This design started out on a piece of 8×10 gessoed Masonite board. I like to do the more complex Celtic designs on Masonite for a number of reasons. It is easier to deal with the compass and with the erasing of geometric guidelines on the board, rather than tearing up a piece of paper. I also like to throw a few of the works-in-progress into my sketch pad bag, and having them on Masonite makes it easy to just pull one out and work on it anywhere.

First sketch layout of Harvest Cross design

It sat for a while. I liked it, but was not painting complex Celtic designs at the time. The lower panel is from a Medieval manuscript. My notes say 12th-13th century, but I neglected to list which manuscript, and I haven’t re-found it. The cross itself is a very traditional Irish Celtic Cross shape, with circular cut-outs at the junctions of the arms and a wheel with the arms extending out of the circle edge. I added the free-form, winding grape vines and more regular patterns of mistletoe using numerous sources from early and late Medieval examples and my own imagination.

When I was asked to provide art for some possible digital reproductions, it seemed like a good time to dust off the design. I produced it in black and white. I liked it. but the digital project did not materialize. I really do like the look of it this way. The angles of the mistletoe leaves in the arms create a lovely, layered, diamond effect.

So when I was working on printing plates and I wanted a complex design, roughly 8×10, with some Celtic flair, I sorted through my Masonite board layouts and picked this one. I plunked down an acrylic plate and traced the design with a stylus to make a printing plate. I wasn’t going for subtle shading or chiaroscuro. No drama. Just lines. Lots of complex lines.

I was also going for a comfortable speed. So the width of the twining vines and spiraling mistletoe is not as consistent as I would like. That being said, the print looks really awesome. I am still working on the process, but I have been very pleased with the results. There is a lot of satisfaction in making it all come together from drawing, to plate, to print. The zinc plates require deliberate and focused lines. The diamond tipped scriber is a bit stiff, requiring careful use. The steel scriber is lighter and more like drawing with a pencil when you put it to an acrylic plate. Just remember it doesn’t make as many prints.

Acrylic plate

This is the fourth impression of the plate. It has a bit of uneven toning, and a few streaks, but I like the look of it over all.

Intaglio print of Harvest Cross

So I have a small stash of prints. Pulled with my own smudged hands. All of them of the Harvest Cross, and each one just a bit different. Do I stop there? Would added color take away from the awesomeness of the print? Perhaps. Perhaps not. No knowing unless you try, I suppose.

And I did.

This, then, is Harvest Cross II. Number five in the run of eight intaglio prints, carefully crafted then covered in blankets and coaxed through a series of print rollers, then dried and lightly tinted with high quality, liquid watercolors. Is it a masterpiece? Well, maybe not. But it was certainly fun.

Harvest Cross II

And so the day arrives. Negative voice notwithstanding, I stood poised at the brink of possibilities five years in the making. I started my significant day with a bagel and coffee at Panera. Rituals can involve something as prosaic as a bagel and coffee. The scent and taste of a breakfast associated with working, or with a weekend can color the whole day. For me, it used to be Starbuck’s mocha and a breakfast sandwich before getting into work in Washington DC. These days, a toasted Panera Everything bagel and bottomless cup of Hazelnut coffee is the feel of a day of art.

One of my forgotten bits of minor drama; tarlatan fabric. Every time I read an article or book on making intaglio prints, they mention it. As if you would know what it is already. Poof-use the tarlatan fabric to wipe the ink from the printing plate. When searched on the internet- use your own favorite search engine- I find that it is a fabric once used for many purposes, but nowadays only seems to be useful to those who hand-pull prints.

It is 100% cotton, making it absorbent. It is loosely woven, making it light and somewhat see-through. And it is heavily starched, making it stiff and less likely to pull ink from fine lines on the printing plate. And it is bloody hard to find. It used to be used in women’s undergarments, ballerina tutus, and widely used as stage curtain fabric and translucent scrim panels in theater. Now, those uses are primarily taken over with other materials.

And no art store in my vicinity carries it. Luckily I have Manly Banister and his book of many printing tips. Sure enough, you can starch cheesecloth to get the same effect. Though Manly is not telling me how starchy it needs to be. So we start with the middle of the road: one cup liquid starch to two cups of water. I don’t know how much I’ll need, but I cut up a packet of cheesecloth into pieces and soak each piece, then hang it over a hanger to dry.  We’ll see how that works.

And I realized that I had never opened my package of paper. I couldn’t remember what I had purchased. I thought I remembered white and grey paper. I dug out the large flat package. And, to my surprise, I found a second, smaller, flat box. I had ordered papers from two stores.

In the most pleasing news of the day, I found a large package of black and grey Stonehenge intaglio printing paper and a slightly smaller box of lighter weight printing paper in a sampler of pale colors. Pale green, rust orange, yellow, etc. So, frankly, anything but white. The lighter paper is more useful for block prints. And block printing plates I gots, so here we go.

There is a short article on printmaking terms in my Derrybawn Project posts, but in short, dry point techniques create a line with a slight burr of plate material as you work. The burr holds ink alongside the line itself. This creates a specific type of line, slightly soft in appearance, that is unique to dry point. The burr is not permanent and as the plate passes through the pressure of an etching press, the burr will break down and change the look of the print. Thus the earliest prints pulled, with the lowest numbers, are more sought after. This creates a limited edition, as the plate will wear out. The plates can be retooled with the stylus, but the character of the print will change as the new lines and new burr cannot be well developed after the original burr is damaged. Copper is harder than zinc, and zinc is harder than acrylic. I am told that acrylic dry point plates will last for a few prints at best. A fair tradeoff for the ease of making the plates in the first place, I feel.

Sooooo…. I started the printing process with the two linoleum plates I had created. That way I could set the pressure on the press evenly without wearing out my metal and acrylic plates.

I put a stack of papers into the soaking bin, one at a time, ensuring each was wet. It sounds a bit silly, after all, put paper in water and it gets wet. But place a piece of paper in water and it floats, dry on one side. Put a stack in all at once and a number of faces won’t get wet. Be sure the paper is wet. Soaking the paper takes out the sizing and lets the fibers form to your plate, whether you are using block plates or intaglio. It enables a mild form of embossing which gives a hand-pulled print its character.

I used an old, glass shelf as an inking plate. Use something smooth and big enough to move the ink around. You only need a thin film of ink to make a print. Too much and there is a sticky texture to the print as you pull it off the plate, and some lines can be blurred. I use Speedball printing ink for block prints, as it is easy for me to get and inexpensive. I rolled the brayer about to get the ink on it evenly.

My problem at this point was getting the plate inked in a uniform fashion. I was using a larger plate with an image of a bird. It was one of my older plates, and I was worried that it had gotten wet and spotty along with the stack of linoleum that I had already thrown away. It had. The ink would not go on smoothly. It continued to look patchy no matter what I did. I ran it through a few times, but never did get a good image.

I moved on to the other linoleum plate. An image of a raven. I finally got the clue that the brayer was damaged somehow, not rolling well over the inking plate. I fiddled with it a bit more, then moved to my smaller brayer. The things you find out. The smaller brayer worked well, though I had to watch carefully that the narrow pathway of ink was smoothed out by subsequent rolling passes of the brayer.

While running the raven plate, I noticed it was not pressing evenly. One of the pressure gauges was considerably off of the other, making one wing different. So I tweaked and tweaked with an uninked plate until the embossing on the edges was consistent and marked the gauges with a sharpie. While doing this I discovered the bad news of the day: one of the pressure gauges was not right. It was supposed to be smoothly working with the bar of the press, but it was not attached well, whether through shipping damage or through some sort of assembly malfunction. Tweaking the pressure was tedious, but the linoleum was tougher than an intaglio plate and came out unscathed.

At that point I rechecked my technique with Manly, and reset my print blankets. I had them in the wrong order. I have three blankets. A thin, white wool blanket, or “catcher” lays over the art. It catches the sizing that is pressed out of the damp printing paper. It needs to be washed occasionally.  I have a thicker, white wool blanket, or “pusher” that helps to press down the damp paper into the plate when it runs through the press, creating the embossing. Over that is a thick, dark, stiff wool blanket that maintains pressure throughout the process and comes into contact with the rollers.

When reviewing my equipment needs at the end of February, I realized that my wool blankets had been nibbled on one end by bugs. Ordinarily that would be the end of that. And they are expensive. But I was not running large prints, so for now, I am using the good end of the blankets until I can afford new ones. Even small holes in a blanket can affect the pressure that is put on a print. A large dark area can show pinholes where the blanket had small gouges from bug infestations. Fine lines can be broken by the rice grain sized discrepancies in pressure.

When I bought my small press, I invested in a more expensive bed plate with extra length. It is a lighter weight plate rather than the usual steel, making it easier for me to manipulate on a long day in the studio. While my plates are limited by about 12-13 inches in width, giving me a paper size of about 14 inches, I can extend the length of one or more prints to 48 inches. So, in standard sizes I can work up to 12×16, or 12×48 in custom sizes. For now, that is plenty of space.

Just for the heck of it, I had cut up a sheet of the heavy, black printing paper. I rolled up a charcoal grey color with my block inks, and ran the raven through. Very subtle, but beautiful. The lines were a bit soft, so I eased up the pressure and added a bit more white to the ink. And a smidgen of blue. I ended up with about six or seven ‘ghost raven’ prints. Each one better than the last. I made a few rookie mistakes, not blotting my paper well, and moving the paper after I laid it on the plate.

First a piece of newsprint put down on the bed. Then the printing plate, laid as even to the sides as possible to make it easy to lay the paper down evenly. Usually, the longest edge is put up against the roller, so the pressure is placed on the plate as little as possible. Some plates can curl under the pressure of the rollers. I pulled paper from the soaking bin and blotted it carefully with newsprint until there were no shiny, wet spots visible. The shiny, wet areas can cause the inks to run, blurring the printing lines. I laid printing paper smoothly over the plate and added a sheet of newsprint to absorb some of the dampness and sizing. If the paper is crooked to the plate at this time, oh well. Picking it up to shift it around can cause ink to move about, especially in water-based block printing inks. Then the three blankets are laid over the whole stack.

I rotated the wheel arms smoothly. Stopping or changing speed can change the print, usually for the worse. Then I pulled back the blankets and tossed out the damp newsprint on top. I lifted the paper smoothly away from the plate.

Linoleum Block print

Ta Da!! A print. It’s a bit of a rush.

Fuss, fuss, fuss…..more fuss….and a print!!

Whew.

As I said, I ran a series of prints of the Shield Raven plate with blue/white ink and heavy, black paper. Then I ran some colored prints using black ink on my sampler of papers. Very nice.

I stopped for lunch. Each block print took about 10-15 minutes from fuss to finish. I got better as I went along, but still made a few errors. Blotting the paper is essential. Those un-blotted spots sneak in and suddenly a lovely line is blurred.

A big bowl of salad and some seafood dip with crackers. Is it enough to tide me over? At least I remembered to eat. I occasionally forget when I’m on a roll.

Now on to intaglio plates. I figured this would be tough. I was right. Starting out, the process took about 45 minutes. I think I have trimmed that, but it is still a fussy and detail oriented process.

First, with dry point, the etching ink comes out of the tube too thick. Didn’t know that. Seriously, I had gently padded the ink onto the zinc plate with unstarched cheesecloth, then carefully picked up a starched cheesecloth pad….and couldn’t get the excess ink to wipe off the plate.  Stop laughing, I was dead in my tracks.

So, I pulled out a small jar of linseed oil and mixed it into some of the ink still on the plate. Then dabbed the thinner ink on my inking pad and I tried moving the ink around on the plate. Sure enough, it started wiping off. Whew. Major hurdle jumped.

I started with red ochre so I could see what I was up to. I wiped first one direction, then another. The first wiping is done without pressure and is more to get the ink into the lines that off of the plate. Always be aware as you wipe that if you wipe along a line it tends to remove ink from the line. If you wipe across a line, it tends to put ink into the line.

I couldn’t seem to get the ink off the plate completely. And the ink showed streaks no matter how I wiped it. I worked with my hand, chalking as I went, but still, not quite right. Ah well, I said to my negative voice, print it and see how we go. We can always look at it again later and say, “good heavens, what was I thinking when I did that?”  So I printed it.

Two things seemed to be happening. One, the lines seemed uneven. Two, the ink did not seem evenly wiped. Neither was enough to keep me from being quite pleased that I had actually printed one. Woohoo!

The fourth printing of Border I

I did a few more. Still not quite happy with the wiping process. But still, I was learning as I went. I moved to black ink, and left some purposefully on the plate, creating a darker tone across the whole plate. Then I tried wiping more vigorously and was left with a fainter line.

I looked at my acrylic plates, with their complex lines, and found myself very intimidated. First because I had not yet done a plate so complicated, and second because I was sure the acrylic would be a different feel. I needed some more practice wiping the plates.

So, letting the prints for Shield Raven and Border I dry on my clothesline, I went to my collection of sketches and selected a small Celtic beastie. Using a smaller acrylic sheet, I made a quick printing plate with less investment of time.

I also went back to Manly to see if he had any tips. Turns out, he didn’t get all the ink completely off the plate either. After an initial wiping with the fabric, in two directions, a gentle wiping is done in small circles to smooth out the toning on the plate. Cool. I can do that.

It also seemed that my starched cheesecloth was too soft. It was pulling too much ink back out of the lines. So I dipped another batch of cheesecloth into straight liquid starch. It would dry by the time I was off work the next day and I’d have a few hours in the studio.

So, the next day, I worked with the zinc plate again, creating some better versions of Border I using the tips from Manly and my new cheesecloth. Ah, much nicer. Still not great, but definitely better. I did some gentle work with the small acrylic plate as well, and even summoned up the courage to print up one or two prints of the large Harvest Cross II plate.

Leviathan II; 5x7

Nothing can stop me now.

Muwahahahaha!

KJN

At the end of February, I started a zinc plate, using the diamond scriber. It was a simple knotwork border, 6×8. It gives me approximately a 4×6 space to work up an original drawing inside the border.

Zinc plate with Knotwork border: 6x8

The steel scriber from the engraving kit was easier to use, but the diamond scriber cut deeper, so I stuck with it. It occasionally stuttered and I had to carefully control curving lines. I fussed and puttered with it.

On the 12th of March, more from curiosity than focus, I picked up one of the clear acrylic plates, laid it over one of my more intricate Celtic cross patterns that I had designed for digital reproduction and I traced it onto the transparent acrylic plate with the steel scriber. I moved the acrylic plate to a sheet of black paper and went back over it more carefully with the scriber, pleased with how easy it was to make.

acrylic plate, 8x10

It should be noted at this point that if you use an acrylic sheet to make a plate, they are cheap and easy to use, but the design traced onto the plate will be reversed when you print it. I didn’t care on this one, because the Celtic cross had a fourfold symmetry. Nothing would look odd reversed. Letters are, of course, the most obvious reversal errors to make, but reversing a landscape can look odd too. Trace a design on tracing paper and flip it over to make it easy. Or reverse it in the computer and print it off reversed before putting it under the acrylic plate.

acrylic plate, 8x10

On the 15th and 16th of March, I had two days off in a row from my part time job. It was halfway through the month, and I needed to get to work. I gritted my teeth and got past the voice. On day one, I finished the zinc border and started on another border with an acrylic plate. I had been planning to get another zinc plate done, but found myself tied up with a bit more work than I expected on the 8×10 acrylic piece. I had picked a very involved spiral pattern, and had blocked out a space the size of an ATC, 3 ½ by 2 ½ inches, on the plate so I could draw an original piece inside the printed border later. The complex spirals included some areas I wanted black, so I went back over them with closely spaced diagonal lines.

There is a small tool called a ‘roulette’ which operates much like a tiny pizza cutter. The wheel has sharp points on it which leave lines of closely spaced dots. Other versions may create repetitive lines, or blocks of dots. The point is, that closely spaced dots or lines create areas that hold a lot of ink, and when printed they create solid spaces of black or whatever color ink you are using. I did not have the money to invest, so I went with a more time consuming option of layering fine lines with the scriber. I knew it was unlikely to be as even as the space created by a roulette, but I was willing to go with it. Telling the negative voice to shut up so I could get some work done.

Note that in the photos of the acrylic intaglio plates, the worked areas appear white. These are the areas that will hold ink, and become the color of the ink.

By the end of day one, I had my two older linoleum block print designs, a new zinc dry point border, and two larger and more complex, acrylic drypoint designs. I also had stiff hands.

Take THAT, negative Voice.

KJN

First of all, let me make it clear, that I have not had any formal training in printmaking other than a session during art class in high school where I learned to make linoleum block prints. I made Christmas cards as a fundraiser for high school band. So, there is no one to blame for my lack of experience or skill, or for the mistakes I make, except me. Feel free to comment if you feel I’ve made a specific mistake that your teacher warned you about…

Second, I have a number of books, all of which are well thumbed. And stained with a bit of ink at this stage. I will provide a list. What you should know, however, is that the most detailed book I’ve obtained so far is “Practical Guide to Etching and Other Intaglio Printmaking Techniques” by Manly Banister. I will refer to Manly many times. I’m sure he would be irritated with me, considering my screw ups, but he’s my mentor for this run through. I have already been pointed towards “The Complete Printmaker” book, and I will pick it up soon.

I had a very difficult time getting over the internal voice that said I couldn’t do this. I bought a lot of the equipment five years ago, and poked at it again during the Derrybawn Project. And still I didn’t do much with it. I may be a little less than fussy right now, when it comes to the results, but I needed to jump in before the voice talked me out of it again.

In 2007, I purchased a small 906 etching press, an extended phenolic bed plate and high quality wool press blankets giving me 12×36 space to print. I ordered Stonehenge printing papers and a large package of golden, artist linoleum sheets. I also purchased a small hand press, capable of making 8×10 prints, linoleum cutting tools and a selection of ‘easy cut‘ rubber plates of different brands. Somewhere in there, while reveling in a sale, I also mistakenly picked up a very nice selection of engraving burins instead of the wood carving tools I thought I bought. Instead of returning them, I bought a book on wood engraving and I bought a few small wood engraving blocks. Since I was quitting my day job that year, I stocked up while I still had the paychecks.

What I did manage to do that year was to create four block plates. Three were smaller: a Scythian stag, an abstracted bird, and a Celtic cross. The larger was a very nice piece called ’Raven Sun and Serpent Moon’ usually shorted to ’Raven sun and moon’. I ran a number of prints from each block on my hand press, as the rubber plates were too soft to handle the pressure of the bigger press without distorting.

But then I stopped. The prints did not sell well, and I ended up without the room to make prints as our house was renovated after the kitchen flooded. My studio became a catchall for kitchen stuff, and it was hard to work. I had room to make drawings on a board in my lap on the couch.

During the Derrybawn Project in 2010, I promised myself I would start in on printmaking again. I purchased a diamond tip scriber and two zinc plates. Money was tighter, so I didn’t go crazy. I also bought two acrylic plates. The Project took a different turn when I was asked to create plates for digital reproductions. Other than two linoleum plates of birds and two more small easy-cut plates, I didn’t produce anything for hand-pulling prints. The digital printing fell through and I was left with a large selection of black and white art, no money and a deep funk.

I took up a part-time job in 2011, and I pulled myself out of the funk with some experimentation in gelatin printmaking. Less intense and more free-flowing, I splashed a lot of color around and got some really good results. I also started plotting out some large landscape pieces, though I did not have the money for the supplies I wanted. By the end of 2011, I was promising myself to use only supplies on hand to do artwork, so the landscapes were put on hold, and I began experimenting with collage using only materials in my studio. It came around to the printmaking again, as I realized that I needed to use the equipment or sell it.

Finding that three of my original four plates were cracked, including my favorite Raven, I gave up on the easy-carve plates. I was having some health problems that affected my joints, so making linoleum blocks was a bit problematic with only old, dull linoleum cutting tools. I had to throw out the remaining golden linoleum sheets as they were water damaged and hard as a rock. I still had two linoleum plates that I had never printed, a small selection of zinc, wood and acrylic plates, the engraving tools, and the diamond scriber.

I had all the makings for dry point plates and engravings. I even had paper. But the negative voice kept at me, and it wasn’t until March of 2012 that I managed to get past it. It kept telling me how difficult it was to get good results, how I had never taken classes, how much more money I would have to invest, etc. etc.

All I needed was the fiddly, little bits. Manly listed everything I needed. Chalk, blotting paper, a bin to soak the printing paper, rags, a drying rack and … oh yes, etching ink. I had block printing ink, but dry point is an intaglio process, requiring a different ink.

A storage bin became a soaking bin. I put screws into the walls in the corner of my studio and strung up some clothesline. I bought clothespins. I found carpenter’s chalk and a box of rags at the Home Depot. Newsprint pads were on clearance at the local craft store. Etching ink was the most expensive thing I had to get. There were six pricing levels at the store, so I dug through the colors until I found two of the cheapest; a soft black and red ochre. Budget would drive my choices, but it was a guideline, not a hammer. Staying with the inexpensive series allowed me to pick two.

No voice of doubt could stop me now…..

KJN

This is the view of the headlands facing south from Bray Head towards Greystones.

View facing south from Bray Head

This is the view of the City of Bray from Bray Head. Facing back to the north.

View of Bray, facing back to the north.

The Cross at the top of Bray Head

Cross at the very top of Bray Head

A view of the Wicklow Mountains; facing to the south and west. This is a wider landscape view of the vertical picture posted on Irish Fireside with my article.

a wide angle of the picture posted on Irish Fireside

More travels and photos to come.

KJN

Gelatin Monoprinting is a way I use to get a break from the intense detail and technical challenge in the drawings and Celtic Design I love. The printing process is loose, and the results are easy to manipulate, but impossible to control. And the colors are beautiful.

Monoprinting means just one version of a print. Why do it for just one print? Try it and see. Each one is amazingly unique. Monoprinting can be done on many surfaces, with glass plates a popular choice. Gelatin Monoprinting uses a soft, gelatin plate which eventually deteriorates. I haven’t tried glass yet, but I’ll note the differences when I try it.

To start with the Gelatin process, pick up the unflavored gelatin at a store. Knox brand is the most prevalent in US stores, with packets in the box measured to 1/4 ounce each. If you are using another brand or buying in bulk, it takes an ounce of gelatin in 4 US cups of water to make a decent small plate. I use a 9×9 Pyrex baking pan for small prints, and it produces a nice, thick chunk of gel which is easily removed from the smooth surface.

I have also used 4 cups of gelatin mix poured in a large cookie sheet, leaving the gel in the pan and using it right off the surface for medium sized prints. My plates are limited by the size I can fit in my refrigerator.

To start:
STEP ONE: Place four packets or 1 ounce of gelatin powder into one cup of cold water to set for a minute.
TWO: Add 3 cups of boiling water and stir gently until the gelatin melts to a liquid state.
THREE: Pour into the mold you have chosen and let set in the refrigerator for 5-6 hours.

Yes, this is the exact instruction on the Knox brand box for making gel blocks with fruit juice. Except without the juice. It produces a large, rubbery block of gelatin. Pouring gelatin quickly results in bubbles. If you end up with unwanted amounts of bubbles on the surface of the gel, take the straight edge of a paper towel and draw it over the surface from one side to the other. It should draw up most of the bubbles and leave a smooth surface.

FOUR: As suggested by Betty Crocker, set the bottom of the mold in a bath of hot water for a few seconds, then unmold your gelatin creation onto a flat surface. I cover a drawing board with freezer paper or waxed paper and anticipate getting a bit messy. When I’m done, I pull up the paper, roll up the gel and paper, and ditch the whole mess in the garbage.

Onto the messy part….

When I first read about the process, from three or four other sources, I found the suggestion of using water-based printing ink. Good enough. Give it a try. Printing inks are mostly opaque, and produce a specific result. Transparent drawing inks create another. I have found that watercolor paper works very well. I have also used Bristol and some printing papers, though thinner papers don’t work as well for me. I also have had some very nice results from using textured Aquabord panels from Ampersand. I also use acrylic gessoed canvas, though the gesso can resist some of the thinner inks. My favorite surface to date is the absorbent panel gesso created by Art Boards over a wooden panel. That gets expensive, so start out with a selection of papers. Oil from your fingers can also cause some thinner inks to be resisted, so if you are going to work on a paper or canvas surface before printing, be sure to stay aware of how you touch the surface.

You can use cut out paper or stencils to create designs, blocking the ink from the surface of the plate, or blocking the ink from reaching the paper. Leaves, string and sponges can create textures. Roll the ink with a brayer, or just smear the ink around with your fingers. Cut the plate with a knife for lines which gather up more ink. Use a dull tool to make ragged lines. Wipe off ink. Use layers of opaque and transparent. The gelatin can be marked with something as simple as a stiff bristled paintbrush, though I’ve used forks and quilting templates as well.

Cut the plate into pieces and try using them to print. Then, after all that, throw away the mess and make another plate. I like to make two to begin the day. Draw something on the finished print, using the color as a background. Use acrylic gels, crayons and drawing inks to prepare a paper or canvas before printing.

To move from one color to another, especially when moving between contrasting colors, blot the first colors with absorbent paper or paper towels. Color blends add depth, but too much orange and green can get muddy. It is hard to actually wipe the gel surface, so blot instead. Lay a piece of paper on the plate and peel it off.

As the gelatin plate is used, it will add a bit of gelatin to the ink or paint you use, creating some different looks as you go. The plate will begin to fall apart, depending on how much damage you do to it in creating texture, and bits of gel can end up on your print. My suggestion is to wait until the paint is dry to remove bits of gel. A deteriorating plate can produce great effects with lines and gouges picking up colors differently.

Scrapbooking stores sell allllll sorts of inks, powders and papers to play with. They also sell stencils and adhesives. You can create papers to cut and past with this technique, and I first learned how to do it from some scrapbooking sources. Quilters will use this technique for coloring fabrics as well, utilizing fabric paints.

This isn’t a very technical explanation, so for those of you who want more info, I’ve included some links to some great sites. I prefer a loose and haphazard approach to this technique in order to indulge in pushing the color around.

http://harborview-arts.com/kathleen_garner/gelatin_printing.html

http://heatherthomasblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/exploring-gelatin-mono-printing.html

Gelatin Monoprint with Acrylic Gel

Gelatin Monoprint with grey crayon

Gelatin monoprint on Bristol

Gelatin Monoprint with India Ink

For me, the first decision was an unexpected one. I sketched a rough horizontal view of my subject, a landscape taken from Cairn H on Carnbane West. The landscape was meant to flow diagonally from the dark, open Cairn H tomb on the lower left, to the grey and misty peak of Carnbane East and Cairn T in the distance to the upper right. A cloudy sun would lighten a predominantly dark, morning sky, with the undersides of the clouds giving me some texture and helping to grey the distant landscapes with a bit of mistiness. A feeling that the tomb was open, and you were moving upward. Death as a part of the living landscape.

Cairn H, Carnbane West

Lots of horizontal with a gradual uplifting of diagonal lines to the right and some faint indications of trees and roads to keep you from wandering off the page.

And I really didn’t like it.

It reminded me of another scene, a more interesting scene, from a reference photo for a tomb atop a hill on Howth, near Dublin. I didn’t want it to remind me of Howth, I wanted it to be absolutely clear where I was.

So, at the rough, layout sketch stage, I was already starting over. What made Carnbane West so powerful for me?

There we go. Time to develop the three words for this piece that will keep me focused. First, my walk up the hills to Carnbane West was wreathed with mists and silence. The ‘famine rows’ cut horizontally into the sides of the hills to plant potatoes in the 1800s, tripped me up over and over again. My boots would catch them every time. I shall choose the word ‘bleak’ to cover the grey, February morning. Damp and raw. A word to work with the greying of distant peaks and the emphasis on monochrome, with only a hint of warmth.

Death seemed to rest here. The bones of a small creature were gradually disappearing into the ground, pale against dead grass. Usually the dampness would bring out a freshness of color in the air, but not today. Sometimes Irish weather will bring out a silvery, misty light of sun on fine rain, but not today. ‘Heavy’ might carry all the silent, ancient baggage I require. Heavy clouds, dark holes in the ground, damp and earthy smells.

As I reached the crest of the hill, an odd thing happened. I had been suffering from a case of Dublin’s infamous coal-smoke aggravated bronchitis for about two weeks before this trip. Nastiest case I ever had. And I refused to let the remnants of it cause me to lose out on getting to Carnbane West. A two mile hike uphill. At the crest of the hill, as we felt the freshening breezes, just as my chest loosened up, my deep breaths were snatched away from me. The air was moving upwards. Lightheaded, I stood and felt the odd currents. Due to the position of the site, air currents were pushing up along the wide face of the hill. What an odd effect. My hair lifted from the top of my ears, and hair on my forehead floated a bit. An electric sort of feel, enhanced by the heavy weight of the clouds and mists, pushing up.

So, with “Bleak” and “Heavy” I offer the word “Vertical” to the three-word tradition. Heavy and vertical. I re-drew my very rough draft to reflect the new orientation. I would start low, with a dark, open tomb. I would climb upward through the composition to the distant peak, lightly lit by a pale sun. The tombs were originally faced with quartz, so perhaps a few bright highlights would be in order.

Carnbane West, Cairn H

I had been studying composition and the way the eye sees about seven layers within a given landscape. Some of my reference photos from earlier in the day showed a lovely brightness just at the line of mountains, before the heavier clouds weighed down the sky. A method of defining and breaking up the grey midtones would be to have a line of lighter sky under the clouds, along the edge of the mountains. Perhaps a bit of toning in the gesso would help with that?

Bright white gesso seemed inappropriate, so I had planned to tone the gesso with grey graphite or another soft pigment. But with the thought of the colors coming through the graphite I was using to render the distant landscape, I considered a soft, yellow ochre to bring in the morning warmth behind the mists and clouds.

I had already decided to create this piece on a panel, so I could experiment with the technique of scratching back into the gesso to create sharp and fine detail for the copious amounts of long, dead grass. A gesso toned with yellow would prevent the scratches from getting too bright, but would lighten them within the shadows of darker ground.

A practice piece would be necessary before the project could be finalized.

I’ve collected a lot of information regarding the tombs of Loch Craobh over the years. I’ve compiled it here, and I’ll put a list of the books and links into a section of my growing bibliography, accessible through the ‘Page’ section at the top left of the current view.

I’ve found the Wikipedia entry for ‘Loughcrew’ a bit less than accurate, but it is a simple overview of the history of the area. Works by Martin Brennan and Elizabeth Twohig are far more interesting and comprehensive; and the online sites of www.Knowth.com and www.Carrowkeel.com (Martin Brennan) are more useful.

The tombs of Loch Craobh are ‘passage tombs’. They are also known as ‘passage mounds’ or ‘chambered tombs’. They consist of a passageway that leads to a central room with small radiating chambers, all of which is covered with a mound of earth. The oldest of these tombs in Ireland exist on the western side of the country, with gradually increasing sophistication and size evident in the examples as you move east to the massive collection of tombs in the Boyne Valley.

Through carbon dating and excavation of artifacts, it is believed that the oldest examples of passage tombs are those found in Co. Sligo at Carrowmore. Nearby, in the Bricklieve Mountains, lie the tombs of Carrowkeel, considered slightly more recent, with more sophisticated structures and even an early example of a ‘lightbox’ which allows sun into the inner chambers at specific times of the year. The lightbox is built into the entryway and controls the amount and angle of the sunlight entering the tomb. Excavations at Carrowmore and Carrowkeel continue to push the dates of these sites back, with some dates as early as 5400BC for sites at Carrowmore, and possibly 5800BC for a cairn at Croghan Hill in the Ox Mountains. (Martin Brennan)

Individual examples at Sheemoor and Sheebeag move into Leitrim and Longford to the east of the larger, multiple tomb complexes of Sligo. Loughcrew is the next major site, in Co. Meath, and further east is the larger complex of the Boyne Valley. Newgrange, located between Slane in Co. Meath and Drogheda in Co. Louth, is the most famous of the monuments there, though the mound nearby at Knowth is larger and has the longest passages for this kind of tomb in the world.

Passage tombs are not unique to Ireland. Maes Howe, built at Orkney, Scotland, and dated at roughly 3000BC; and Bryn Celli Ddu on Angelsey in Wales are just a few of the examples of nearby tombs in Britain. Highly decorated passage tombs are also found in Brittany

Loughcrew is dated within a span of 3000BC to 4000BC. The complex of structures seems to have crowned four peaks at one time, though only two of the hills currently show multiple tombs with recognizable structures intact. Sliabh na Cailli, or “The Mountain of the Hag” is the central peak, often referred to as Loughcrew itself, or Carnbane East. “Carnbane” comes from “Carn Ban” or “White Cairn” referring, it would seem, to the practice of putting white quartz over the mound of stone. The quartz pieces were usually the first of the stones taken from the cairns over the years, and few cairns have any of the glittering stones remaining.

Carnbane East contains a number of cairns and carved stones, with the largest monument, Cairn T, still roofed. Other tombs lay nearby, open to the sky, showing clearly in some cases, the passageways and chambers once roofed with stone. Passage tombs often have a ring of large stones around the base of the mound, known as a ‘kerb’ of stones. The only decorated kerbstone at Cairn T, known as the ‘Hag’s Chair’ has a flat top, and does look like a rough chair or bench.

To the east of Carnbane East, lies the peak at Patrickstown, where many of the tombs have been destroyed. Little remains for the casual visitor at this site, though some carved stones, including what is described as a ‘calendar stone’ lie here. The ruin of what may have been another large chambered tomb lies on Sliabh Rua, the Red Mountain, between Carnbane East and Carnbane West.

Carnbane West, on a peak roughly two miles from the car park near Carnbane East, is also referred to in many sources simply as “Carnbane”, especially when the sources refer to the central complex of tombs as “Sliabh na Cailli”. It also has a large number of tombs, with one large monument, Cairn L, still retaining its roof. Inside Cairn L there are seven radiating chambers and an interior standing stone, unique in Ireland.

Throughout the area, on all the peaks, and on other small knolls and hillsides, there are standing stones, other rings and later monuments of Iron Age and Norman times. Bone slips carved with Iron Age art have been found here, and a mound showing the remnants of a Norman motte, which may have been built on an older, Neolithic passage tomb monument which has not been yet been excavated. The large mound at Knowth shows the square foundation of a Norman fortification, and it is likely that the motte nearby may also rest on an older site.

The land was owned in more recent times by the Plunkett family, whose most notable member was St. Oliver Plunkett. Their family church still stands at the current site of Loughcrew Gardens. The family was displaced by Cromwellian forces and the lands given to the Naper family. The isolated nature of the property led the area to be used as a place of Catholic worship during Penal times when it was illegal to practice Catholicism. A Mass Rock, used as an altar for secretive Catholic services, still stands on the slopes of Sliabh na Cailli, though is no longer hidden by trees as it once was.

Currently, only Sliabh na Cailli, containing Carnbane East, is owned by the Irish government, and permission is required to visit any of the other parts of this complex. The central cairns, Cairn T and Cairn H, have padlocked gates to protect the contents from vandalism. Keys are required to gain access, and a torch/flashlight is essential to see any of the interior features. A key is available most days for Cairn T, from Loughcrew Gardens, though access to Cairn H and Carbane West should be carefully researched beforehand, and may not be available. Information is available for this large site through Loughcrew Gardens, and a visit to the Gardens is recommended in order to obtain books, maps and keys, as well as a cup of tea.

KJN

So, the new project actually started on 22 September, 2010 and runs until 21 March, 2011. The Derrybawn Project was successful in some ways but not so successful in others. I created more new pieces in the span of the project than I have ever done at one time before, but they are neither ready for sale nor headed to the printers yet.

But with a new project comes new goals. I will revisit the Derrybawn artwork soon, and document the t-shirts and prints when they are available.

The Horizons Project is primarily a collection of landscapes. They are part of my study of the concept of a “Place of Resurrection” as described in early Christian writings. A place the soul goes to, a place so part of you that you will wake up there at the sounding of the horn on the Day of Judgment. Each place I have selected for this project is important to me for many reasons. They are “Thin Places” or places where the veil between the visible and invisible worlds is thin. They are places with strong memories for me. I hope to bring out more than just lines in the distance as I create these works of art.

I’ll address aspects of each place as I go. I selected these places using some rather arbitrary criteria, so while all these places are special in some way, they are not the only places I find special. I also selected places in which the landscape was a large part of the experience. Thus Dysert O’Dea is not yet on my drawing board, as my reference photos are targeted towards the serenity of the carved faces in the church structure, and less about the surrounding countryside.

Another reason I did not include Dysert O’Dea is that I plan to complete an entire project solely on sites in the Burren later. I am also saving the sites of Glendalough for a full project. So, in general, I also was looking for places where my own, personal reference photos reflected interesting landscape opportunities.

I started with a list of places that mean something to me, whether through the beauty or history of a place, or because something happened to me there that brings the place to mind. I sifted through those sites to find appropriate landscape photos, sketches and impressions from my writing, to bring together as much as I could for each place. In the case of Knocknarae, my photos are quite poor, but my writings and sketches are very powerful, so I am not sure what the final result will be.

My six selections, some of which may possibly change as I go along, are the following:

The hilltop tombs of Loch Craobh, or Loughcrew in Co. Meath.
The entryway of the passage tomb Brynn Celli Ddu, on Angelsey in Wales.
The ruined temple to Poseidon at Sounion in Greece.
The view of the strand below Maeve’s Tomb from Knocknarae in Co. Sligo.
The view of the countryside from the caves of Kesh Corran, also in Co. Sligo.
The Wicklow Mountains near Bray, Co. Wicklow.

I will be posting my preliminary work for Loch Craobh soon.

I’ll post what I can of sketches and my own reference photos as I work. This Project is also about improving my skills in landscapes, and learning how to render distance and atmospheric effects. It is primarily a Project of drawing, with a bit of painting thrown in. I hope to use pencil, ink, silverpoint and watercolor in this six-month span. Perhaps some colored pencil.

I hope you stay with me, this should be fun.

KJN

Well, I’m trying it. I participate in a forum on Yahoo, ‘Drawing Together 2′ in which we discuss various drawing techniques among other things. A great group and a good way to get some advice and critique in a gentle format. Some of the artists who write the books I’ve been studying are on the forum. I wonder if they’ll autograph my books.

So in July I did my first ATC ever. They are a regulation 2.5 by 3.5 inches in size, fitting into a protective sleeve the size of a baseball card. I had to stay in my comfort zone for content, but definitely went outside my comfort zone in size. We submit our names to the organizer, and she pairs us with another artist. Names are hidden until the art arrives in the mail. The receiver of art then posts the ATC to the forum for everyone to enjoy and review.

Summer birds

It was fun, and I received a lovely little piece in return. My newest one, ATC number 2, is again a bit of comfort food for content, but much smaller than my standard, this time a pencil and ink sketch of a Gypsy Vanner draft horse named ‘Strega’.

ATC of Strega

Working small is a challenge. The temptation is to sacrifice detail as you begin to develop a composition. I specifically promised myself that I would work up something small with the same depth and attention to detail that I put into an 8×10. I have always loved the details in illuminated manuscripts of the Medieval period in Europe and the Middle East, so I may have to throw in a few attempts at illuminating the initials of the people with whom I am exchanging ATC’s.

I also need to move out of my comfort zone and try a bit of landscape art in miniature. Keeping an interesting composition at that size will be a challenge.

KJN