Let me just start by saying that I absolutely love making prints. That being said, it is one of the most tedious, labor-intensive art forms I have ever dabbled in.
I took up printmaking over the summer in a class at my school because:
a) it was taught by a professer I particularly like, and
b) because everyone I'd spoken to who had tried it told me I'd really like it.
I really, REALLY fell in love with it. In a lot of ways, it reminded me of my old photography days in the darkroom; the act of putting my paper over a plate and running it through the printing press strongly reminded me of how much I loved putting my photo paper into developer and never quite knowing how it'd turn out. I probably never knew how either would turn out because I'm incredibly impatient and refuse to make test prints of my photos or my plates, but I choose to ignore that fact.
I'm currently working on an altered book which I'm drawing, painting and printing directly into. Unlike other altered books that I've made (and by other, I mean the one I made for drawing class), the pressure to make perfect images while working on these pages seems intense. While I've always been a messy "artist" and never cared about it as I've always been able to cover my mistakes or ultimately add them into my final image, this is a feeling I'm quite unfamiliar with.
Actually, that's not entirely true. While I never felt the pressure to get the "perfect" print while working in the darkroom, the anxiety I got when developing my own film was quite similar to what I feel while working on this book. I remember the first (and only!) time I ruined a role of film by developing in a not-fully-dark room. This may sound melodramatic (and I am), but I felt COMPLETE and UTTER devastation. After all, one can make an infinite amount of prints from a perfectly developed set of negatives... but a roll with a giant white stripe down the middle? Not a chance.
Don't get me wrong-- I've made plenty of slips while working on my print plates, which may seem the same as over/underexposing a film strip. However, I've always been able to rework my plates in the same way that I can rework my paintings. (Except when I'm working in watercolor. That shit is unforgiving.)
Still, working in this book gives me an incredibly uneasy feeling of trepidation. It's a beautiful old Russian fashion book that I picked up at Powell's for probably $2, but to me it's irreplaceable. Aside from the fact that I probably could never find another copy, I've already spent countless hours pouring over my collection of fashion magazines and cutting and pasting base images into the book to work with. One slip of my hand while printing a plate, painting a word or reworking an image in pastel could potentially turn this awesome project into an epic tragedy.
Once again, I realize I'm melodramatic. But please, just work with me here.
Part of my anxiety comes from:
a) the fact that though I've always done art in some form, I'd never taken drawing seriously until about 2 years ago, and
b) even when I started taking it seriously, I've never liked sketching. I hate drawing in pencil, and avoid it if at all possible. So usually when I start a project, it's not only my first, but my final image... and the margin for error (though as I said, I openly incorporate my "mistakes") is quite slim.
Nonetheless, I seem to have what I think of as incredible "beginner's luck." When I start most of my projects, I have no idea where I'm going-- yet they all seem to turn into pieces that look like I planned every step of the way. If you know me, you know this is never the case; in reality I tend to be very touch-and-go, mixing media and experimenting in every way imaginable. I've never been a "planner" by any stretch of the imagination in any sector of my life, and the art I make is not an exception. While I enjoy working hard on a variety of things and learning about almost any subject, I am an expert procrastinator and love to work under pressure-- be it competition or deadline.
When I ride my horse, I love to compete against the best people, in the biggest shows, for the most money, in front of a large crowd. I live off of that adrenaline, and I've worked incredibly hard to be successful in my riding just to be able to get into those situations. A few years ago, I had the best experience of my life when I walked under a giant clocktower in front of 50,000 people in the pouring rain and jumped 6'1" to finish 4th in a high-jump competition behind 3 former Olympians in one of the biggest international competitions in the world. So... trust me, when I say I thrive under pressure-- I'm not joking around.
But back to printmaking.
As I was introduced to this art form at a design school rather than an art school, we used water-based inks in place of oil-based inks because we didn't have the proper equipment for the latter. Water-based ink (in my limited experience) works great for relief prints using linoleum and wood. However, I always wished to get more from my copper etchings, and recently I had my first experience working in oil ink as I wanted to use watercolors over the top of an edition of prints, a feat not possible when using water-based ink. I had NO idea how much a different creature oil ink was as opposed to water ink, and my prints turned out... okay at best. Also, this happened:
While it's a fairly (okay, inevitable) occurrence for my hands to be stained by paints, inks, charcoals and pastels, I'd never experienced anything like trying to get this type of printmaking ink off my hands. As I couldn't use chemicals to clean my plate, I had to use oil (corn? vegetable? I don't quite remember-- oops) and it left my hands in a strange state for roughly 2 weeks, despite the amount of times that I attempted to scrub them clean.
I don't mind being dirty. I've ridden horses and worked in barns off and off for 14 years; half of my clothes are stained with some kind of art media or covered in dog/horse hair. I mean, I shower and do laundry regularly, but I'm not particularly obsessed with other people's opinions about the state of my wardrobe. Still, what seems to happen when I'm making prints is unparalleled. Am I that much of a disaster? Or am I now supposed to apply my work ethic to attempting to staying clean?
Whatever. The point of this extensive diatribe was simply to say this:
Though I love it, printmaking is not only a lot of work, but can be quite stressful.
Maybe I should just take up ping-pong.
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