Building Blocks

Today, I want to be a print maker.

Eighteen years ago I created a series of stencil prints to be used as invitations to my sister-in-law's baby shower. Ah, it was a clever little print, and a limited edition as well.  I wonder if anyone still has their invitation pressed lovingly into a scrapbook or picture frame. I would like to say the last known print was sold at auction for thousands of dollars. Surely it is worth more than the paint I used to render it... now that I have publicly claimed my Artistness?

This long lost piece of art was a primitive black printed pregnant figure sporting a baby bump that was stenciled with a purple area cut out in the shape of a baby. The silhouette of the mom was celebrating, arms raised.  I dusted it with glitter and sent it off with much love and satisfaction. The baby shower had a good showing as well as the baby, Mackenzie, my Goddaughter.

In the months following the shower, I created another stencil design for a sponsored team in the MS Walk. I recall that I stenciled shirts into the wee hours of the morning.  This was my last stencil print project.

We all had small children then and the feeling of how much I loved that process fell away from my consciousness in the busy world of raising a family. That was okay. I didn't ponder the loss because I was busy making fantastic art with my kids, turning them into crazy little creative art making machines.  Fun times.

But, back to building blocks... several quarters ago my painting teacher and renowned artist, David Roholt (www.davidroholt.com), introduced me to the art of the solar print. (Imagine a hundred Angels singing as the sun streams through the clouds.)

The process. I love the process. It requires devotion and concentration and patience and love. The drawing is transferred. The image is etched and then the emulsion is washed away revealing a relief impression.  It is quite a moment to see the emerging image as the plate sets.

The ink is mixed, worked and warmed, the paper is soaked in water. This oil-based color is then worked into the impression with a tulle type material, then carefully wiped away leaving the outline of the final image in reverse.  The inked plate is placed on the press, a damp piece of paper is arranged carefully over the top and then a crank rolls the weighted drum over the art leaving the image and a plate impression on the paper.

It took five hours to pull fifteen prints for my first solar print edition.  I have managed to streamline the process to two hours.  I am proud of that, even though I feel it is the timeframe of a beginning print maker. For many people, this process would be mind-numbing torture.  In this world of instant gratification we don't really wait for anything that takes longer than five minutes.

In my Print Making Independent Study, I have since added linocut and mezzotint prints to my portfolio, and am preparing to create a multi-block print in which the time for this process will be multiplied by four.

I do admit to wanting to be an expert printmaker now.  Not after years of practice and experience. I want to know what it is that makes a stellar print and what makes a mediocre print.  What makes a fine artist and when will that artist know how fine they are? I don't want to wait for it.

This year, Mackenzie, turned eighteen and graduated from high school with my daughter, Hannah, who was featured in the photograph in my Art Awakening post. These young ladies are stellar people.  They didn't instantly transform into the confident young women they are today.  They had many trials and lessons to live through before we would even think of sending them out on their own to attend college across the state.

I know that their success was achieved through years of practice and experience.  They needed the time to grow and change and mature... like every good print maker, I know that only experience can make the difference between being okay and being spectacular.

I will work towards spectacular, but I can't keep from hoping... does that eighteen year-old stencil print count and have I been a print maker all this time, like an emulsified image waiting to finally emerge?

Celebrate - Stencil Print ©1994 Darcy Cline

9 Months - Linocut Print © 2012 Darcy Cline