In a time of uncertainty, there have been places that I have crept to, again and again, to settle myself and calm my unravellings. These are the spaces I present in a series of multilayer reduction woodblocks – layers of monotone, slowly built up to achieve the quiet and permanence of the place.
Swirling moments in time, feeling disoriented and unsure. Translated to layered mind captures. A series of multiple block linocut prints. I started with the red/blue combo then moved to steel/rust. Then, because I loved how the layers were all visible, I made them properly so, with translucent ink and an additional layer.
An image is scratched or incised onto a plastic matrix, producing gouges and lines of various depth, and a burr that is pushed up as the plastic surface is displaced. The scratched plate is inked up by forcing the ink deep into the grooves and allowing it to catch on the burrs. This ink is printed onto damp paper, and has a typical velvety line that I love.
I have taken to spending more and more time in remote places, allowing the feel and fleeting light and shadows to slowly seep into me. To facilitate this, I resumed a habit of sitting alone and making watercolour sketches of what I see. These sketches have morphed into a series of woodblock prints in Western and Japanese style. Reduction and multiple block prints with a focus on how it feels, immersed in that moment.
A chain of thoughts that started with a poignant visit to my parents in Dullstroom, just before COVID-19 became a reality in our lives. My thoughts about our space, our lives, how we choose, how we interact and connect and how we deal with events that we cannot control. Single block linocut in pared-down black, using careful mark-making to produce detail and depth.
Artwork about appetite for life, personal attitude and how you claim your space. My superb (late) dog Batista, happens to be the symbol for this message. This series includes a stretched landscape in the drypoint intaglio technique, featuring simultaneous views of my favourite landmarks in the local Skilpadsvlei. The small reduction linocut pop-style prints each have a message about living life your own way.
A thought or message that I place on a cloth with free hand embroidery, so that the message can be passed onto someone who needs it or wants what it says. Words, symbols and marks in thread, on layers of botanically printed and dyed scraps, from my textile work.
A monotype print is one that is not duplicated. There is only one of each. I make monotype prints with both oil based and watercolour ink, building up the image on a sheet of plastic by either painting or wiping away the ink. The plate is printed onto damp paper. Sometimes, sufficient ink remains after the first print, to allow for a faint ghost to be printed too.
I have a fascination with trains and industrial machines and the role they play or used to play in our lives. A few pieces in the drypoint intaglio technique, mixed in with hand colouring and underlayers printed off the back end of vinyl. Life rushing by.
The idea that separation from a situation, without the overstimulation of the minutiae of domesticity and outside influence, allows for a reconsideration. No longer fed thoughts, instructions, and directions from society, the path is rediscovered, based on the instinct and intuition that nature and life experience provide. This series of reduction linocut prints, in translucent inks, is an exploration of abstract surface design based on the pattern of rural life from a small plane, flying over Tanzania.
An image is carved or cut into linoleum or a similar matrix. The remaining surface is inked up and printed onto paper. The simplicity of single block is deceptive, as the mark making needs to be skilled enough to provide detail and depth and story, in only one colour.
Carved into wood, the image is inked on the remaining surface. Layers are printed onto the same sheet of paper, off multiple blocks or one block that is carved away in a reductive technique. I work in both the Western and the Japanese Mokuhanga styles.