a smooth surface. Then you scuff at the surface with a gentle swirling motion. Most of the motion is in the wrist. I think of it as using the tarlatan to slice the ink off of the surface rather than wiping. If the weave on the tarlatan gets clogged with ink, refold the pad. I try not to wipe too far (as you can see there is still some ink on the surface). The marks on the plate are very full of ink, but the bulk of it is gone.
When I switch to the hand wipe, the motion changes. I use the fleshy pad on the heel of my palm and quickly and gently stroke the surface. The wrist is locked and the motion comes from the elbow. Take a couple of strokes and then wipe your hand on a cloth. If you get too much ink built up on your hand the ink tends to smear instead of coming off. As you pull the ink off the surface, watch for smears that indicate that you are pulling ink out of the marks. When this happens, I lighten the touch and turn the plate so that I am pushing the smears back towards the mark. I also use the ball of my palm at the base of the thumb, pushing away from me instead of pulling for delicate areas that need additional attention. A feather light touch is the key.
When things look pretty well cleaned up, I carefully wipe the edges of the plate with the rag (a rag works much better than a paper towel when doing this). If there are a few stray marks or a little too much plate tone, I put some baby powder (the talc kind, not cornstarch) on a flat surface and dip the heel of my hand into it. I then wipe it against my apron so that there is nearly none left. A couple more passes will pick up that tone. You are not wiping the plate with talc, you are using talc to dry your hand.

Here is the plate after the hand wipe. Acrylic wipes beautifully. The total time from from the first photo to the second for this small plate is about 1-2 minutes.

Records

2009-05-11T21:39:00.002-06:00

Of all of the aspects of printmaking, keeping adequate records has to be one of the most trying. Yet, it is also one of the most important.

Any process engineer will tell you that you cannot make a process repeatable and controllable without recording accurately what you are doing. It is hard to match ink colors without a swatch and a list of the inks that went into it. It is hard to get a good etch on a lithographic plate unless you can look back to see how similar plates were etched in the past.

The sizes that things are printed from the computer, file names, dates, etch times, voltages, currents, ink modifications - they are all variables that need to be recorded. In addition, in most states when you sell a print you need to provide a certificate of authenticity that details thing such as when the print was made, how many plates, the status of the plates, how many proofs were made, etc.

Records can be as simple as keeping a notebook, or as complicated as a computer database application. The key is to start. I am still refining my system, and the data is not as complete as I would like it to be, but I am getting there.

Collagraph experiments

2009-05-05T21:32:00.009-06:00

I am always on the hunt for new ways to make marks. Over the last few days I have been playing around with the use of acrylic gel mediums and carborundum (silicon carbide) grit as collagraphic media. The basic idea here is that the surface of the plate is built up with layers of texture. The resulting plate is then inked and wiped as an intaglio plate would be. The built up surface behaves in a fashion similar to the raised burr in a drypoint, catching the ink behind the texture and resisting its removal.

My initial experiments involved using Golden Extra Heavy Gel Medium and Golden Heavy Gel Medium. For a plate I used a piece of clear acrylic sheet (Plexiglas) with the edges appropriately beveled. The gel was allowed to dry overnight. The plate was printed with Daniel Smith #99 Intense Black on Rives BFK using sizing catcher/ former / pusher blanket system.

In this image, the top row is done with Extra Heavy Gel. The two marks on the left were made by brushing and dabbing the gel on to the plate. The next mark to the right was made by mixing some 100 grit carborundum with the gel and brushing it on to the plate. The last (rightmost) mark was made by dabbing the gel onto the plate and then sprinkling the carborundum into the wet gel. The bottom row uses the same approach using the thinner Heavy Gel.

Here are a couple of detail shots of the plate. The first one shows the Extra Heavy Gel by itself and with the grit mixed in.

This one shows the Heavy gel by itself and with the grit mixed in.

I was very happy with how the gel stood up to the wiping and the pressure of printing. The paper was very deeply embossed and in the deep areas the ink had a wonderful texture. There was some tendency to loose grit on the first couple of impressions, but it did not seem to affect the quality of the image much.

The results show some very interesting marks. Now to think about how to work these into an image!

Some great reading

2009-05-03T21:28:00.002-06:00

I have been rereading two of my favorite novels over the last couple of days. I love these books for their look at art, being true to your art and the struggles of a religious person to make art that is meaningful beyond their religious community. They are:

My Name is Asher Lev
The Gift of Asher Lev

The author is Chiam Potok.

While I do not agree with all of the positions that are taken on the sources and importance of art, I do find them thought provoking. I do think that an artist needs to be engaged in a continuing discussion with themselves about their work and how they feel about it. This kind of self examination is, in my mind, what makes the difference in the quality and consistency of the work. Not that it is a guarantee, but I am pretty sure that without it, comes a slide into cliche.

What is there and what isn't

2009-04-24T19:05:00.004-06:00

I enjoy talking to people about my work and hearing their reactions to it. Most people will respond that they like the color choices. Or they like the shapes. Or that they have seen something just like the structure in the print. Most of the time, unless you are playing the 'fly on the wall' at a showing, you won't hear that they don't like it. It is not that everyone likes my work, they just are too polite to say it to my face.

Every now an then I will have someone provide an 'explanation' of my work that seems, to me, to come from left field. They see my work as a celebration of industry (I don't see it that way) or the choice of colors in a particular print having a deep meaning (that isn't my intent), or they describe my work as hyper-realistic (I think of it as an abstraction).

While I am sometimes puzzled by these reactions, I take them as a positive sign. It says to me that there is something in the work that 'speaks' to people. Something stirs in themselves and they go looking for a reason. It makes them think. Those are the pieces that people stop and look at rather than just walking by.

That makes me happy. I take it as a sign of a job well done.

Hazzards of the job

2009-04-22T18:56:00.003-06:00

I was reminded today of the potential hazzards of my choice of subject matter in these days of homeland security. I spent the day scouting around for interesting structures and taking photos that I could potentially use for raw material later.

One of the photos is at left. Shortly after I took this shot I discovered that the security people at the facility in question had noticed me and came over to object. I was informed that this wasn't allowed and that they would have to confiscate the film. (This would have proved to be problematic as this was a digital camera). I stayed nice and cooperative and shortly the person's supervisor appeared. I shook his hand and introduced myself and then I handed him my business card and a postcard for my upcoming show (that has an image of one of my pieces on it). I explained that I was an artist looking for source material. This seemed to satisfy him and he told me to make sure that I stayed on public property away from the fence and there would not be a problem. I thanked him and went on my way.

Everyone stayed polite and friendly and this worked out alright. I am mindful, however, that things could have turned out differently. Lessons learned? I will always make sure that I have a business card and a sample of my work with me. It is clearly important to stay polite and friendly. And cooperative. If they had asked me to delete the pictures I would have.

Packed and Ready

2009-04-21T18:46:00.002-06:00

Getting ready for a show is a lot of work. I am a part of a three person show at the Finer Things Gallery in Nashville starting this weekend. Four of my large woodcuts were selected, so after framing, they needed to be crated up so that they could make the trip safely.

I really don't want to think about how much effort went into this. Like most things, you do not really figure out the best way to do it until you are done. I guess I will be ready for the next time.

The really amazing thing is that after crating they still fit in my vehicle.

Making a Save

2009-04-07T22:03:00.002-06:00

One of the thinks that I love about prints is the malleability of the medium. When you are working on an image, you can change it in so many ways... you can add or remove plates, you can rework plates (some processes adapt to this more readily than others), you can change colors, you can change print order, etc. Each of these can have enormous impact on the image.

Unlike a painting, however, once you have put ink to paper, that particular proof is difficult to change. Ordinarily, this is not a huge problem, but as the size of the work increases, when things don't go quite as you expect them to, this can get expensive.

My current work in progress has been causing some problems along that line. The first color (of three) is a very transparent light green. When I did my trial proof to look at colors, registration and the balance of the image, I printed on 40lb butcher paper. This is my normal approach, and the trial proof when fine. When I began to proof on edition paper (Rives BFK, 300 gsm) I discovered that this more absorbent surface resulted in significant roller marks in the large flat areas. A change of roller, tweaking the ink, and a lot of care yielded some improvements, but I still wasn't happy. I had four proofs that were close, but not close enough.

I could reprint with a more opaque ink, but I had already invested quite a bit of time and money in these proofs. I could over print these, but unless the registration was perfect I would get a bit of a double image, bluring the crispness of what was there. With some thought, a solution presented itself. This is a pseudo-reduction woodcut, so some areas would be hidden under subsequent layers. There were however, some large flat areas that would remain exposed. I mixed some additional ink very close in hue, value and chroma to what I had already printed, but slightly more opaque. I then marked on my plate the areas that would be exposed. I then rolled up those areas thinly with this new ink. I then took a pad of tarlatan (a stiffly starched cheesecloth like fabric used to wipe intaglio plates and make ballet tutus), rubbed it over my ink slab to get it inky and lightly buffed and patted the inked areas of the plate. This smeared the ink and provided a bit of texture. I then took a clean rag and very carefully wiped the ink away from any of the cut areas of the plate. I then overprinted the existing proof.

The result is a very subtle texture in the flat (the inks, as well as having different opacity are not a perfect match) That texture obscures the roller marks in the underlying layer. Since there is no ink at the edges of the cuts or in the texture of the cuts, there is no tendency to show a double image. The proofs are saved.

You could say that it looks now like I intended for this texture to be there. While it wasn't my original intent, I did make a consious decision (there is that word again) to add some. Another case of rolling with the punches that the medium throws at you. You just have to figure out how to make it work.

Framing

2009-04-04T11:25:00.002-06:00

I am currently working at getting ready for a show, so, needless to say, I am doing some framing. This is not something that you necessarily think about when deciding work as a printmaker, but it is an important part of the process. It is a funny thing, actually: a good frame job is invisible. Done properly, no one ever looks at the frame, or the mat, or the way the print is floated. All of the attention is on the print. Done poorly, however, and it attracts the eye. Gaps in the corners, a rippled mat, overcut corners, uneven margins... They all conspire to make your work look amateurish.

Framing is not really hard if you have the right tools. It does take time and a good deal of attention to details. Do it right and it is well worth the effort.

My Bookshelf, part 2

2009-03-29T21:31:00.002-06:00

Last time, I talked about books that I find inspiring. But I am a printmaker and I find processes inspiring. So here is the list of my essential reference books. These are the ones I go to when I have a problem, or when I just need to think about things in a fresh way.

The Mezzotint: History and Technique, Carol Wax
This is the bible of reductive tonal printmaking. While it focuses on the mezzotint process where a rocker is used to create a field of pits and burrs that generate a solid tone, many of the techniques can be applied to reduction of fields created by any one of a number of methods. Well written, beautiful images.

Colour Etching, Nigel Oxley
This one is a relative newcomer to my shelf. The terminology is distinctly British, but there is a lot of good information here, especially on the carborundum process.

Printmaking: History and Process, Donald Saff & Deli Sacilotto
Broad, complete and succinctly presented. Probably the single best overview of fine art printmaking processes available.

Magical Secrets about Line Etching and Engraving, Catherine Brooks
A nice discussion about etched and engraved lines. The appendix on printing by Kathan Brown has been very influential for me. The best part of this book is the look at how the various artists that have worked at Crown Point Press thought about the various processes and their images.

Magical Secrets about Aquatint, Emily York
A wonderful look at tone in intaglio processes. I have found a lot of new insights from this book, and I wouldn't say I have really absorbed all of it yet. It is constructed along the same lines as the previous Magical Secrets book and has the same appendix by Kathan Brown. This also contains the best discussion I have found of steel facing copper plates.

Tamarind Techniques for Fine Art Lithography, Marjorie Devon
This is the newest book on my bookshelf and a great resource. It replaces the previous Tamarind guide (long out of print). It is fully updated for current processes and materials. The ultimate book on lithography by the people who wrote the book on lithography (literally)

These are some of the books that inspire me... go find some that inspire you.

My bookshelf, part 1

2009-03-28T11:39:00.003-06:00

Like almost any artist, I have quite a collection of art books. Some of them are technical, focusing on techniques and materials. Some are inspirational. They are filled with photographs of work I find inspiring and / or challenging. The following books are ones I have in my studio that fall in to the latter category. Not a complete listing, but ones I find myself coming back to frequently.

Palaces in the Night: Whistler in Venice, Margret MacDonald
This is a collection of etchings and pastels. I love the delicacy of the line work and the sparse touches of color in the pastels. Like much of Whistler's work, atmosphere plays an important part, with careful manipulation of plate tone in the etchings.

The Complete Etchings of Rembrandt, Dover Press
The master of the etched line.

Impressions of New York: Prints from the New-York Historical Society, Marilyn Symmes
A wealth of etchings, drypoints and lithographs. Many of the earlier ones are commercially produced. I find the later ones are of more interest.

Vincent Van Gogh: The Drawings, Metropolitan Museum of Art
If you want to gain a greater understanding of mark making, this is a revelation. Lines, dots, squiggles, dashes pour out on the page forming one beautiful image after another.

Stretching

2009-03-20T08:09:00.004-06:00

Part of being an artist is being a businessman (or businesswoman). Part of being a businessman is effective marketing. Part of effective marketing is being on the lookout for new places to sell your work. I have been spending a lot of time thinking about that lately and have decided it is time to stretch my wings a little bit. I have made my first submission to a 'public art' opportunity.

As a printmaker, public art is not the first place I would think to look. The tendency is to think of that as the bronze in the plaza, or the kinetic sculpture in the lobby, or the mural on the side of the building. Many of these calls are for just those kind of things. But lurking there are the meeting rooms, building lobbies, library staircases and other places where a print may be perfectly appropriate. So I am leaping into this particular pool with a proposal that pairs monoprints and editioned works.

Perhaps I will be successful. Perhaps not. But you have to keep stretching.

Problems

2009-03-09T21:11:00.005-06:00

Every now an then, every artist runs into problems (or at least every artist who is looking at their work with a critical eye). They may be technical problems. They may be composition problems. They may be color problems. They may be all of these. The question is, how do we deal with them? Do we let them defeat us or do we discover a way to push through?

This is on my mind because I ran into a technical problem in the studio today. The print I was working on has a large flat area of color and I was having problems getting it to print evenly. It was just not cooperating. So I stopped, cleaned up and am giving the matter a little thought. I have several things that I believe will solve the problem: A change to a different roller, a change in ink consistency and possibly a change in rolling pattern. Time will tell. I resisted the urge to charge forward, choosing instead to do a little research, and do a little experimentation. I hope the print will be the better for it.

I have another print that just has not clicked. I have lost track of how many times I have proofed this thing. I work on it for a few days, try something new, and then put it back on the back burner, letting a little "tincture of time" work its magic. I'm getting closer, but haven't quite put it all together. I think I have been fiddling with this thing for the better part of two years now. You might think I am just stubborn, but I like the image and feel like I can get it to work.

I have a third print that I worked on for a while last year. When I did the first trial proofs I just did not like the result. In fact I hated the result. The plates are still kicking around the studio. I do not intend to go back to them, but you never know. Lightning may strike and I will get an idea. Or I may decide that they are taking up to much space and throw the stupid things out.

I have talked about the practice of art as a series of decisions. How we deal with problems is just one more decision we get to make.

What it takes

2009-03-05T20:51:00.002-07:00

I got to thinking today about what it takes to be successful as an artist. Of course, everyone defines success in their own way, but for me it implies a certain degree of recognition beyond friends and family. Perhaps beyond my own region. It also implies that the 'income' is greater than the 'outgo' (at least the art supplies outgo). So what are the attributes that are necessary to achieve this goal? I can think of several:

Developed talent - You have to have put in the time to demonstrate some skill in your art. That implies all of the things we often think about, composition, color, value. I think it also requires a level of control over the medium. For printmakers, this is about process, process, process (in that order).

Consistent production - I have heard of aspiring artists who say "I will produce some work when I get a place to show it". I have never heard of a successful artist that says that. You need to be in your 'studio' regularly, working steadily, cranking it out. Some people call it a work ethic.

Marketing savvy - I am consistently amazed at how much mental effort I put into this. What to make, where to show, how to advertise? Who are the buyers? The list seems endless. You have to be willing to sell your art, and you have to be willing to promote your brand (yourself). I don't really know why this surprises me, it is the same for every business, and art is, after all, a business.

Business skills - At a very fundamental level, this is about money. What to spend it on, how much to spend and how much to charge. If you don't spend (invest) enough, you don't get the desired result. If you spend too much, you don't make any profit. If you don't charge enough, you go broke. If you charge too much, you don't sell (or at least don't sell consistently)

Tenacity - I think you have to be a little stubborn to be a successful artist. You have to be willing to persist. In spite of lack of sales. In spite of rejection by jurors. In spite of almost everything.

Oh yes, and one other thing, you have to have a little luck. Either the kind you find or the kind you make yourself.

Finding Inspiration

2009-02-11T00:01:00.004-07:00

While every artist struggles once in a while to find inspiration, I currently have a sizable backlog of ideas. I reached this state of artistic nirvana as a result of a thought exercise that I did a little more than two years ago. I was producing work that people found engaging fairly consistently, but I found that people were reading things into the work that I didn't want to be there. Our audience always brings their own insights and perspectives to a work, but this seemed different. The responses were all over the map. Also, I was finding it difficult to explain my work to others.

I came to the conclusion that I didn't really know why I found some images interesting. So I started to think about this more carefully. What was it that was catching my eye? Geometry? Light? Color? History? After some careful consideration and watching myself watch the environment, I came to the conclusion that I was creating landscapes. Landscapes that others did not see. Unseen landscapes, if you will. That was the moment when it all crystallized. I was able to sit down and write a concise (one paragraph) artist's statement. After that, explaining my work was easy, and, having brought it to a conscious level, I knew where to look for more imagery.

So now I am always on the lookout. Periodically I go out with my camera and gather imagery. I have dozens of potential pieces on my hard drive. I have dozens more that I have in the back of my head, but for which I haven't found that 'right' view.

To keep the work fresh I am always looking, always thinking. I am constantly looking at other artists work, not to copy, but for what it may trigger in my head about how to treat an image. It helps me concentrate on that next decision. And deciding is what it is all about.

How much wood can a wood cutter cut?

2009-02-09T21:29:00.003-07:00

I am currently working on a new large scale woodcut. I spent the day today cutting the second of three plates (second in the print order, that is). I wish I could say it was peaceful. Some of these large plates are cut in cabinet grade hardwood plywood. I cut these with a variety of gouges and skew chisels. Today, however, I was working with a construction grade panel product (Oriented Strand Board or OSB). I cut this kind of material with a carbide burr in a high speed, air powered, rotary grinder. So the day passes with the grinder screaming (think a super sized dental drill) and the compressor pounding and the dust collector whirring. I hide behind safety glasses and ear protection with dust and chips flying everywhere, hunched over the plate.

Still, I find the time passes quickly, for I spend much of the time in the zone. I am thinking about how the cuts relate to the drawing. How the non-image areas are shaped (there are always some stray marks that print in these areas, and the way you make the cuts in them affects the image). I am editing the drawing at the same time, deciding what I want to remove and what I want to leave.

Despite all the commotion, it remains an intensely artistic process, one decision after another.

What's in a Name?

2009-01-26T21:36:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, coming up with a good title for a new print can be a challenge. While not every artist does it, I always make it a point to title my work. At one point I struggled to come up with titles. People who looked at my work would see machines, or buildings, or factories, or any number of other things. I slowly came to understand that I was a really a contemporary landscape artist. It was just that the landscapes that I was looking at were not the ones that most people see. After that, the titles began to come more easily.

I think a good title is one that suggests something to the viewer, and perhaps gives them a clue regarding the subject of the work, without being too explicit. A good title should raise a question in the viewer's mind, and thus cause them to look at the work a second time, more carefully. So my titles now tend to tell the viewer something about the source of the image, but perhaps a little obscurely. For example, the title of one of my large woodcuts contains the longitude and latitude of the place where I was standing when I saw the scene. Playing with Google Maps can provide some additional insight (I had someone do this on their internet connected cell phone during a show).

So a good title can help the viewer understand what it is you, as a artist, are seeing. You just don't want to give it all away. Otherwise, where is the mystery?

Wiping Intaglio

2009-01-22T21:45:00.001-07:00

I have recently begun to hand wipe my intaglio plates.

For those not familiar with the intaglio processes, in an intaglio print, the image areas are recessed below the surface of the plate. This can be done with acid (or electricity, more on that another time) for an etching or aquatint, by scratching mechanically (drypoint), or by carving yielding an engraving (see my post from 20 November, In the zone). The ink is then applied all over the plate and the excess ink is wiped off of the surface, leaving the ink in the recesses.

Up to now, I have been doing most of my wiping with tarlatan. (Tarlatan is a heavily starched, open weave material, similar to cheesecloth). I would start with a fairly dirty one, folded into a ball and begin to remove ink by wiping in a sweeping fashion. Then as the ink came off, I would switch to a somewhat cleaner one and continue to work with an increasingly light touch until the plate looked clean enough. If there was an area that I wanted to bring somewhat brighter, I would use some newsprint held flat to remove the plate tone in those areas.

Not long ago I had a chance to read a discussion of printing by Kathan Brown, founder of Crown Point Press in San Francisco. She advocates removing the initial pass of ink with a tarlatan, and then using your bare hand to wipe off the remainder of the ink. I tried it, and I am sold.

I do most of the wiping with the fleshy pad on the heel of my hand, opposite the thumb. I make a couple of light passes over the plate and then wipe my hand on a rag that I hold in the same hand as the plate. As the plate gets cleaner, the touch gets lighter. The whole process goes very quickly.

I find that there are a number of advantages to this method.

I think it goes quicker.

I get a more consistent wipe, with less tendency to over wipe.

I can use various parts of my hand, fingers, etc. to work in small areas.

I can use a finger in the rag to pull areas really bright and then soften the edges of this area with my hand so that they are less noticable

Having done several plates this way, I do not think that I would go back. I love the sensitivity and control.

Original Prints, Limited Editions and Giclées

2009-01-10T15:46:00.001-07:00

Prints, Original Prints, Limited Editions and Giclées. There is a turbulent flow of terminology at work here, and it sometimes is not used very precisely, accurately (or even ethically). Yet it is important to understand the lay of the land before you go to purchase a print or you might not be able to ask the right questions.

I am going to divide the world into two categories here: Original Prints and Reproductions.

An original print is just that, original. It is conceived and executed directly in the print medium of choice by the hand of the artist (possibly with the help of a printer). There are a number of professional print studios around the country who are engaged in the creation of original prints. Usually they specialize around one of the processes. For example, Crown Point Press in San Francisco specializes in intaglio techniques (line etch, aquatint, drypoint, engraving, etc). The Tamarind Institute in Albuquerque is strictly a lithography house. These professional studios bring in well known artists and work with them to create original works directly in the print medium. The artists draw on the stones, scratch through the resists, apply tusche, scrape at plates, select colors, etc. The printers mix ink, process plates, advise on process and print the edition, comparing each to an artist approved proof. Individual printmakers, like myself, may combine the role of artist and printer. In either case, while the result is a multiple, each is considered an original work of art. The size of the edition is typically rather restricted, with 20-50 being most common.

A reproduction is just that, it reproduces a work concieved and created in another medium. The work is photographed, digitally separated and printed, all without the direct involvement of the artist. The only problem is it may not be called a reproduction.

A Limited Edition is the most common term. Strictly that means that the total number of exact copies is limited. By itself it doesn't say how limited. Editions of 2500 are not uncommon. This is the logical equivalent of having a copy of a book signed by the author. Nice, perhaps, but not particularly unique.

A giclée (pronounced zee-clay) is simply an ink jet print. Probably printed on watercolor paper with archival inks, but there are no guarantees. These are also sometimes called iris prints after the brand of printer that was used for the earliest examples of these reproductions. The editions are usually smaller here, but this is still a printed photograph of a painting or drawing or whatever.

I won't go into variations and exceptions (for example, digital artists) since they are many. The key is this: ask questions! Is this a reproduction?

Decisions, Decisions

2009-01-08T00:29:00.000-07:00

When you get right down to it, being an artist is about seeing and about deciding. A work of art becomes interesting when it helps us see something about the world in a new way. Thus an artist must be a keen observer. They must be able to see shapes, values, colors, movement and textures. Sometimes this is in the real world, and sometimes it is only on the easel (or the plate).

An artist, when they are creating, is also making one long series of decisions. What is the subject? What will they keep? What will they remove? What will they modify? For printmakers, one of those questions is: What process should I use?

Sometimes printmakers are driven by process. "I am going to make an etching" or "I am going to make a lithograph". While it is important to be conversant with and in control of your process, this seems to me to be putting the cart in front of the horse. My first question is: "For this image, what kind of marks do I want to make?" The process to use then becomes obvious.

Each particular process brings its own, unique, set of marks. This is most easily explained by showing some examples. The image above is a close up view of some of the kinds of marks that are possible in a woodcut. The texture of the wood shows, to a greater or lesser degree. The marks are hard edged.

An engraving, like this one has its own set of marks. They are crisp, sharp, linear. They start with a point, taper to a full width and either end squarely or taper back out to a point. The nature of the mark is a function of the process used to create it. In this case, carving into the plate with a very fine burin.

A lithograph, like the example to the right is closer to the spontaneous marks that you get with a pencil or charcoal. They can be fluid and tonal. The blacks can be incredibly velvety and rich.

One of the things that I love about printmaking is the wide range of possibilities that are available to me as an artist. I love the process, but I always want that process to be the servant of my artist's hand, not the master.

Acceptance

2008-12-22T20:15:00.001-07:00

I received notice today that my print Moffet, Eastbound has been accepted into the Creative Capitol 2009 show, sponsored by the Colorado Council on the Arts and Denver International Airport. The show will be exhibited at DIA from February to May 2009, and then again at the Colorado State Capitol from June to August 2009.

Moffet, Eastbound is the largest print I have made to date. The image is 40" high and 54" wide, printed on Rives BFK paper. I pulled one state proof of this by hand, using a baren. The process took me 3 hours per color! I swore that I was never going to do that again, so when I went looking for a press, the one of the criteria was that it had to be big enough to handle this plate. My Takach 4484 Etching press handles this with a couple of inches to spare. In fact, this was the first print pulled on the press. It is an edition of 2.

Back in harness

2008-12-22T10:03:00.000-07:00

I feel like I have been slacking. Between my trip, holiday preparations, some work on the studio and spending some time with my wife during her days off, I haven't seemed to get much done. I have initiated two new prints. So far only preparatory work, but that should change in the studio today. The first one is a lithograph. Aluminum plate. I did roll up an old plate with the leather roller the other day and it appears to be printing well, so my reconditioning efforts were apparently successful. So on to new work.

Something new every day.

Travel and Echos

2008-12-03T22:25:00.000-07:00

I am taking a couple of days off from the studio for some travel. I am going to Santa Fe and Scottsdale to look at galleries. Only time will tell if it is a productive trip from a business perspective. It certainly should be from a 'creative juices' one. As always when I travel by car, I will have my camera with me. You never know when something will catch your eye.

On a somewhat different note, I had an echo of a former life a couple of days ago. I was notified that I had been granted my 5th U.S. patent. Now to show you how the wheels of progress grind, the application was written and submitted more than 5 years ago while I was still working as a research engineer. In case anyone is interested, the title of the patent is "Methods and devices for identifying related ions from chromatographic mass spectral datasets containing overlapping components".

Life as an artist is much more interesting.

Editioning

2008-11-28T20:49:00.001-07:00

I spent most of the day today printing an edition of the engraving I did earlier in the week. Editioning is an essential part of the art of printmaking. The idea is to make each print as nearly identical as possible.

The edition begins with the bon à tirer (from French for 'good to pull'). This is a proof that the artist is satisfied with. In a commercial shop the printers will then match each proof in the edition against this proof, discarding any that to not match it. The same thing essentially happens here, except that I am both the artist and the printer. The challange in this is getting the inking and wiping of each proof as consistent as possible. This is more difficult than it would seem. It is very easy to overwipe a plate, which results in a proof that is weak in places. It is also easy to wipe inconstently on the plate, leaving plate tone in places where you don't anticipate. Plate tone, or a film of ink left on the surface, can sometimes be difficult to see. The key is to be as methodical as possible. I try to take my time and inspect the plate carefully as I am wiping. I find that there are often one or two 'problem areas' on a plate that require special attention to ensure that they are wiped consistently. I keep a close eye on these but try to make sure that I don't focus on them too much and loose the 'big picture'.

I printed 25 proofs today and expect to do more the next time I am in the studio. I am shooting for an edition of 35 on this one, so I will print several more than that to ensure that I can discard any that don't measure up and still meet my target edition size.

The Artist's Life

2008-11-25T21:25:00.001-07:00

Ahh, the Artist's life...
I spent almost all day today reconditioning a leather roller that has been stored for far too long. A little over a year ago, I purchased a litho press (for printing lithographs) from another artist here in the area. It came with this roller. As I am getting ready to initiate a new litho, I needed to make sure that the roller was ready.

Now a little background is necessary here. Lithography is a touchy process. Relief and intaglio both use physical separation to define the image & non-image areas of the print. In relief, the raised part of the plate catches the ink and prints the image. In intaglio, the recessed part does. In lithography, it is all about chemistry- grease and water don't mix easily. The image is greasy and attracts ink. The non-image areas are water loving and kept wet, which repels the ink. Easy, right? Except the operative term is "don't mix easily". They will mix, which leaves you with a mess. As part of the development of the image, you need a very sensitive roller and you may ink the plate and clean it out several times. Leather rollers are best for this. The kicker is that you never really clean them. You just scrape the excess ink off and wrap them up tightly so they will not dry out for the next time. This roller had been sitting for several years.

Now in fairness, it had been prepared properly. It was smeared with mutton tallow, wrapped in plastic and then in aluminum foil, all sealed carefully. However... The tallow had oxidized and dried considerably. When I unwrapped the roller I could see that the tallow had hardened. The plastic layers were stuck to it. I thought that this thing was a goner.

I put it on a chock and started scraping away. The tallow was very thick and extremely sticky. Think about the honey that dribbles down the jar and cements it to the pantry shelf. About that consistency. Plus, as I got deeper, it was mixed with ink, so it was black and sticky. A very dirty job. The photo here is of the roller after I had gotten the worst of the hard tallow off of the surface. Eventually I did get it pretty well cleaned up and could start reconditioning it. I put some #0 (light and thin) litho varnish on the ink slab and began to roll it out. The leather was so stiff it bumped across the slab. After rolling for a while I scraped it again, pulling off more goo and working the varnish into the leather. Then I cleaned off the slab and put out some ink. More rolling, more scraping. Repeated the process. By this time things were starting to soften up, so I scraped it down well and wrapped it up in plastic. I will ink and scrape it again tomorrow. Hopefully by early next week it will be ready to go.

It is amazing to me sometimes how much of my time goes into this kind of thing. Building things for the studio, working on the web site, (www.deanrussellthompson.com) keeping the books, taking pictures of my work, submitting to shows, etc, etc, etc. When I was completing my first degree in Computer Science, someone told me that I would spend far more time writing about what I was going to do or what I had just done than actually writing code. They were right. Now, as an artist, I am in business for myself and I have to do everything. Sweep the floor, empty the trash, scrape the incredibly inky roller...

It's a tough life, but somebody has to do it.

In the zone

2008-11-20T21:03:00.001-07:00

I spent most of the day in the studio today working on a new engraving. It is just a little thing (4.25 high x 2.625 wide) but on the whole a satisfying experience. Maybe I just like pain, but I enjoy engraving. For those of you who are not printmakers, engraving is done with a tool called a burin. It has a diamond shaped cross section and it is sharpened to a wicked little point. You hold the tool with the shaft nearly parallel with the plate and then raise the handle slightly while pushing forward, carving into the plate and leaving a "V" shaped groove. And then you do it over and over and over. There have to be thousands of lines created like this in the print I did today. Seeing what you are doing can be a challenge as the lines are often very close together. Today I was working on an acrylic (Plexiglas) plate which is somewhat easier than the more traditional copper. As you go you push up a little curl of material which then has to be cut off with a sharp scraper.
All that said, I find it relaxing. You sort of get in the zone. I have music playing and your focus is on controlling that particular mark and then how and where to put the next one. Time passes and you wonder where the day went. And the lines are just beautiful.

Small Successes

2008-11-20T09:07:00.000-07:00

While my signature works tend to be large and getting larger, I also work at the opposite end of the size spectrum. I have just had a piece selected for inclusion in the 22nd Parkside National Small Print Exhibition. The selected work, Lincoln Crossing is a simple galvanic etching that served as a study for the larger color woodcut Lincoln Ave.

Busy, busy

2008-11-13T17:43:00.000-07:00

I seem to be running hard right now, but I have so many things in process that I am not getting them done! I am in the middle of editioning a large woodcut that I did some time ago. It is only two plates and I have one printed, so that should get finished soon.

I also have two other large woodcuts that have been in need of something different. I have just completed an additional plate for one of them which, hopefully, will be all it needs. With luck I will get that proofed next week. The other is further from completion. My first trial proof showed me that my initial color scheme was ill advised. So changes there, plus another plate (also completed). This is now a 5 color diptych, so 10 impressions required for each proof. I am going to trial proof this one again before I edition.

I also am spending quite a few cycles on preparing entries for several shows. An ongoing process.