Printy, Printy!

Oh yes! An evening in the garage continuously listening to Them Crooked Vultures (b*****y brilliant!) and doing plenty of printing. With mixed results.  I started with the wood block of course:

I was quite sad but equally excited putting ink on the clean block. It’ll never be clean again… I started with raw Prussian Blue (I first used this on an etching last year and have developed an unhealthy fixation with it) and went on to add white and black, plus more blue as the evening progressed. I will buy some other colours soon, honest!

I only pulled five prints of this and was not terribly happy with the results. I’ve photographed the same word on each print to show variations in quality.

The first was under inked. I’d rather under- than over -ink at first and this was a predictable result for the first pull.

Second print was more solid with a few patchy areas indicating that I was getting the inking to a better level, if not consistency.

Third print was the best of the three, but not without it’s weak spots (don’t worry, you’ll see a full print later on in this post!)

Fourth print was patchy again, so I added some black to the inkplate

The last print was patchy again, but I was frustrated by my working conditions! (more of which to follow!)

This is a full image of print three. The colour is a bit variable because I photographed it rather than scanning as the ink is still a bit tacky. So what was I frustrated by?

Muck, really. The spot above is called a ‘hickey’ and is caused by a bit of muck getting onto the roller durink inking up. This creates the spot and pushes the paper away to create the halo effect. I am quite tolerant of this usually, because I accept that I am working in my garage and it not the purpose built studio I would like it to be! (Any donations welcome!) But in this case, I am frustrated because this hickey looks like a full stop.

This print is quite interesting as it looks a bit like a 1950′s horror movie title! The little white ‘nicks are where the top layer of the ply has split whilst cutting, which has not been visible on the block until now.

 

There are patchy areas in all of the prints which I think might be to do with the water-based inks on the wood, but some enquiries at college today also pointed towards my press blankets (thanks Mr. Setchell!) which are a just couple of sheets of cheap felt. These have been fine for most of what I’ve printed so far, but I think I shall have to invest in some ‘proper’ press blankets before I try again.

The little patch around the ‘AB’ of ‘abroad’ was puzzling – this is about 10mm diameter and on inspection of the block I found that the ink had not transferred in that patch but I couldn’t make out any variation in the surface.

I have left all of the ink on the block. Not cleaned it to be more precise. I mentioned before that I thought there may be an issue with the ink and the wood because it took/absorbed a lot of ink (much more than I would have expected) for these few pulls. I’m hoping that the ink will form a partial seal to the wood and with proper press blankets, I may be able to get some good quality prints…

I do like the under-inked effect though, especially where the ink gathers at the edge of the image to form lines.

The evening didn’t finish there though.

I pulled some prints of a block of wood…

and some leather, both of which will be scanned at a high-resolution and posted on flickr for use as textures in a week or so.

I also continued with my experimental postcard overprinting that I started last time. I intend to keep adding a new layer each time I print. I don’t know what these will end up like, but I’m enjoying seeing what happens…

In the spirit of the comments generated by the last type/print entry, what follows next could be described as printyporn, pornoprint, print-porno etc, but I’d like to get mine in first – ‘hand-relief printing!’  (ok then, that’s set the tone for the next batch of comments – but that’s ok – there are no complaint forms here!!) There is very little commentary to the images. Please enjoy them for what they are, but do clean up after yourselves…

Mmm, look at the serif on that!

This is what my secret santa got me this year; a little Mini block! By best mate Mick used to own and restore Minis in his younger days. I printed off a few of these with different bits of type (most are a bit messy like this, but I kind of like it!) and intend to send him a little pack for his birthday later this year! Don’t tell him.

Ah well. I’d better go back and see if the kids still recognise me…

I will have to revisit the woodblock though. I need to get a good print. I need to get a good print.

Wood block

I bought a piece of Japanese plywood with the aim of experimenting with woodcut printing. I only bought a smallish piece, just larger than A2 to practice with but have not done anything with it so far. It has a very smooth surface and is recommended as a starter block for beginners.  (Probably because it is cheap!)

Having got a little fatigued with designing the circus poster I wrote about recently, I decided to ’rest’ a little by doing a  little woodcutting. What started off as a little trial ended up being much more complicated as usual. A very wordy typographic piece actually. Why can’t I be fixated upon amoeba or something similarly simple instead of letterforms?

I have a whole file of quotes, quips, excerpts and bon mots, usually about design, typography, creativity and the like, and after an initial rummage I came across a wonderful statement by Beatrice Warde, an American typographer and academic originally typeset and printed in 1932 as a stand against the new modernist typographical styles and in defence of the power of printing. I immediately decided to use a non-classical font, something a bit more playful and unrestrained. The original was set in Eric Gill’s splendid Perpetua and is a fine example of what was considered as classical, civilised, refined and legible at the time. I even considered Comic Sans for a while, but decided that I couldn’t face it!

After a dig around some old font discs I came upon some 1960′s inspired stuff with all kinds of swashed pairs included. It seemed relatively simple too – no fine serifs and plenty of variations in line width etc.

A little while in Illustrator to get everything just right…

Followed by a trace using carbon paper…

Leaving a reversed line version on the wood.

The entire piece was cut using 10A scalpels. I used almost 5 packs in total!

Each letter was traced and the inner parts were removed by ‘digging’ out with either the scalpel or an awl.

After the first couple of lines I realised that I’d given myself a larger task than I’d originally planned!

This is the point where I had one more letter to cut. The jar contains all my used blades…

And here is the finished block. Well, I say finished, but there are a few little nicks that need filling before I go to print. Also, I’ve just noticed that I missed the leg of the R at the beginning (right hand side) of the third line down. I’ll do that too.

And finally, a shot of the block with a penny to show scale. Printing tomorrow!

Made In..

Half term often lures the Lestarets back up north to see our other types and last weekend was no different. On Sunday morning though, Mrs. Lestaret talked me into a trip into the city centre for a spot of shopping, to which I agreed on the condition that I did not have to go shopping. So off we went, me with my camera and Mrs. Lestaret with our eldest daughter Uppercase and the credit card. I don’t know who came out the best in that deal, but judging by the size and amount of Primark bags in the boot on the way home, I guess it would depend on whose angle you judged it from…

I had to park (No, I chose to – there are cheaper places to park in town, but I figured that this was worth the extra dosh. What? Did I really say that?) in ‘The Cheesegrater’ – a great brute of a concrete multistory, clad in angled aluminium panels. It has divided opinion in Sheffield but has won many architectural awards. I love it because it is so out of character with its surroundings. I like cities that reflect their cultural heritage, but tend to find that many of them end up as a pastiche of their former selves. I believe towns and cities should reflect each of their ages – that includes the odd 1960′s and 70′s concrete abortions too – it’s how we measure ourselves in our own era. Take the ‘Hole in the Road’ (Castle Square) for instance; a mini shopping area built into the subways under a major road junction, open to the elements in the centre, and on a slope, so when it rained the subways became impassable. (Many thought the stench of urine made it impassable, but that’s another story!) It even had a fish tank built into one of the walls and there were at least 10 tramps living in the darkest corners of the subways at any one time. Heralded as a breakthrough in urban planning when built, it is, alas, no more. The march of progress slows for no-one, so it will probably be no surprise that it has been filled in and now is a tram stop. Yes, a tram stop. Not a hover-tram, a laser guided particle re-aligning tram, or indeed, any other type of tram except one of those old fashioned things that run on rails and are powered by overhead cables. Ah, progress. But I digress. I just hope that we don’t get rid of all the character from our urban centres, just because they aren’t fashionable anymore.

Anyway, the cheesegrater is a remarkable building from any angle, and as I wandered towards the Winter Gardens and the Millenuim Galleries I spied another photo opportunity in front of one of half a dozen or so shiny metals balls gushing over with water. You can see the arch of the Winter gardens in the reflection if you squint funny.

I thought I’d try a self-portrait too. This wasn’t taken in the water distorted reflection on one of those metal balls, I do actually look as deformed as this!

I spent a diverting half hour in the Ruskin Gallery and was gladdened by this sign. You don’t get that much. I was taking another photograph of some etchings when I was politely accosted by a terribly friendly security bod and informed that, although I was allowed to molest several of the major artworks, I was not allowed to photograph them. I know, I know, I know the rules, but, well… I begged my apologies and continued to the Lovebytes exhibition next door.

There were some interesting exhibits, but the one that attracted the most attention was the Body Paint digital wall by Mehmet Akten. Its colours and textures changed depending on your movement and proximity, so encouraged normally rational, exhibition going people to do things like toss their hats across the room and so on. Wouldn’t catch me doing anything like that. I did take a sneeky picture though. Once more, the ever-so-friendly security bod apologised and reminded me of the no photography policy in the galleries. More apologies followed and went our separate ways, both happy in the understanding that we both clearly understood the policy.

Another piece I was drawn to was a dining table, set out with plain white crockery. A digital projector, directly overhead displayed varous patterns onto each of the plates, bowls and tureens. Whilst I stood there in quiet contemplation, an error window appeared in the centre of the table:

It was a temptation too great to resist. I thought I had been discreet, snapping off the lens cap as I unzipped my jacket and switching the LCD screen to the viewfinder so I didn’t display any tell-tale light. Well, my unbearably polite and apologetic personal security technician was digitally beamed into my vicinity, where clearly under some sort of ‘three strikes and you’re out’ policy, I was excorted to the doors and asked not to return, but reminded that that did not include the gift shop, where his colleagues would gladly divest me of lots of money for very little in return. I obliged on the first bit and found myself back outside in a crisp Northern light.

OK I deserved it. I’m not after sympathy or anything. Just recalling the moment is all. Ah well.

I was looking at the Winter Garden structure and admiring the tiny but elegant  brace that holds up the central wooden arches. On the left, not as elegant, but pleasingly similar is a supporting strut from a neighbouring building. On the right, a bloody ashtray. Come on people! I know we’ve banished smokers to the elements, but should we station them in front of all our lovely new (or old for that matter) buildings? Ok, I was feeling a little abashed as I (ahem) left the galleries and I, like everyone else I suppose, would have left without noticing this. It did begin to cloud my other observations of my old home town.

A walk around the town hall and I came upon this old police box – I had forgotten about this! But whose bright idea was it to paint it that colour? Did an old mental institution find some left over tins of ’1970′s Mental Hospital Green’ and donated them to our cash strapped Bobbies? Bloody Hell! You’d think that there was at least one bright spark in the Force who would say, you know, if we paint it dark blue like the Tardis, we could use this as a good PR tool. But no. Some Dilbert will have answered the phone and said “Oh yes? From the 1970′s you say? It is that vile and bilious shade of green isn’t it? Oh splendid! Send it ’round!” Like I said, I wasn’t in the greatest of moods.

I did feel like dialling 0 for Assistance though, but thought better of it…

I did get back into the swing of things a bit later though. I found this little corner around the back of Union Street. I love how the upper storeys of buildings get forgotten behind the shiny plastic facades and plate glass of the shops beneath…

And whilst waiting for Mrs. Lestaret and Uppercase to return I spied a section of ghostly graphics from a different era. Sandwiched between the plastic facades and plate glass (I know, point made!) and further disguised amongst the bus stops and street signs was the partially obsured legend “& Co.” I liked that. It made me forget my earlier mood. I returned home a much more happy chappy…

And yes, I decided to play about with the settings on my camera, and push things a little further in PhotoShop. B&W is still cool…

Additional bit – I was just about to post this entry and came across this blog on my tag surfer that reference this post on the AIGA website. Not exactly related, but I thought it had some relevance here…

Roll Up!

I’m designing a poster inspired by the lyrics to Tom Wait’s The Circus. If you’re not familiar with Waits music or style, go here and here . I can’t guarantee you’ll like what you hear – not many do- it’s an acquired taste (or a bloody racket if you ask Mrs. Lestaret!) but give it a go, because even if you don’t like the voice, you might like the lyrics. It’s one of those tracks of his that is spoken rather than sung, and lays out a tale within a tale, introducing quirky and dishevelled characters against a backdrop of wasted and used-up Americana. Have a listen to the track here, with an unofficial video inspired by the song…

I have been toying with the idea of a series of prints based on Waits characters for a while now, but I have struggled to find a start and a style to work with. At the moment all I have are rough sketches in various notebooks, but I’m fairly sure I’ll revisit these at some point. It was whilst I was listening to Wait’s latest live CD Glitter & Doom for the millionth time (ok, almost every evening whilst doing the washing up)  that I decided upon a circus poster – one of the old traditional ones – that promoted the circus from the song, with visual references to the characters.

I have been trawling the internet for research and there are some excellent websites full of great quality images – I’m not going to list them all here, but  google up ‘circus posters’ and follow your nose!

I intend to produce it as a three colour linocut, about 500 x 260mm, and am currently planning it using using my ‘right-hand’ software Adobe Illustrator. The image used for the header of this post gives an idea of the direction I’m heading. It’s about three quarters complete now, and I hope to begin cutting the blocks soon. Expect a few more posts as I get going, but I don’t think I’ll be printing this one before the summer; it’s about the most ambitious linocut I’ve ever done! I did a large scale single colour linocut back in 1991 for The Sylvanus Trust – 1480x240mm in six sections:

This is quite big for a linocut, but it is only one colour. A click on the image will enlarge it a bit, but nothing like to scale. The circus poster will be pretty tight register too. I don’t imagine for one minute that it will be without it’s fair share of difficulties. Indeed, I expect to be registering somewhere in the mid 290′s:

We’ll see…

The Girl In The Spotlight CD

Jon Lawrence has recorded a new CD, a little different from his more recent rootsy/rock stuff; this time, more formal, romantic and wistful. Jon came to me for a cover/package design with some clear ideas about where this could start from, namely those romantic paintings of aristocratic lovers and dancers by Jack Vettriano , black and white photographs of illicit lovers against a backdrop of a rainy Paris etc.

These are often seen as quite cheesy and schmaltzy images, but Jon also wanted to add a sense of mystery which I interpreted as unfamiliarity and a sense of unease, possible voyeuristic tendencies and secret inamorata. The first rough recordings confirmed some of the melancholia I expected in a set of love (or longing for love) songs, but also I began to understand Jons’ nod towards Vettriano ; these songs reference the qualities associated with the Art Deco era, with elegant, piano-led ballads, with period accompaniment on a crystal clear guitar and a lazy midnight sax. I was wrong about the sense of unease, but think I had a good handle on the rest.

To begin with, we needed to shoot some new images of Jon for inclusion in the booklet, as well as some of an elegant woman for the front cover; the eponymous ‘girl in the spotlight.’ I shot 49 images of Jon in total, all lit with a single spotlight (what else?)

These are a sample of the general direction of the shoot, and there were  many more that were blurred (intentionally as well as unintentionally!) very dark, or of the piano and Jon’s hands tickling the ivories. The model Jon had in mind was not available for this shoot and rescheduled, so I set to work with internet sourced imagery to get the ball rolling. I gave Jon a number of design approaches to get an early dialogue going:

After exploring some of the images which were all intended to be used monochrome, or close to, I also decided to pitch a couple of designs with Jon on the cover. Although he was quite certain tha he wanted a particular female model for the cover, I decided to try out a couple of general design approaches with them. He was immediately taken with the typography on the last design (bottom right) and suggested that the image was a good ‘back cover’ shot. The very slight sepia discolouration was generally approved of, as were the straight mono designs.  

I followed this with a shoot with the lovely Helen, who is not a ‘proper’ model, but did a stirling job for Jon here. She was very apprehensive about doing this, and obviously nervous, but as the shoot progressed, she relaxed and got into the spirit of things. 54 images were shot in total, a selection showing the direction below. I have been asked to show ‘all the photos’ but will sadly decline to preserve the honour of a lady!  Again, all these images were intended to be used monochrome, or with modifications.

The images were all processed through PhotoShop CS4 - greyscale and duotones with a pale beige supporting colour overlayed. A range of examples were experimented with, as were typographic variations. The typeface was one of about 5 chosen originally for their Art Deco qualities (without being overtly Deco). This is ITC Novarese:

It is a visually geometric face, with very sharp but delicate serifs with a rather flamboyant (by comparison to the roman) italic, as well as four good weights. By my reckoning, I last used this typeface in 1989…

You can see the general direction I was heading in here. All of the images have been distressed slightly; a dash of film grain here and there to begin to ‘break up’ the tones. I also added in a negative/slide frame to one or two images, to suggest a more remote relationship with the subject; the scrutinising of images puts the viewer in a much more deliberate voyeuristic context.

Jon was really happy with these and gave the go-ahead to apply this styling to the whole CD. Here are the final proofs beginning with the cover:

Pages 2 & 3:

Pages 4 & 5:

Pages 5 & 7 (centre spread):

Pages 8 & 9

Pages 10 & 11:

Page 12. This the back page of the booklet and the left hand ‘page’ as you open the CD case:

And the back cover:

And finally, the on-body design. Originally, there was another shot of Helen here, but both Jon and I thought it was a little too much, and that an image of Jon himself should be here.

Jons response to these was “best designs yet!” I’m happy with that as I have really enjoyed this project. It has been relatively straightforward in that nothing went dramatically wrong and there were no major changes or unforseen problems to solve, which doesn’t happen very often with any design job.  

So go buy one! It will make a great gift for valentines day – buy your copy here.

Hot Metal!

Well, lukewarm anyway! I did a little printing again this weekend using some new metal type I had bought last week. I didn’t intend to do anything ambitious, just a little typesetting and proofing, just to get back into the swing of things; it was as a student in 1987 when I last handled metal type properly. I must say, I didn’t enjoy it very much. Even then, it seemed out of it’s time against the photomechanical typesetting operations that were prevalent back in the day. Apple were just making proper headway into colleges after taking hold within the design industry just a few years earlier, and I even I thought that was just a fad!

Ah, enough reminiscing! The brand new type came beautifully (functionally) packaged with a hand written label. I couldn’t help taking it into college the day after it arrived – mainly to show it off in its pack, all nice and clean! Sad I know, but look:

With not a millimetre to spare! I think this has a beauty of its own. Not in an artistic sense, but in the precision of it’s manufacture and its shiny newness, in anticipation of its inky future. Ok, here are the close-ups  I guess you expect from me now!

These full stops print just a fraction of a millimeter. In this image, they look a little like silver ingots. Or maybe not, but they are pretty cool. I guess this is just a bit of typo-porn for those of us who appreciate, ahem, specialist tastes!

I spent a couple of hours (!) setting a few lines. I had forgotten just how fiddly and frustrating this is. Just imagine how many people were working in the print industry, their years of apprenticeship training and the speed they eventually worked at! It truly boggles the mind. Here’s a shot of my workspace on completion.

On the right is my composing stick, generously donated by Christian and my trusty tweezers – I couldn’t pick up and place individual pieces!

This shot above is now my screen saver!

So what does it say? It’s a line from a book by one of my favourite authors Haruki Murakami and I just thought it would make a good first example of typesetting on the blog! Plus, it’s quite funny and a bit surreal.

Unfortunately I didn’t get many good prints. I was either over-inking, over-pressing, or both. I smudged them, half printed them, dropped them – the air was a shade bluer than the ink I used here, which was a mix of Prussian Blue and Opaque White Caligo waterbased inks. This print was to test the opacity of the ink on a previously rolled out black base.

You can see just how much pressure I used for this one – you can even read it from the back! I need to make a holding platform to support the paper next time (like I did for the last one - duh!) to prevent it from sliding off the type as I lay it over. I should be able to control the pressure a bit more too.

I also printed off a few woodtype prints using the blue ink, this time with a little more success. Again, just a few postcards, but when I’ve got the metal type printing better, I’ll overprint these with the Murakami excerpt in black.

This is a lovely print, lightly pressed and revealing the diagonal grain on the ‘R’ and the slightly odd shape of the lower part of the counter space of the ‘D:’

This is the cleaned up type. Sometimes when the gain is visible on the face it doesn’t print. I’m glad this does. It looks more ‘wood-typey’ I guess.

I picked up another letterpress block in Portobello market last weekend, this old post card standard. I thought it would be nice to letterpress my own postcards with this period design. It is a lovely thing in itself:

There are machining marks where the surface has been ground away by hand. But how does it print? Again, I didn’t have a great deal of luck getting the inking and pressure right, but got a decent enough impression to evaluate:

This is inked up ok, but over-pressed, but the detail prints clearly:

Like I said at the start, this was not intended to be a creative endeavour, just a little typesetting and paying around on the press. again, I’ve learned a lot about the techniques I need to use to get better results from the metal type and blocks, that my new inks mix well, and the opaque white is really opaque!

There will be another post soon of some ceramic pieces that have been recently fired, as well as some lino and wood cut printing as well. Keep tuning in, and if you get a moment, send me a lie…

The Whole Truth

Over the Christmas holiday I made a pair of small books from antique paper, and had the first use of my new wooden type on the cover. You can see how they were made here in a stage-by-stage entry.

I made two – one to develop further and one to give away in exchange for a lie. I promised to choose one and award the winner about now, but unfortunately I don’t have many to choose from. Just two actually (thankyou!)

   

Normally, I would just say ‘what the heck’ and choose one and send off the book, but, as I said before, I made one to develop further in to enter it into a book arts competition in May later this year. I intend to fill it with lies – real ones – good honest, truthful lies if there is such a thing. I would like the book to be a repository for ‘owning up to past misdemeanors’ and ‘clearing out of unwanted guilty baggage.’ It is important that the lies are real.

So I will appeal again. Please send your lies either as responses to this post, or email me direct if you are uncomfortable publishing on the web. You can even send in your lies anonymously (Hotmail accounts are easily set up!) but if an anonymous entry wins, you will have to contact me again for mailing details.

Please note, that all entries that  included in the book will be anonymous – and anything sent to me direct will be kept only until the book is complete – all emails will be deleted.

Portobello Providence

I have just spent a very diverting weekend in London. After attending the Design For Music Conference at St.Bride’s Library (more of which another time) I met up with my good friend Christian for a catch-up and some expensive lager. On a slightly blurry morning after, in search of a good breakfast and some highly medicinal coffee, we headed out towards the legendary Portobello Market. It was heaving with tourists, fashionistas and, quite possibly, a few locals; but it was really difficult to tell. A good rummage around lots of vintage stuff and tat was had by us both and a small addition to my printing paraphernalia was acquired (to be revealed later!)

In the midst of all this, with stomachs stretched taut like a couple of pregnant hippos, we waddled onwards in search of the fabled coffee. In the middle of all the hubbub, Christian stooped to pick up something from the floor, which turned out to be the tiny Polaroid photo shown above. It is a bit scuffed from spending some time on the ground and was still developing – I thought it was an old photo that had faded but as I looked up I saw the buildings further up the road. We were in the opposite direction from where the shot was originally taken, so we headed off for a better look. Sure enough, we located the exact spot that it must have been taken, but neither of us could get a similar wide angle shot with our cameras. Christian suggested to try for a shot with the original photo held up in the right place, but again, I couldn’t get the angle right. Below is a look at the photo from the same viewpoint:

And the best shot I could get to replicate the original :

It turned out that the Polaroid was probably taken a few minutes before we stumbled upon it – the cars – even though you can see in my shot, were the same.

Ok, so this is not groundbreaking stuff, but maybe it is just a little moment to consider one or two of the vagaries of life; the coincidence of this particular ‘lost and found,’ that maybe we were meant to find this photo. Maybe it was left there for us. Maybe someone is looking for it. I don’t know, but like it anyway.

Keep it safe Christian - there might be a reason why you felt compelled to pick it up and hold on to it…

ADDITIONAL

See the comments…

Reading List

The Crimson Petal And The White by Michael Faber
The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón

And just beginning

Incompetence by Rob Grant

Playlist

Self Medication by The Slackers
Real Gone by Tom Waits
As The Twilight Crane Dreams In Colour by Alexander Turnquist
Take No Prisoners by Motörhead
The Trojan Rock Steady Box Set
Two Tone Army by The Toasters
Henry May Long by Max Richter
Worlds Apart by The Sub-Humans
Oolooloo by The Pietasters
And In The Endless Pause There Came The Sound Of Bees by Jóhann Jóhannsson
Dirty Reggae by The Aggrolites
Inflammable Material by Stiff Little Fingers
The Baby & The Satellite by Micah P. Hinson
Cartography and Chiaroscuro by Arve Henricksen
Alphabet 1968 by Black To Comm
Reasons to Be Cheerful by Ian Dury and the Blockheads