The last two days of the workshop were work days. After introducing the two block reduction process on Friday (day 3), we had two full days to either continue working on a single block reduction or do second project. I spent both days working to finish my second print before the workshop ended, and I’m pretty happy with the result.
Unlike my first piece, this one is a little more representational, or at least not completely abstract. I went on a silent retreat earlier this year here one of the topics for contemplation was how our community (locally and more broadly) is interconnected. The meditation used trees as a metaphor, and how their root systems can intertwine and grow together. Thinking about the retreat and walking the labyrinth there led me to draw this, and the result is pretty close to what I had in mind.
I don’t have photos of every step along the way, but I did make some notes. I printed three passes on the print on Saturday, which translated to six opportunities to lay down color (one from each block on each pass).
I didn’t get caught in the trough of despair on this piece, but I did stall out a few times trying to figure out color layering. This is probably something you get better at with practice, so in the end I just made a choice and assumed I could make it work somehow. In retrospect I probably didn’t take full advantage of the possiblities this technique allows, specifically selective inking. I went to “full washes” of color after two passes. That is, I was inking the entire block (although not all necessarily with the same color) after the second pass. I think this worked out in the end, but I did wind up loosing the beautiful smoky gray of the stones as well as some of the sky variation by the final print.
I also didn’t take any advantage of the “leftover” material on the second block. For the first pass I carved a “channel” around the parts I wanted to ink or not, leaving behind lots of extra wood. An advantage of this process is that that extra wood can be used to “break” the rules. That is, you have what looks like a normal single block woodcut, but marks show up in areas that have already been reduced, etc. The people in class who used this most effectively were working on abstract pieces where the rule-breaking allowed them to respond to each layer in a way that wouldn’t necessarily be possible without the second block.
Overall I’m happy with how it turned out. I did another three passes on Sunday to wind up with the final image, meaning that each piece of paper went through the press 12 times. I learned a lot about registration, color layering, and reduction. I also feel like I learned a little about composition.
When the workshop was over I felt like I wanted to collapse. Five days of printing has been an incredible gift, but also very intense. I’m looking forward to practicing what I’ve learned about reduction, registration, and selective inking. I want to try working with wood some more. I’m also curious to see what it’s like to apply these lessons to linoleum, which I normally work in.
Today I finished my first reduction woodcut. I expected to be finished quickly this morning, but getting it right took the majority of my morning. I was adding some darker lines to ground the piece, and it took some experimenting to figure out where they needed to be to make me happy.
The final print looks nothing like I expected when I began the process. But then, it’s been mostly about improvisation. I wouldn’t make all the same choices if I were doing it again (the raspberry color, in particular, feels like a whimsical choice gone awry). And, I’m very pleased with the result.
This morning Karen introduced the second project and did a brief demonstration. The second project is a two-block reduction print, where the blocks form “postive” and “negative” spaces. That is, what’s carved away on one is left behind on the other. The result is that you get “woodcut edges” along your color spaces, and you have more options for reduction. It also lets you break the rule of reduction printmaking that says the first cuts you make expose the color of the paper. Because you have two blocks in play, those first cuts may actually expose color from the other block. It took me some time to figure out what I wanted to do for this project, and I’m going a little more representational for this one, but not aiming for realism.
Before the end of the day I transferred the image onto two blocks (along with registration marks), and carved “channels” around the parts of each block that will stay to aid with inking. I also cut two masks to use tomorrow morning for laying down my first passes of color.
I’m trying to keep in mind everything I learned about layering color in the last three days so I can move more decisively tomorrow and Sunday. I think finishing this is going to be a stretch, but I’m going to do my best.
I’m blogging about my experience taking Karen Kunc’s “Color Woodcut Printmaking” class at Constellation Studios.
Today was a work day in the workshop: the only demonstration to the entire class was this morning, when Karen demonstrated laying down the second pass of color on her sample print. Otherwise it was nine hours of carving and printing. Right now I’m feeling great about the class and about the work I’m doing. Towards the end of the day Jim asked me how I was feeling about the day’s work. “Well,” I replied, “I’ve made it through the trough of despair, so I’m feeling pretty good.”
I came into the day with a single drop of color down, ready to start the second. Karen suggested we aim for (at least) four passes for this project, and when the day started I thought, “OK, that means I have about two hours for each pass, and then I can start on the next project.” I failed to account for “at least”. Compared to some of the other workshop participants, my first pass contained relatively little color. I realized looking around that you can only see something if you print color over it. That is, I made some marks in the block that showed the paper color through, but only when I printed them. There were other marks I made before printing that didn’t have any color applied to them, so they were just hanging out with nothing to do until I got around to placing color there. And after the first pass this becomes even more important: if I wanted the yellow or green I printed yesterday to show up in the final print, I had to either carve away before I printed over it, or, well, not print over it.
And that leads to the second thing I realized today: flat color is flat. It doesn’t have any energy or movement unless it’s vibrating up against something, or has something layered over it. Working with linocut, I think of color as something that you apply after you’ve made your marks and created the image. With reduction, color is the mark that helps create the image.
So I did some more carving and printed my second pass.
This is the first point where I felt like there was something in the print to respond to: the star-like shape in the middle, revealed as negative space. So I made another mask and printed over that.
But after my third pass I was in the trough of despair: that third pass didn’t do much for me, it was just flat color. And I felt a little stuck trying to figure out just what the fuck I was trying to carve (express).
Three passes in and the piece felt pretty flat and lifeless. I asked Karen for advice, and she pointed out there were large swaths that hadn’t been carved yet; they only had that flat color (which is flat). “Sometimes I get to the point where the only thing to do is attack the wood,” she said. So I did.
I started carving more aggressively and deviating from my original idea more. I started responding to what was already there instead of trying to hold quite so much control. By the end of the day I printed my fifth pass and am ready to print my sixth tomorrow morning. That may be the last, or maybe not. We’ll see.
Miscellaneous notes from the day:
It’s really important to work lightest to darkest; having a palette that’s “mine” would make it easier to understand what that sequence might be.
I’m batting about 0.500 for perfect registration. The system Karen uses seems pretty reliable; the prints where I haven’t had perfect registration are ones where the registration marks are either half there or obviously inaccurate.
Getting perfect registration on a reduction looks pretty amazing.
Cohesion is important in abstract pieces; at one point Karen pointed out that I hadn’t continued the “cheese grater” marks after the first pass, so they sort of stood out on their own. That’s something I was able to fix.
A friend suggested I take notes and write them up after each day of class to make sure things stick. Also, she wanted to know what I learned. This is my write up from the first day of Color Woodcut Printmaking with Karen Kunc.
I started my day off with some journaling and reflection, as well as sustenance. I had done a little research on the coffee scene in Lincoln, and Cultiva had caught my eye. I drove there expecting a great cup of coffee and a crepe (since that’s what Yelp recommended), but when I saw Johnnycakes on the menu, I knew how I was starting my day. At this point I was still feeling pretty apprehensive about class. My friend Pat identified that feeling as the “who do you think you are?” feeling. So I wrote it down, and tried to set it aside.
When I got to Constellation Studios the place was already buzzing and the rain was starting to gently fall. Karen welcomed us and had us introduce ourselves. The class is about ten people, and pretty varied in age, background, and interest; from a retired pulmonologist who began printing as a way to explore his photography to a woman about to retire who hasn’t printed since her undergraduate work. A couple of people had taken classes with Karen before — repeat offenders are always a good sign — and most of us signed up at least in part because we’ve admired her work from afar for a while.
We spent most of the morning listening to a lecture and demonstrations from Karen. This was fascinating, and I have a list of artists to research and explore:
After the lecture Karen introduced us to our projects and started demonstrating the first one. Going into the class I wasn’t sure what to expect, whether it’d be multiplate color, reduction, or something entirely different. I expected multiplate, because I couldn’t figure out how she got the effects she did otherwise. Turns out it’s reduction, but not “normal” reduction. Karen uses a combination of reduction and masking (she calls them stencils) to exponentially expand the ways the color combines. Throughout the class we’re going to be doing two projects: one single block reduction, and one two block reduction, the latter exploring positive and negative in addition to everything else going on.
The prints we’re making in this workshop are “bleed prints”, meaning that the ink and image runs off the edge of the paper. To accomplish this, the blocks we’re using as 12″ x 16″, and the paper is torn down to about 11″ x 15″.
The general process is something like:
Draw the paper and the image on the block; include at least one registration mark along each side, and mark two of them with a cross bar to prevent paper rotation.
Apply a thin layer of shellac to the block and allow to dry.
Lightly sand with very fine sand paper.
Carve things into the block you want to remain the underlying color (either the paper or the color you just printed)
Create a mask for inking
Ink and print
Repeat 4 through 6 until complete.
The blocks we’re using are 1/4″ birch veneer plywood; when asked “why not shina?” Karen replied, because “it keeps the perfectionistic instinct in check.”
I went to lunch with a classmate at The Hub and came back for the first inking demonstration and to get to work. I also got the thunderstorm I was hoping for.
Just like the reduction technique, Karen’s guidelines on inking bear little resemblance to my past work. She lays down very thin layers of very transparent color (in this respect I thought of Jenny Robinson’s approach to monotype), and doesn’t thin the inks using burnt plate oil, preferring ink modifier (tack reducer) to make them workable. I asked about thinning with burnt plate oil and she said she doesn’t recommend it because the oil can separate from the ink and blossom into an oily ring around the color. I haven’t seen that happen in the past, but that may be because of the type of ink I was using (etching ink vs lithography ink) or the type of paper I’ve been printing on (cotton vs. kuzo).
After the inking demonstration she set us loose to begin work on our print. I still don’t have enough experience with this technique to be able to predict the results so I decided to stick with something abstract. I began with an origami crease pattern from a piece by Rob Snyder and modified it, stretching it to fit the block and mutating some of the lines. In the end my block looked something like this.
I made some marks on the block — things that would be white — and then cut my first template. One of the things Karen suggested for carving is to keep the wood you want to save “behind” the blade to avoid splintering and losing some detail you’re interested in. This makes sense once you make a few marks and see how the plywood splinters and cuts; the linocut equivalent is probably “carve away from the lines you want to keep”.
The mask is cut from brown kraft paper, and has its own registration marks drawn in two corners so it can be applied consistently. The most interesting thing to me is that the shapes cut in the mask don’t necessarily correspond to the shapes you’ve drawn on the block. So you have another vector for adding shape and building up the image.
I unfortunately didn’t get a photo of inking through the mask, but here you can see the block with the ink applied. Karen uses her fingers or the heel of her hand to blend the edges of inked areas, such as the blue one in my piece. The result is that you can have areas of color with hard or soft edges.
After inking the paper is placed on the block and lightly tacked in place with blue painter’s tape. Note the registration marks along the edges of the block and paper; two of them are crossed on both sides, which ensures that the paper isn’t rotated. I think the thing that makes this registration technique so straightforward is that you’re registering the paper onto the block, rather than trying to register the block and paper onto the press bed. One less thing to move makes it much, much easier.
Another change from my past experience is that we’re printing on an etching press without blankets. When I asked Karen about this, she pointed out that the blankets are what push the paper into the carved away area. This gives you embossment (which you might want, but she does not), but also means that you’re continually fighting to make sure the carved away areas don’t print. In addition, with large sheets of kuzo paper, the blankets can cause the paper to move. It’s clear to me that every press owner decides for themselves what a press “needs” for printing, but the lack of blankets did make the process much quicker, which I suspect will be good tomorrow when everyone is printing.
At the end of the day I had my edition of six (plus a ghost for a monoprint) and had started carving away areas in the green area that I want to remain green.
I still don’t feel like I can predict what this print is going to look like, and I’m trying to let go and accept that. Maybe it’s working (a little), because I’m excited to go back tomorrow morning.
I printed my last practice print yesterday before heading to Lincoln. I had this drawn on the plate for the better part of a year, based on a photo from one of my trips to Torino for Creative Commons years ago. Friday evening I sat down and started carving; yesterday afternoon I printed it. 8″ x 10″ on Pescia.
Back in the studio this weekend, experimenting with graphite ink from Gamblin.