Showing posts with label printmaking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label printmaking. Show all posts

Monday, January 21, 2019

Wisdom Mask - From Sketch to Linocut

It's funny how setting limits can increase creativity. As an art instructor, I often go in new directions because of project ideas I set for my students. On February 16th and 17th, I am teaching a workshop called Magical Masks: Linocut Weekend Workshop (you can register HERE) inspired by the current special exhibit "Congo Masks" at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, through February 24th. As I worked on my own linocut mask example to show students, I had ideas for many masks. I may end up making a mask series!

One practice I've been incorporating in recent years is to create a piece of art I can put on my studio wall to represent the state of mind or qualities I want to embody. I decided to use the idea of creating a mask to help me with this.

Let me walk you through my process...

I started off by visiting the Congo Mask exhibit at the VMFA. It was a beautiful exhibit. All of the following masks are from different regions and cultures within the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Common materials were wood, pigment, and raffia. The information related was transcribed or paraphrased from the placards in the exhibit.

Anthropo-Zoomorphic Ndunga Face Mask
First quarter of the 20th century
Sundi Culture

I loved the simplicity and bold shapes of this mask. And the ears!

Ndunga Face Mask and Replica Costume (Mamboma)
First quarter of the 20th century
Woyo culture

What a fantastic mask and costume! It is speculated that it may represent a member of the secret ndunga society, which sought to restore justice and to uphold social order and ancestral law within their communities. It was also speculated that the mask may have been performed to ward off disease, and that the painted dots represented smallpox.

Large Face Mask (Pumbu)
Second quarter of the 20th century
Eastern Pende culture

According to the placard, this pumbu mask was performed following times of crisis, disease, and famine in the community to help restore order and good will. What struck me about this mask was its bold features, the raffia beard (raffia was a very common material in many of the masks), and intricately carved and whitened patterns. 

Round Striated Forehead Mask
First quarter of the 20th century
Luba culture

This mask may have represented beings relating to the Luba culture's origin myths, as well as the moon and spirit realm. The crest at the rear was thought to serve as an antenna for detecting evil. Something about this mask really reminded me of a Dr. Suess character! I think it is the eyes.

Oops, I didn't take down the info for these masks. But I love how sculptural they are. They look like crescent moons to me.

Horned Face Mask (Kayamba)
First quarter of the 20th century
Lega culture

Whenever I'm doing visual research, I like to not only take photographs, but sketch from life. I believe this imbues my hands and spirit with the "feeling" of my subject. Also, when I'm drawing from life I get a better understanding of what it takes to create my own version, and I'm able to move around and see the object from different angles in case I don't really understand what I'm seeing. With photographs, the image is already flattened and it's hard to "zoom in" on a detail if you didn't take the right photo. It's also hard to tell things like the actual color or material of an object. I only drew a couple of masks, but it gave me a better sense of how dimensional and well-balanced these masks are, even the ones that appear simple.

Pencil on cold press watercolor paper. Over the summer I made a small sketchbook that is lightweight and easy to fold the covers back, which I like to use for sketching from life. 

Later in the week, I began sketching ideas for my own mask. I looked through my notes and photos, thinking about such elements as the visual look of the masks - I was personally drawn to masks with simplified shapes and highly stylized features; the performance aspect of masks - they are worn with costumes and performed with dance and singing for various purposes such as spiritual ceremonies and rites of manhood; the colors used (mostly red, black, and white pigments); and the natural materials that were specific to the different regions. I also loved how dimensional the masks were, and wanted my linocut to look like a real object incorporating some shadows. I can't say I'm an expert on Congo masks, but I tried to use what I learned as a guide for thinking about the elements of a mask.

I began doodling and writing a list of some of the qualities and gifts I want to embody and learn from this year. I thought about what the different features of the face could symbolize: eyes for vision and clarity. Mouth for speaking truth. I had a couple of dreams about snakes recently, so I drew one on the page.

Then I got totally overwhelmed! I realized I needed to take a lesson from my favorite Congo masks and SIMPLIFY! And also, to switch mediums.


Instead of trying to cram all the elements I'd wanted into one mask, I used one or two to give a focus to each mask. Sometimes when I'm feeling stuck or afraid to make a move, I switch mediums to help me. There's something so final about a drawing, but collage allows for re-arranging shapes easily before gluing them down. I cut some shapes out of painted papers: leaves, a shell, a snake, a tree trunk. I played with them and arranged some pleasing combinations. I decided to let go of trying to mentally direct the idea of each mask, and instead let shapes and colors guide me to what felt right. I added watercolor. At first, stylizing the human face was harder than I thought. I'm more comfortable drawing animals, so it made me respect the vision and craftsmanship that went into creating the Congo masks. After awhile I loosened up and began to have more fun with it.

I settled upon the mask at the right (above) for my first carving! 


I sketched ideas for backgrounds to add environments and mood to the masks. Then I was ready to start my linocut! I begin as I always do, measuring and cutting my linoleum to size with a razor blade. Then I applied a watered-down india ink wash to the surface. I traced my mask from my sketchbook onto tracing paper, then transferred it to the linoleum plate with white Saral brand transfer paper. I knew from the blue watercolor sketch above that I wanted to keep the stars and leaves of the background very simple, so I started carving there. 

But I kept avoiding working on the actual face. I'll tell you the truth, I'm often scared before I dive into a piece of artwork - afraid to make decisions for fear I'll mess it up. Afraid to invest so much time into something that might not look the way I hoped. Deciding about how to carve the face was hard because I started off with a full-color watercolor/collage sketch, and linocut is a totally different medium! In linocut, you either cut or you don't cut. There is no tone. Also, you can plan for colors in a linocut, but you have to think ahead a bit. I've used a few different methods to add specific areas of color in linocut. You can carve multiple plates, each a different color, to print in layers. You can leave blank space to hand-paint later in watercolor. There's also chine-collĂ©, which involves adding colored papers during the printing process.


Anyway, I forged ahead blindly without deciding how I would add color to my linocut until I had already carved the background (generally not recommended!) I thought about carving two plates, but then settled on carving just one plate and hand-coloring. There are some printmakers who plan exactly what their cut will look like ahead of time. I almost never do that, because for me the most fun part of making a linocut is carving and uncovering what it's going to look like. I often make decisions I regret, and sometimes I can carefully fix them (see my post on Linocut Surgery), but sometimes I just have to let it be. Usually it's good enough for me! Anyway, I realized I couldn't stall any longer and had to make a move. So I began carving the top section of the forehead and the shell!

One thing that helps me when I'm worried about how to go about a piece of art, is to remember that it doesn't just come from myself. I believe art comes from another realm and I need to be sensitive about accessing that other world and allowing ideas to come into physical existence. My dad has talked to me about this before, and a few years ago I heard about it in Elizabeth Gilbert's "Big Magic." So if I'm afraid, I think, "What wants to come into existence?" rather than "What do want this to be?" 

Moving on to the lower part of the face, I sketched out fine lines in white colored pencil. I like working in pencil because I can change it around and erase. Another method is using white watercolor pencil and wiping away unwanted elements with a damp tissue or cloth. Notice on the photo below that I tried out a checker pattern on the snake/nose but later ended up removing it.

I've never carved such fine parallel symmetrical lines like this before. I would not recommend this for a beginner! Luckily, I didn't mess it up.

And here is the finished linocut! I'm quite pleased with it. Well, it's not over because I haven't printed it or added watercolor. As you can see, areas in the original watercolor sketch that had color were carved away. These areas will not print, so I can paint into them later.

I call this piece, "Wisdom Mask." For me, the shell represents wisdom - both spiritual wisdom and cultivating my mental faculty to think and make decisions without wasting so much energy on fear and anxiety. The snake/nose represents grounding down my energies into the earth. The full cheeks and gently smiling mouth are a reminder of a child's innocence and joy.

I loved how dimensional this piece looked when carved. Maybe one day I will carve real masks out of wood.


And there you have it! I will post again once I print this mask.

If you live near the Richmond, VA area and are interested in taking my workshop, the information and registration link is below. Though I will say that carving this mask took me awhile, so for this workshop we'll focus on carving a mask without the background, and your design should be considerably simpler to carve, especially if you're a beginner. I've been doing this for many years, so I challenged myself a bit with this cut and don't expect you to do the same!

Magical Masks: Linocut Weekend Workshop NEW! [54]

Sat & Sun, Feb 16 &17, 10 am–4 pm (2 sessions) | Studio School, 1st floor Aijung Kim
Masks can simplify or exaggerate a human character. They can represent animal, magical, or non-human qualities that the wearer wishes to embody. The class will tour the Congo Masks exhibition in the VMFA galleries to explore the materials, aesthetics, and meanings of Central African masks. The group will then return to the printmaking studio to design their own mask. The instructor will demonstrate how to design, transfer, carve, ink, and print a linoleum cut inspired by the mask theme.
Register HERE.

Monday, September 24, 2018

Some Art From the Time In-Between!

Hi Friends,

Wow, I can't believe it's been over two years since I've posted here! At the moment, I tend to post art stuff on my Instagram page, but technology apps tend to morph and lose popularity so fast, and I have been missing my blog! Plus, the blog is always here for the technologically-challenged.

Well. A lot has transpired since my last blog post. But, I'll save that for future posts. Instead, I'll show you some art I've made in that time in-between, during 2016 and 2017.



A few monotypes and collages I created in 2016.


A painted "quilt" collage I made in my sketchbook.



I recreated a woodcut I hadn't been totally satisfied with and made it into a linocut instead. For some of the prints, I hand-colored them with watercolor and colored pencil.


I took an amazing online class with Portland, OR artist Alison O'Donoghue called "Bottles, Bananas, and Beyond," available on the website www.carlasonheim.com. I adored this class and it totally inspired me. The piece above is called "Coexistence." It was created using acrylic paints.

Then I took a class with Alison called "Birds on Birds," similar to the previous class I took. Again, fun times, though I think I enjoyed the "Bottles, Bananas" class a little better because of the freedom of subject matter. This acrylic painting is called "Duet."

Okay, that's all for now. I am on a creative tear at the moment, so I'll keep sharing and hopefully there won't be as much radio silence on this blog from now on!


Sunday, August 30, 2015

Inspirations and Frustrations - Finding My Illustration Voice

Yesterday, after a day of drawing and painting, I felt intensely frustrated with myself. In January I started some sketchbook experiments in search of my "illustration voice," a medium and style I can use in my children's book illustration. While printmaking is the medium I work with most often, I wanted to find a more direct approach to my children's illustration, such as drawing, painting, collage, and/or mixed media. This active search for a new voice began in 2013 after taking Joy Chu's online "Illustrating Books for Children" course. I had completed a few visual story sequences, including a dummy (you can see some spreads here), and I realized that I didn't know how to execute the finished illustrations. In particular, I felt unsure of how to translate my black and white pen sketches into full-color pieces.

This has been a problem for me. I feel comfortable working in printmaking, particularly linocut, but I don't want to feel obligated to work in this medium all the time. Each particular medium has its own unique quality that has a certain look and mood. Because linocuts are carved from linoleum and printed, they often produce a highly graphic look. The way that you carve into a linocut or woodcut requires a conscious use of value, contrast, and negative and positive shapes. It can be great for well-defined compositions, pronounced linework, and shapes that stand as bold silhouettes or patterned forms. While linocuts can be very colorful, often linocuts will have a limited color palette because a lot of work goes into creating each separate color layer.

My line work tends to be the strongest and most distinctive element of my artwork. Here are some examples of linocuts I made which I think are successful:
Call to Morning, linocut, 2014

April Mouse, linocut, 2012

I Went Hunting, linocut, 2010

The Greedy Bird, linocut, 2010

I also feel confident in my pen/ink/brush work in black and white:

Here are some examples of mostly published children's illustrators who have successfully and gorgeously used linocut or woodcut in their book illustration:

From The House in the Night, illustrated by Beth Krommes and written by Susan Marie Swanson. This was actually executed in scratchboard, but the look is very similar to linocut. This won a Caldecott!

From Tiny's Big Adventure, illustrated by John Lawrence and written by Martin Waddell

From Dark Emperor, illustrated by Rick Allen and written by Joyce Sidman

Unpublished (as far as I know) linocuts by Olga Ezova-Denisova. The last image shows her carved linocut plates.

From Beastly Verse, illustrated by JooHee Yoon, poetry by various authors. I'm not sure if this was actually a print, but the colors are layered like one.

While I love linocut, there are downsides to using the medium for illustration. It can be laborious and time-consuming to plan and execute a print. Because I'm working indirectly, I first have to carve all the plates (usually one plate per color), and then I have to mix my ink colors and print the plates. It can be tricky to find a harmonious blend of colors, even if I've planned out color sketches beforehand. It's also hard to use many colors in one piece, unless I want to hand-color the print afterwards with watercolor or carve out a zillion plates or stamps, one for each color. Though as I'm learning with my recent painting/drawing experiments, it's probably a good thing for me to limit my color because my work can get lost and muddled when I use too many colors. The other drawback to using linocut is that it's difficult to make it look spontaneous in the way that a loose watercolor or crayon scribble can. I want to find a style to work in that uses drawing and painting, rather than printmaking, so that I can work more directly.

As I look at children's illustrators that I admire, I start to see some patterns. Aside from the printmakers whose work I enjoy, I am drawn to certain visual devices. I tend to like a pared-down color palette. In fact, often I like work with a lot of grays and blacks, with no more than a few main colors. 

From Jane, the Fox, and Me by Isabelle Arsenault

 I also love textural, patterned, and/or detailed linework. Joanna Concejo illustrates these qualities masterfully, along with a limited palette. Her work is truly some of the most amazing I've seen!

Illustrations by Joanna Concejo (first two images from Little Red Riding Hood)

I love the ethereal mark-making and use of color in Laura Carlin's illustrations for The Promise, written by Nicola Davies.

Peter Sis makes me marvel with his fantastic use of color and teeny-tiny mark ink marks in this spread from Conference of the Birds. He is one of my favorite illustrators.


I just discovered the illustrator Signe Kjaer. I love the loose freshness of her paintings.

And Henrik Drescher really shakes things up with his sketchy organic lines and bright pops of color. The first image is from his book Simon's Book.

When I look at these artists, I can see how my painting work does not look like theirs. Through drawing, painting, and mixed media, they have complete mastery over their visuals and storytelling, even in images that look simplistic or child-like. They have captured a freshness, a seemingly untamed spontaneity, with their work. There is something that goes beyond the isolated elements that I like, though. Something about the artist's content, their style, mood, medium, and composition that adds up to a magical sum. This is the artist's voice - something they're born with and that they develop throughout their lives. I know that finding and using one's artistic voice doesn't happen automatically. There is usually a lot of experimentation, practice, and muddling along the way, yet it's also innate in each of us. This uniqueness, how do we find it?

This leads me to a few questions:

What makes a picture interesting? 

Seems like a simple question. I could try to replicate someone else's style exactly, but somehow it wouldn't look as good or feel the same. And it just wouldn't be as interesting as what that specific artist came up with through their own unique art processes and life experiences.

How shall I go about finding my voice in children's book illustration? 

I've thought of some possibilities, some suggested by other artist friends. 

- Look through all my previous work and isolate the specific elements that make a piece successful. Emphasize those elements in the different media.

- Work on strengthening weak points. Take a painting class, do more observational drawing, practice the skills I need.

- Write and work on my own story that is more personal to me. Perhaps just doing random experiments won't yield the results I seek as much as working on a specific story that has its own logic and set of problems which require specific visual solutions.

- Start with an illustration style using the medium I am most comfortable with first before trying something more difficult. For me that's printmaking. And after all, I haven't done much with linocut specifically for children's book illustration, maybe I will find that it will be more of a challenge than I thought painting was!

- Mix and match mediums. Experiment with ways of incorporating printmaking with mixed media in a way that can combine the graphically-defined look of linocut with the looseness of painting.

- Don't try to make my work look like anything specific. Don't aim to be like the artists I like. Experiment with extremes of style, medium, and content and my painting voice may reveal itself in an organic, rambling way.

- Work in a totally new medium (not necessarily visual art) to refresh my soul and gain a new perspective, then go back to what I was working on before.

What if I'll never be good enough? 

Art-making is the thing I am perhaps most confident about in my life. Yet I know there are thousands (millions?) of artists better than me. And it's in the eye of the beholder anyway, so I know it's not sensible to compare. But if I'm going to make art as my living - as something I share with others that they look at or purchase or find some solace in - I want it to be GOOD. I want it to say something with visuals that only I can say in my own particular artist's voice. If someone could say it better or more uniquely, than I don't see the point of doing it myself. I know I have a unique voice, because every person is unique. But can it be unique, and good, and interesting at the same time?

Maybe after awhile I will hit upon something interesting in drawing/painting/whatever, but there is also the possibility that I will never be as good at painting as I am at printmaking. Maybe what makes me distinct can best be translated through the medium of printmaking. I don't know how I feel about that.

And now, on to a peek in my sketchbooks. I can't say I'm proud of all of these works. I like some much more than others. And some I think are downright boring or crappy. But they're just experiments and stepping stones towards something I hope I will like a lot. I don't know how long it will take me to get there. I want to find a process that I enjoy creating with, while broadening my understanding of how to use color successfully. For me, the hardest part of working with color is establishing a strong value structure and contrast. I can get lost in the possibilities of color and my work loses strength. Also, I just don't "get" painting the way I get printmaking. I think in black and white before thinking in color. But I do love color, so it's worth the effort to work on it! 

Pen and ink with watercolor (A portrait of my fat lil' cat.)

Acrylic paint.

Acrylic paint with pen and ink.

Acrylic paint, collage, and the goose comes from one of my linocuts. I was seeing if I could create the "look" of linocut in paint with this dog.

Acrylic paint and collage with pen and ink.

Watercolor, colored ink, and cut paper collage.

Watercolor with pencil, charcoal pencil, and pen and ink.

Watercolor, pencil, and sumi ink.

Watercolor on one of my linocuts.

Again, trying to translate the look of linocuts with pen and ink and watercolor.

Acrylic paint. I was pretty pleased with how she came out. I feel like I chose the colors just right for this one.

The same image, this time translated into a 4-layer screenprint. (Soon to be listed for purchase in my Etsy Shop, Sprout Head).

My sketches from yesterday. Colored pencil, some with watercolor wash laid over or under the pencil. I was excited about these drawings because I was able to get a loose, spontaneous-looking texture with the colored pencil.

I then tried to translate the watercolor/colored pencil technique to these girls, but they just don't have much life. This may partly have to do with the fact that I don't really love drawing people, I'd much rather draw animals or creatures instead.

Again, trying colored pencil and watercolor on the same subject. I like how the cat turned out with just colored pencil, and I think the bottom two girls have more life, but I still don't think they look as interesting as the cat does.

Brush and sumi ink.

Tried to recreate the top image but inject a bit more color into a small portion of the drawing.

As I work on my drawing and painting experiments, I wonder if my work will ever possess the qualities of illustrators that I admire. I realized something that works against me in painting: with linocut, even if a line is simple it takes longer to carve. I spend a long time on my linocuts, but painting can be so fast. I wonder if I need that element of time and slow care for my work to have that special quality. Some artists are great at dashing off a quick, spontaneous-looking piece of art and it's so full of personality, like the artist Quentin Blake. I know that fast does not equate with easy. When I do it, it just looks kind of careless, in my opinion. I want to create work that you can get lost in and feels fully realized.

I know I shouldn't put so much pressure on myself to figure this out right away. I can look at it as a fun challenge, a way to keep evolving as an artist. It's funny how sometimes I'll take it for granted that I'm good at something, and then realize there are loads of things I've still yet to master! But I suppose life would be boring if it all came so easy. Who knows, I may discover a new way of working that I'd never even considered before.

Dear Readers: Is there anything that you long to be good at, but feel daunted by?