When you think about it, “printmaking” is an odd, backwards-sounding word. But if you say it as two words, it explains itself. What is really odd is that printmaking is about creating “multiple originals.” Now, there’s an oxymoron if I’ve ever heard one. Aren’t originals single by definition? Not in printmaking.

In printmaking, a group of these multiple originals is called an “edition,” which is by definition “limited.” “An edition of etchings” is not as poetic as a “murder of crows,” but it makes sense; we know, for example, that books are published in finite editions.

So, what exactly is an original print, and how are they made? People in the art world debate this, especially now, in the toddler years of the Cyber Age. But, I’ll take a stab at defining it. First, get clear that it has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with reproducing a single-original work of art. That’s for commercial printers with big machines that crank out hundreds, even thousands, of cheap reproductions. If you want to royally tick off a printmaker, ask her to make some “prints” of your painting.

No, we’re talking about real, original works that have known the oil and sweat of the artist’s hands. There are five basic types: relief (woodcuts, e.g.), intaglio (etchings, e.g.), lithography, serigraphy (commonly known as silkscreen), and last but not least, monotype.

To make an original woodcut, etching, or lithograph, the artist starts with a wood block, sheet of
copper, or a lithographic stone. Then comes a lot of carving with chisels and knives, scribing, etching, scraping, burnishing, or drawing. All of this manual labor is done by the artist specifically for the purpose of making a limited edition of multiple originals. Once the artist has made this “matrix,” he then inks it and, using the appropriate press, makes impressions from it on sheets of archival paper, one at a time. If multiple colors are desired, he must make a matrix for each one.

Why bother? Why not just make a single-original drawing or painting, instead? Because printmaking gives the artist and the collector a unique look they can’t get in charcoal or oil paint or any other media. Fine-art, truly limited, original prints have a magical character all their own that is amazingly seductive. And, addictive for both artists and collectors.

What is so special about the aesthetics of original prints? In this time of the ubiquitous “giclée” print (pronounced “zjee-clay”), the real thing has even more value than it had before the digitization of the world. Bumper sticker: “Etching—Now More Than Ever.” It’s a niche media for a niche audience. Always has been. But, it can be very affordable.

Where did printmaking come from? From Albrecht Durer, a 16th- century master of the woodcut (Martin Luther used woodcuts for propaganda against the Pope). From Rembrandt, who first made etching a popular art form in the 17th century. From Alois Senefelder, an 18th-century German music publisher who invented lithography. From early-twentieth-century cigar-box manufacturers, who made silkscreen printing applicable to the modern world. Of course, as with so much of human culture, the Chinese had mastered the woodcut and the silkscreen many centuries before all that. Then came the American “print boom” of the 1960s, led by brash young Turks like Jasper Johns and Robert Rauschenberg and Larry Rivers.

To get why original prints are so special, and to understand the distinctions between the different forms and their myriad permutations and combinations, you pretty much have to see them for yourself, up-close and unframed, or better still, make them yourself.

This is very possible in Austin, which happens to be one of only about a half dozen printmaking centers in the U.S. You can see them here, you can make them here, and you can learn about them here. The University of Texas has some of the most extensive collections of original prints in the country. In summer 2004, in fact, you can see world-class examples at the Jack S. Blanton Museum of Art and the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center.

On any given day, year-round, you can see original prints being made at Coronado Studio in south Austin, or at Slugfest Printmaking Workshop & Gallery, or at Flatbed Press and Galleries, both in near-east Austin. Several stand-alone art galleries in Austin carry some original prints. There is even a very active organization called “Women Printmakers of Austin” (W.P.A.). Scads of U.T. and Texas State art graduates, and many professional artists, make prints in their own studios around town.

The biggest, baddest, contemporary artists make original prints. Name a Texas artist, and 10-to-1 odds, they’ve made some, many in Austin at one of the above-named shops. If you have a favorite artist whose original paintings are out of your price range, an original print by this artist may offer you access to their art.

Here’s a surprise for many of you: most original prints are not made by printmakers alone, but by painters and sculptors, working with printmakers. That’s a legacy of the print boom and, before that, of turn-of-the-century Paris. That’s where “collaborating master printers” come in. To create museum-quality original prints, most artists need the help of a printmaking expert. Those are found in the relatively rare printmaking shops. The artist knows his imagery, but the master printer knows how long to keep it in the acid bath. The collaboration between the two is a beautiful thing to watch. And the results can be spectacular. Don’t believe me; go see for yourself.

For a list of galleries and studios offering Original Prints, go to Art by Type and select the category, or click the following link: Printmaking.

By Mark L. Smith, artist, art consultant, and the founding co-director and night watchman of Flatbed Press. His PhD dissertation explored the prints of Robert Rauschenberg, and his current exhibition, The Collaborative Spirit: Prints, Presses, & Deluxe Artist’s Books, continues through October 17, 2004, at U.T.’s Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center.

Photos courtesy of Flatbed Press.
© 2004 Art Lover’s Guide. Inc.