Paint, Paper, Metal, Wood

The studio blog of Carrie Stinson.

These are a few of my favorite materials. The title is an homage to the classic printmaking book from Crown Point Press, “Ink, Paper, Metal, Wood” by Kathan Brown.

Carrie Stinson Carrie Stinson

Studio Notes - Large Blocks

9/30/23 - A difficult printing day. Everything seemed to go wrong! I need to remember that I’m still fairly new to Mokuhanga. This should become a daily practice. If only I could arrange my life to have that kind of time to devote to printmaking. My goal is to make it happen.

But that’s a long-term goal. Right now, I need to get a few good prints out of the three 16x20 blocks that I’ve worked so hard on. It’s too late to quit now! Friday night, I will prepare the damp pack. Use the mister bottle. Spritz 3 times across, 3 rows for a total of 9. Brush up the left side, and across three times. Place the next sheet on top of the first (stagger them a little). Why didn’t I do it this way earlier??? Sandwich between two damp sheets of newsprint, wrap plastic sheeting around it all, and don’t put a weight on it this time. Let it soak overnight.

Saturday morning - Prep the nori. Use distilled water, and make half a jar so I won’t run out of it this time. Make sure the nori is the right consistency (yogurt, mixture drops off at a count of four or five). Test ink gradations (need to make one more jar of the darkest value).

First proof - spray the block with water and let it sit a few minutes. Brush the block. Spray the maru bake and the block and brush it again. Then, add nori and ink (more nori the first time, then less later). Don’t keep spraying the block like last time. Use enough paste and pigment. Shine two lights on the block to gauge amount of water/paste/ink. The lighting was terrible last time - it’s no wonder the prints didn’t turn out!

Try and try again. The blocks are in good shape. I just need to focus on the printing. It will happen. And then, I can work on some small blocks for awhile!

*** And stop beating yourself up over this. Think of how much you love Mokuhanga, and of how much of yourself you have put into these blocks.

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Carrie Stinson Carrie Stinson

My Printmaking Journey

I recently attended a workshop at Zea Mays Printmaking in Northampton, MA, “Intro to Moku Hanga” with Annie Bissett. It was a life-changing experience.

I recently attended a workshop at Zea Mays Printmaking in Northampton, MA, “Intro to Moku Hanga” with Annie Bissett. It was a life-changing experience.

With Moku Hanga, the Japanese method of watercolor woodblock printmaking, I’ve found a technique that combines my love of drawing, painting, and carving without the use of toxic materials or the need for a press. Finding Moku Hanga is the result of a decades-long search.

This journey began at art school, in an “Intro to Lithography” course. I immediately loved the direct process of drawing on a stone with a crayon. It reminded me of the freedom of being three years old, drawing all day with my beloved box of 64 crayons. The Cleveland Museum of Art was across the street from school. I would spend many lunch hours at the museum in a small gallery dedicated to prints from the collection. Seeing a Daumier in person, inches away, made it all feel within reach.

This wasn’t quite the case, of course. Lithography is complex, and my instructor expected much from a beginner class. Just the process of grinding a heavy stone to level the surface and carrying it back to the table was labor intensive. Sometimes, I’d leave the etch on too long and burn out areas of my drawing. And printing…that’s another level of complexity! We were graded on our ability to edition. In an Intro course! This was my first semester at CIA. What on earth was I thinking when I signed up?

I came away from that experience with a love for printmaking, and the realization that I may never be a good printmaker myself, despite the desire to become one. I was also turned off by the toxicity of the studio. Although I majored in Painting, I continued to make monotypes on my own, enthralled with the surprise of seeing my reductive paintings in reverse.

In graduate school, I attended an etching workshop, and had an experience like the Litho course. I loved the process and possibilities, yet disliked being around materials that required safety gloves and ventilation. I enjoyed the ease of drawing through a waxy ground, but found that I really loved incising lines directly into the copper - drypoint. I’d file that memory for future use.

For years after graduation, I pursued greener ways of making artwork. I couldn’t tolerate using damar and solvents and stopped painting in oils for years. This has led to explorations with egg tempera and mediums that combine linseed oil and marble dust.

My love of and interest in printmaking has only continued to grow. I’ve collected a library of printmaking books: “The Complete Printmaker”, the “Magical Secrets” series and “Ink, Paper, Metal, Wood” from Crown Point Press, and many others. I’ve tried Solarplate (unsuccessfully). I’ve also tried western woodcut (my prints weren’t good, but I loved working with the u-gouge).

With each failed attempt, I kept trying. How could I make prints at home, safely, without a press? Are there any inks that use the same pigments as watercolor and oil? Because I wasn’t having much luck with inks made specifically for printmaking (both oil and water-based).

In 2015, I found April Vollmer’s excellent book “Japanese Woodblock Print Workshop”. It was a revelation! It is beautifully illustrated and inspirational. I could not believe that – yes – it is possible to make prints safety at home, without a press, and with watercolor! I could use the same pigments that I’d been using for years as a painter!

Still, the more I read, the more complex the Japanese method of woodblock printmaking seemed. Dampen the paper – but how damp? How much pressure should be applied to the paper with a baren? What is a good ratio of Nori paste to pigment? And the photos of the author using a Japanese knife, Hangi-Toh, looked terrifying to me. Would I be able to control this knife, much less draw with it, without a trip to the ER?

I needed to find an in-person class. Unfortunately, Ohio didn’t have many (or any) Moku Hanga workshops that I was aware of. I promised myself that I would attend a class as soon as it was possible.

Visiting Zygote for the first time in 2017, I was excited to learn about their green studio initiatives. I am grateful that Cleveland has this resource and community. I have had great experiences while attending etching and drypoint One-On-One sessions at Zygote Press. It was here that I learned about Zea Mays, and the green techniques used there.

In June 2019, I attended a mezzotint workshop at Zea Mays in Massachusetts. Carol Wax wrote the bible on mezzotint – what an amazing experience it was to attend her workshop! The owner of Zea Mays, Liz Chalfin, was also available for instruction and guidance. The studio space is beautiful, and the environment is warm and nurturing. What a delight it is to spend time there. Worth the 8.5-hour drive!

Not long after that class, Zea Mays posted a Moku Hanga workshop, scheduled for May 2020. I was all set to attend – and then, the world stopped. The beginning of the pandemic was difficult for most of us. I had been working on etchings at Zygote in March 2020 and had planned to focus on printing a series of etchings. These plans came to an indefinite halt.

During the pandemic, Zea Mays created an online school. Last summer I started working with Julie Lapping Rivera’s excellent “Beginning Woodcut” video course. Then, in September, Annie Bissett’s “Moku Hanga” video became available. The quality of these videos is outstanding, and I can’t wait to try more from the library of courses.

Both videos clearly break down each step in the process. I was a huge step closer to realizing my dream of learning Moku Hanga and creating prints with it. It was around this time that both Zygote and Zea Mays re-opened.

Then, in April of this year, I was finally able to attend an in-person Moku Hanga workshop at Zea Mays, with Annie Bissett. I am still processing this amazing, life-changing experience.

The class was a great group of women – all ages, everyone supportive of each other. Annie is so knowledgeable and down to earth. Generous with her time, supportive of each of us.  

I must admit that when this class started, I was still afraid to use my knife. I quickly conquered this fear on the first day! The set of tools that I purchased from McClain’s Printmaking Supplies worked beautifully. For hours I worked on one block, a detailed drawing of many birds in a tree. After a while, I was completely lost in it – it felt as if I had been carving my entire life.

On the morning of the last day, I quickly carved a second block – this time much more freely, using u-gouges. I was running out of time and hadn’t tried printing yet. I have a feeling that it will take years for me to become proficient at this.  

I started proofing with a block of color, a yellow wash. Then, I printed the second, freely carved block. Annie always seemed to sense when I was struggling and was there to help guide me.

The workshop was ending soon, and I hadn’t printed the bird block yet. I started printing, only to find that I had not cleared away enough of the areas that I didn’t want printed. I started frantically, yet carefully, gouging the block. I was nearly in tears when Annie appeared. She said, “I’d like to see what this looks like printed, don’t you? Would you like some help with clearing?”. Yes, please, and THANK YOU!

I was so grateful for Annie’s help. We couldn’t get it all, there wasn’t enough time, but I was able to print and get a good proof.

When I combined the three blocks into one print, it felt like magic. I was happy with the detailed block, even though a few birds lost their beaks (carved too thin). Combining the detail with the freer block excited me and opened up possibilities. It’s strange that some of the marks look like brushstrokes, even though they were made by carving into wood.

I left for home after the workshop ended – exhausted, in a good way, and fulfilled. I don’t know how “good” I’ll ever be at Moku Hanga printmaking, but I know that I want to do this for the rest of my life.

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