1.
Printmaking: a digital perspective
2. Some thoughts on IT in 2001: In the arts ... and beyond
Dr.
John Antoine Labadie
Director, Media Integration Project
Art Department
University of North Carolina at Pembroke
(Editor’s note: Is digital art screen-oriented or print-oriented? The
question bedevils
the digital artist and critic. Some artists create solely for the screen (or
the Web),
some solely for output devices (i.e., printers and plotters), and some artists
create
for both screen and print. Here Professor Labadie undertakes to explore the
history and
practice of the printmaking process.)
Printmaking: a digital perspective
Two basic printmaking questions of today:
1. Is that is an ‘Original Print’?
2. How has printmaking changed with the use of digital technologies?
Introduction
A note about this essay: it is meant to be an overview of materials gathered
in response to these questions and, relative to what could be constructed
as a response, introductory and, perhaps, relatively cursory in nature.
In terms of material covered, much of what is discussed here involves the
construction of a basic definition of printmaking as is has been traditionally
taught. In the end a comparison is made with digital printmaking, which
I will operationally define as the making of prints through the interface
of a digital computer and a peripheral device that outputs an image.
This two-part question has probably been asked of or discussed by nearly everyone
who is currently involved in the making of fine art prints. In reorganizing
my teaching files recently I came across an interesting folder of information
that held several attempts to answer the question(s) posed in the title of
this piece. One of the items, published in 1963, was written by D. Z.
Meilach and entitled “Printmaking.” It was one of the “Selected
Pitman $1.00 Art Books” and was written and illustrated in a style so
as to introduce the reader to the world of traditional printmaking in forty-seven
information-packed pages. After reviewing this text and cross-checking
Meilach’s work with several other of several introductory texts on traditional
printmaking I can affirm that what is shared here is solid, well-grounded
information. That having been said, let’s get back to the Pitman Press
text. This basic literature was developed for sharing with interested avocation
adult artists or introductory college level students prior to the development
of digital printmaking. After looking over this slim volume I found
a number of the issues reviewed in this pre-digital teaching aide still relevant
today in helping audiences deal with the questions that drive this essay.
Part I. The question: “Is that is an ‘original’ print?”
In order to begin in a clearly understood place let me share the definition
of the term “print” as it is offered by Meilach when she writes
that, ”... man discovered that when color was applied to a raised surface
and pressed against another surface, a print of the original design remained.”
By this author’s accounting a print is something that results when a
primary surface has transferrable material (ink, paint, etc,) applied to it
which is then transferred over to secondary surface (rock, skin, paper, etc.)
The secondary surface is the print.
On the history of printmaking she also writes, “the origin of printmaking
has not been positively identified. We know it was used by the ancient
Egyptians, the Chinese, and later the Japanese. Centuries ago, a hand-carved
relief design on a wood block was the only method available for the reproduction
of a picture. Relief printing for textile designs was used in early
Medieval times in Western Europe. In the thirteenth century the wood
block print had become commonplace for printing greeting cards, book plates,
calendars and playing cards.” Making prints has been something people
in Western culture have done for a very long time. But what is the difference
between a reproduction and an original print ... that is to say, an “original”
work of print art?
As to what constitutes a print, Meilach’s introductory remarks presage
a very open-ended definition of printmaking. For example, “printing
principles are essentially the same today as they were centuries ago.
Between the simple hand stamp and the elaborate etching press, however, experimentation
with modern materials has brought about myriad techniques for making original
prints. The proof of the success of any particular method is in the quality
of the final print.” Here we seem to have support for a continually
evolving field of art production called “printmaking” that encompasses
the new while cherishing the older ways of working. Still, there are many
question to pose and ponder.
Regarding question number 1. What is an ‘Original Print’?
A good place to begin is with the concept of “original “ and
what this term implies. The “Webster’s Unabridged” dictionary
tells me that the root word here is “origin” which is a noun and
that this term, by definition, has nine current levels of use. I will
share the first four: 1. something from which anything arises or is derived;
source; fountainhead: to follow a stream to its origin. 2. rise or derivation
from a particular source: the origin of a word. 3. the first stage of existence;
beginning: the origin of Quakerism in America. 4. ancestry, parentage, extraction:
to be of Scottish origin. Seems clear enough.
Origin means the starting point of something.
Alright. Now onto “original” for some clarification
there. The same unabridged dictionary lists the term original as an
adjective and lists twelve levels of meaning currently considered to be in
use. Here also are the first four definitions: 1. belonging or pertaining
to the origin or beginning of something, or to a thing at its beginning: the
book still has its original binding. 2. New; fresh; inventive; novel: an original
way of advertising. 3. arising or proceeding independently of anything else:
an original view of history. 4. capable of or given to thinking or acting
in an independent, creative, or individual manner: an original thinker.
These definitions seem to be somewhat elastic and less clear than one might
have hoped. Original seems to imply being associated with the beginning
of something and/or perhaps even something that is considered a starting point
itself.
Now I’m going to narrow down the focus of this defining process and look
at the form of art traditionally termed printmaking. Here is the definition
of the term “original” provided by the art teacher from the 1960's:
“An original print is an image on paper or similar material made by one
of more the processes used by fine arts print makers. Many of these
processes have been adapted from the commercial printmaking industry. Original
prints are those made by or under the direct supervision of the artist who
is intending to make art works in the form of prints. An original print can
be done as a ‘monotype’ (one of a kind) or as an edition of limited
size. A‘print record’ is commonly kept by fine artists during
the printmaking process which can then serve as a record of all phases of
the making of an edition.” This definition would seem to exclude
objects made by some form of reproduction or imitation of the work first produced
by the artist’s hand. (Although less valued for various reasons, copies
and reproductions have had tremendous impact on our experience, reaching greater
audience than originals ever could. But that is a subject for another essay
altogether.)
Author Meilach goes even further to provide a definition of an original print
that includes the deeply psychological, intellectual issue of one’s intentionality.
For example, “The artist’s intention to create an original print
is the key to the ‘originality’ of a finished work. For example,
if an artist first executes a watercolor, then the resultant image is copied
over by a technician as a woodcut, the result is not an ‘original’
but merely a reproduction; a copy of an original work.” An artist
must be after an original work to make an original work ... copies will not
do. Plainly, a reproduction or copy cannot, then, be termed an original
print. In my experience most persons involved in printmaking would be
very supportive of such an exclusive definition.
It seems that, with a little assistance, Meilach’s definition of the
term “original” (as it refers to printmaking) can be qualified as
follows: 1. Any product considered to be an authentic example of the work
done by the mind and hand of an artist. 2. A product considered to be
the first of its type; preceding all others. In this sense, it may refer to
a prototype, a model after which other works are made; in this case each subsequent
version bears great similarity to the first. In this way an artist’s
proof is made so that it can serve as the model for an edition of multiple
originals. 3. The artist must intend for the work to be a novel and personally
expressive statement in a particular media (or combination thereof) and have
direct involvement in the manipulation of the media and responsibility for
the resultant art product. For example, the artist transferred her pencil
drawing to a wood block and, after working the block, pulled a black ink edition
of ten of her original images on rice paper.
Even so, in my experience of over twenty years of teaching and more than thirty
years of being involved in art schools, I have found that there is (practically)
no definition of any art term that will be unilaterally agreeable to all parties.
That having been said, I will let this heavily qualified definition of “original”
stand for now and move on a bit.
But what is a print anyway? What about the processes of making a print?
And how does one keep track of what is done along the path of making such
art? Again, let me return to the print making text from nearly 40 years ago
and then invoke historical evidence here.
As to what constitutes a print, Meilach’s introductory remarks presage
a very open-ended definition of printmaking. For example, “printing
principles are essentially the same today as they were centuries ago.
Between the simple hand stamp and the elaborate etching press, however, experimentation
with modern materials has brought about myriad techniques for making original
prints. The proof of the success of any particular method is in the quality
of the final print.” Here we seem to have support for a continually
evolving field of art production called “printmaking” that encompasses
the new while cherishing the older ways of working. Still, there are many
question to pose and ponder. I vividly recall one of the first times
I was challenged by the myriad varieties of prints and printmaking techniques.
In 1969 I first studied printmaking was at college-level art institute.
I was awestruck at the possibilities in that studio: etching, engraving, wood
block, aquatint, drypoint, serigraphy and linocut prints were all offered
as processes we could study. After class had begun, to my great disappointment
one of the first things we were introduced to was not a tool or an ink ...
not even some exotic paper. It was the “print documentation”
record. In this simple, one-page document was the complete listing of
the history of an art work.
My paperwork from that class has long since vanished. In order to fill
this information gap so I went to my colleague, Professor Ralph Steeds
www.uncp.edu/home/steeds,
in our University of North Carolina at Pembroke Art Department, who practices
and teaches traditional printmaking and asked to review a copy of a “print
documentation record” from one of his off-campus printing session at
an atelier (a master printer’s printmaking workshop). From the
top drawer of his file cabinet he pulled a single sheet of paper with the
logo of “Winstone Press” (now closed I am told) and dated 1991.
Here is what was recorded on the form: artist, title of work, size, paper,
dates, hand printed by, location of stamps or chops (Winstone chop and printer’s
chop), location of signature, explicit description of technique(s), documentation
of the edition (record of printing), record of cancellation, artist’s
signature, publisher’s signature, printer’s signature. To say the
least, the form is densely packed with information of many types. A form similar
to this is commonly utilized among professional printmakers who practice traditional
techniques and should be available with the purchase of any well-documented
original print from a reputable gallery.
One of the most significant sections of this document is the “documentation
of the edition” in that it provides, by specific number produced, an
accounting of all phases of the work produced in developing an edition. The
print record is made to show, in significant detail, the steps involved in
producing the edition as the process is moved from ideation through production.
After the edition has been produced the prints must be signed and numbered.
The common terminology used in the signing and numbering phase of producing
an edition is as follows:
1. The “trial proof” or proofs (written as “TP”)
which are traditionally the first series of test prints the artist or printer
makes as the print progresses toward the final work. There can be many trial
proofs made including color trial proofs (written as “CTP”)
or even state proofs. There are many variations of trial proofs and proof
markings.
2. The “Bon a’ Trier” (written as “BAT”) is
made to signify for the printer that the artist has approved this state as
a guide to completing the edition under the supervision of the artist.
If the artist is doing the printing the term used is artist’s proof (written
as “AP”). Traditionally this is the last print made prior
to the pulling of the edition. The image, color, paper, or ink should not
be changed after the print marked “AP” is pulled and signed as such.
The “AP” image may function as the printing or press guide.
3. The “Presentation Proof” prints which are sometimes pulled
on special occasions, either before of after the edition, and are later inscribed
by the artist to a friend or collaborator. These images are identical to the
edition but are not designated as part of the group of numbered prints.
4. The “numbered edition” (written as X/Y ... where X stands
for the number of the print and Y for the number of total prints, as in 3/25
which can be read as “number 3 of 25 prints in this edition.”).
Here is where the prints are signed or designated as proofs of some description.
Careful record keeping during the printing process is necessary so that accuracy
of these designations can be assured. Numbered prints, also sometimes
called impressions, are marked from the lowest number to the highest with
1/25 through 25/25 covering an entire numbered edition of 25 prints. All numbered
impressions should be as close to the “BAT” or “AP” prints
as possible. Traditionally it is considered a matter of personal integrity
and artistic tradition that these numbers are correct.
5. The “cancellation proof” is the record made after the full
edition has been printed in order to provide evidence that defacement or permanent
alteration of the image or print matrix (substrate) has been accomplished.
Most often a single cancellation proof is made which clearly reveals that
the printing image has been permanently altered and that no further impressions
identical with the edition can be taken from it. Furthermore, at this
point all unsigned, or unused images resulting form the proofing and edition
process are traditionally destroyed as completely as possible.
6. The “Chop” or “Blind Stamp” is an ancient way
of identifying who was involved in making a print. These
unique stamps are applied by the printer or the print shop (atelier) after
the impressions have been numbered. These chops identify the artist,
printer and/or the shop where the edition was produced. All of
this information is listed, with the number of each type of proof, on the
print record which is then signed by the artist, printers and
sometimes the publisher after step number “6" above has been accomplished.
Before moving on let’s take a brief look at what constitutes printmaking
practice in traditional printmaking. In this way it will, perhaps, be
more clear how the traditional in printmaking has fed the new age of digital
printmaking. Here is a description, from D. Z. Meilach, of the basic
categories of printmaking in the pre-digital era. I have also added
some information to clarify how these processes differ from one another.
Type 1. Intaglio/etching • The collective term for several graphic processes
in which prints are made from ink trapped in the grooves in an incised (cut
into) metal plate. Zinc and copper are the most common metals although aluminum
and steel are also used. Etchings and engravings are the most typical
examples. Paper money is the most commonly seen example of engraving.
Here the area that prints is what is below the surface of the plate; those
cuts that have been made by the artist by hand and/or by acids. The
type of press most commonly used in these processes is an “etching”
(or clothes wringer) where a mechanism pulls the plate, resting on a bed (a
lifter), through a press which then places down force on the plate transferring
the ink to the paper. In addition to the plate, basic tools include: etching
needles and burins (to make marks), acids (to cut) and grounds (to protect
the plate).
Type 2. Planographic • A process for printing from a smooth (unaltered)
surface. Some form of ink is applied to and then lifted from the smooth surface
of the stone, metal, glass or plastic plate. Lithography and offset are both
planographic printing processes. Both these process are commonly used
for producing printed materials form newspapers to magazines. Here the area
that prints is what was drawn (or placed) on the surface. The most common
type of press is a “litho” press where a mechanism that pulls the
plate, resting on a bed (a lifter), through a press which then places sliding
or scraping pressure on the plate transferring the ink to the paper.
In addition to a smooth working surface, basic tools include: Litho crayons,
tusche (for making marks) and litho rubbing ink.
Type 3. Stencil • In this process stiff paper (or other sheet material)
with a design cut into it. Ink or paint forced through the design openings
will produce a print on a flat surface placed beneath. Also, the image produced,
and the process of making it. Serigraphy (aka: silkscreen) is the most common
example of this process. Here the area that prints is any open part of the
stencil. Serigraphs made for fine arts purposes are commonly had screened
rather than machine screened. The most commonly used method used in
this process is a hinged screen through which the artist forces the silkscreen
inks. Generally speaking, there is a separate stencil for each color
in a silkscreen print. In addition to the silk and the stenciling material,
basic tools include: squeegee (to spread ink), glue and tusche (to block out
the screen).
Type 4. Relief printing • Relief printing methods in which a block
of wood, linoleum or some other material's surface is carved so that an image
can be printed from it -- areas which are not carved receive ink which transfers
to another surface when the block is pressed against it. Two of the more common
examples of this process are the woodcut and the linoleum cut.
Here the area that prints is the remainder of the surface that has not been
carved away by the artist. The type of press most commonly used in these processes
is a smooth tools that is rubbed on the back side of the paper or a letter
press that applies the pressure to the protected paper surface vertically
transferring the ink to the paper. Generally speaking, there is a separate
block or plate for each color in a relief print. In addition to the block
or plate which is carved, basic tools include: knives, gouges (for cutting)
and burins (for mark making and working the surface).
Certainly, there are some forms of printmaking are not covered here.
Some examples are: the “collograph” where materials are layered
to build a relief surface which can also be incised and that is then used
to make a print or series of prints; the “vitreograph” where what
is essentially a painting is developed on a glass surface and this is then
transferred over to a paper surface. There are other examples.
It should also be noted that, as all serious students of printmaking already
realize, it is common to combine and elaborate many of these process with
and sometimes combine the results with other processes that are essentially
painting of drawing process can be brought into the a work to develop what
is often termed a “mixed media” print/work.
At this point at least one thing is clear: a brief and clear definition of
a term is very difficult to generate. What we must look toward building
then is a working, or “operational”, definition of the terms discussed.
In trying to do this even for traditional printmaking the process of defining
the architecture of the terms “original print” and “traditional
printmaking” has proved less than completely successful. Even so, we
can say what these things are not and such efforts bring us closer to being
able to have a dialogue using agreed-upon terminology.
In this regard, it can be suggested that, at the very least, traditional printmaking
processes appear to have several things in common. These are: 1. Traditional
prints are original works and are accomplished through the intercession of
an artist who may, or may not, use assistants, or a master printer, in accomplishing
a work or an edition of original images. 2. Traditional prints are the result
of one, or more, of a number of processes that require plates, blocks, or
surfaces that are manipulated or altered to allow for the transfer of applied
inks (pigments) to a paper (or other) surface which is the actual print.
It is not uncommon for printmakers using traditional techniques to use two,
or perhaps many, different techniques on a single image or series. Nor is
it uncommon for printmakers using traditional techniques to also use materials
more commonly associated with drawing or painting to alter and/or make prints
“unique” – the formal terms for a monotype 3. Traditional
prints can be made as a single images or in editions – multiple originals
produced in a signed and numbered series. There are “rules” for
recording the process of making prints and the plate is always “cancelled”
or “struck” or somehow altered or destroyed so that no more “original”
images can be made after the artist’s work process is concluded.
4. It is at least foolhardy, if not impossible, to make a comprehensive statement
of what traditional printmaking is in the sense that there are perhaps as
many ways of working as there are artists. It might be most useful to
suggest that traditional printmaking is not only the use of well-tried and
formalized ways of making prints; it is also, in many cases, the incorporation,
or invention of, new techniques and ways of working which can then be merged
or experimented with what is already known.
Thus far we have constructed a statement that includes many things while it
excludes others. It must be said again that this is a working set of definitions
that is necessarily qualified both in terms of space requirements and depth
of content. We can do better, but this is a well-informed, although somewhat
conservative, position to take at this point.
Part II. The question: “How has printmaking changed with the use of digital
technologies?”
All that having been said, just what about traditional printmaking has changed
as a result of the incorporation of digital technologies into this historically
esoteric art-making community? In order to posit an answer to this thorny
question let me use the points made in defining the terms addressed in this
essay as a gentle way of making some simple comparisons and defining relatively
obvious contrasts – as a thorough analysis of the relationship of the
newer versus the older printmaking technologies is not possible in this space.
Regarding question number 2, “How has printmaking changed with the use
of digital technologies?” Taken one-by-one, just as listed above,
let’s look at all four points describing traditional prints given the
background information and operational definitions proposed in this essay.
Given these points I will now make comparisons with my sense of current
digital fine art printmaking in order to draw conclusions about the latter
in terms of the former as it has been defined herein:
1. “Traditional prints are original works and are most often accomplished
through the intercession of an artist who may, or may not, use assistants
in accomplishing a work or an edition of original images.”
Given my definition of “original” many of the works we look at today
labeled as “digital” prints are actually very fine, perhaps archival,
reproductions. By the definition used herein, a work made in its initial
form as an oil, a watercolor, or a collage of physical materials that is then
photographed and/or scanned, and then output on a high end printer would not
seem to qualify as an original digital print.
Another example, one of my students asked me about the “originality”
of her digital prints made as a result of her own efforts at digital photography.
The images were captured digitally, downloaded into a computer, then modified
and proofed in a software “digital darkroom” and then printed, with
my assistance, on a medium format inkjet printer. “Are these original
photographs?” she asked. “Yes, I think they are” was
my response. She printed a small edition of five images after doing
two trial proofs, tore up the other prints done during other “trials”
and then signed the edition. The “original” digital files
were tagged with metadata (technical and circumstantial information about
the image) and the archived with the embedded “print record” data
included.
But what if a work is created by one person and then turned over to another
person at a remote location for production? For example, what can we
say of a digitally printed piece where the print was not “accomplished
by the artist.” What for example, are we to make of this situation:
a final edition of prints was printed by professionals in a digital atelier
from a file sent on a CD-ROM after “proofs” have been sent to the
client through overnight delivery and then approved by the client via electronic
means. Certainly this sort of relationship is common among commercial clients
and “service bureaus” for the production of printed materials. But
what of “art” prints? Should the artist, the producer of the
original image, be present and oversee the production of the work? Traditional
practices are not absolute in this regard. Even so, and all sophisticated
RIP and color space management software aside, it would seem to add another
dimension of connectivity and creative decision making to the process of making
prints if the artist and the printmaker worked in the same physical space,
at the time the edition was printed, and approved all subsequent work after
that final digital “BAT” was approved as a guide.
Are all digital prints originals? No, I do not think that anyone would
say this is so. Does the quality of the materials or the expertise of
the producer of the image make a digital print an original? No, I do
not think it does. In fact, these factors are neither sufficient to
produce an original digital print nor are they necessary. An original
print can be made at home using inexpensive equipment and whatever materials
the artist wishes to include in the work(s). Perhaps archival questions
are another issue altogether too.
2. “ Traditional prints are the result of one, or more, of a number of
processes that require plates, blocks, or surfaces that are manipulated or
altered to allow for the transfer of applied inks (pigments) to a paper (or
other) surface which is the actual print. It is not uncommon for print-makers
using traditional techniques to use two, or perhaps many, different techniques
on a single image or series. Nor is it uncommon for print makers using traditional
techniques to also use materials more commonly associated with drawing or
painting to alter and/or make prints “unique” – the formal
terms for a monotype”
The description of traditional printmaking processes given here is, as noted,
cursory, and leaves much to the imagination (and further reading) of the reader
regarding the ways in which these process can each be modified and combined,
not to mention the deeply significant factors of inks and papers which were
mentioned but not discussed. What is the status quo with respect to
digital output of prints?
What about digital artists using “one, or more, of a number of processes”
to make original digital prints? I can draw on some familiarity with such
possibilities and can list some of the means of making digitally-based images
we have used (thus far) in my teaching studios to output, or contribute to,
works originally developed through a computer interface: photographic processes
like Cibachrome and Ilfachrome as well as Polaroid transfers; inkjet prints
made from the common desktop units up to the refrigerator-sized Iris units
and large-format “plotters” used by architects; dye-sublimation
prints from very small format units used by dentists up through medium format;
wax thermal transfer process prints; and combinations thereof.
What about a comparison of the “ink” and the “paper” of
traditional printmaking to digital printmaking? In a traditional studio
much care is taken in the selection of both and the archival nature of these
materials is of paramount importance. In terms of digital studio, let
me use my university inkjet printmaking studio as an example. In
experimenting with inks and papers, our Media Integration project has been
fortunate to obtain a number of grants which have been applied the to the
purchase of printers and various products to put in them and run through them.
As far as papers or “substrates” go, well, if we have been
able to get material to pass through a printer in an attempt to make a print
or find a paper that can be used to transfer a digital image to another surface,
we have done just that. For example: leather, etched aluminum plates,
many types of plastics, and just about all papers we have been able to locate.
Numerous processes have also been combined, modified with solvents, used to
make a collage, transferred through various means, or used in other experimental
ways to make printed output in the form of either monoprints or editions.
Moreover, in my building, prints from the traditional studio down the hall
form my digital studio have been making their way back and forth for some
years now. It is also not uncommon to see prints made in the digital
studio be worked “more” with traditional tools from the drawing
and painting studios further down the hall. In this way our students’
works are many times a combination of drawing, painting, printmaking and digital
techniques that are sometimes mounted in multiples on a surface, or hung in
groups and presented as a single work. Students have also been known
to work on “digital works” that have included original efforts by
two or more individuals who then exhibit the product as co-made. Yes,
digital can be as experimental and rule-breaking as any medium which has come
before it. Materials used, both inks and substrates, can be common and
ephemeral or expensive and archival ... anything that can be done is done.
This is simply a description of work in one place. Considering the possibilities
of the work done in so many other places is mind-numbing. Do digital
prints come in a variety of forms? Yes, certainly. Can processes
be combined? Absolutely. Is it possible to experiment and/or carefully
define which inks and papers can be used in digital printmaking? Yes
... a whole industry is built on providing such materials. The materials
are offered to digital printmakers have changed frequently and often profoundly
over just the last few years.
3. “Traditional prints can be made a single images or in editions, consisting
of multiple originals, which are produced in a signed and numbered series.
There are ‘rules’ (the print record) for recording the process of
making prints and the plate (or matrix) is always ‘cancelled’ or
‘struck’ or somehow altered or destroyed so that no more‘original’
images can be made after the artist’s work process is concluded.”
Most of us who have been involved in producing art through print-based digital
technologies have surely produced images in both the “monoprint (single)
and the edition (multiple) forms. So we can certainly look to digital
printmaking as a form of making art prints that does continue in the tradition
of producing both single, unique, images and editions of multiple originals.
What of the more personal touch of signing one’s prints? Do artists
sign digital prints? Everybody I know who is producing digital printed
work they intend to exhibit and/or see as their original art signs their work.
A review of art publications (Art News, artbyte, Art Papers) and numerous
online artists’ catalogues reveals the same: it appears to be commonplace
for digital artists who make prints to sign and number their work. That much
seems to be clear.
What of the adherence to the general standards set by traditional printmaking
in terms of the print record? Are such standards commonplace in the world
of digital printmaking? For a clear answer, one provided by a source
that is both expert and widely connected, I looked online and used one of
the popular search engines to look for various versions of terms such as “digital
printmaking records” and “standards for digital printmaking”
and other combinations of these and similar terms. I wanted to take
a look, on that day, at who was using such terms to define the work they were
publishing on the web. The organization that came up referenced most
often was the International Association of Digital Fine Arts Printmakers which
has a very informative site. I perused and located a page that dealt
with Standards for digital print makers.
Even though this page is under construction, the author, Jack Duganne, has
some sage thoughts to share with visitors regarding the “Standards”
we might be able to expect from fine arts digital print makers. For
example, regarding the history of the “print record” (aka: standards)
Duganne suggests that, “the rules of engagement for artists, dealers,
printers, print makers and all others involved in the creation, production
and sales of fine art prints, multiples and collectibles for sale. The rules
and regulations have in many cases been around for centuries. Some have been
around for decades and some are brand spanking new. These standards were created
by artists, dealers, and collectors to protect themselves against forgeries
and other illegal acts which would compromise the originality and integrity
of works created in multiple form.” Here we have a well-stated
sense of the evolutionary quality of such standards. As the author Duganne
explains, it is simply not correct to assume there is a single governing body,
nor has there been in the past, that sets such standards for artists in the
practice of their craft and the making of their art. What have become
rather widely-held practices in the traditional forms of printmaking are gaining
momentum in digital ateliers and seem to be both useful to the artist and
a bonus to patrons of the arts as well.
But who does set such standards of printmaking practice? Especially
with the introduction of digital technologies into the area of art making
and art selling we are in need of guidance and leadership to make clear what
sorts of practices are beneficial and useful to those who inhabit the art
world (artists, patrons, collectors, galleries and museums, critics, historians,
the art public at large). In the past such things in the world of print
making have, as Duganne suggests, been left to those who were actively involved
in making and selling fine arts prints: “Since the beginning of modern
printmaking and the generation of multiples from a 'master', artists and collectors
have attempted to delineate the ground rules which, when followed, would help
to preserve the posterity of an artist's work. Guilds in Europe and fine art
printmaking societies in the United States have addressed these issues in
many ways.” From this, and many other sources, we can gather that what
is now the case in printmaking standards was not arrived at overnight or by
some individual, or small group somewhere regardless of their resources of
connections. The making of art evolves along cultures and technologies and
so do practices and standards.
Those who would attempt to write about quickly-evolving issues in art-making
such as standards and practices in digital fine arts printmaking must be prepared
to look deeply into the past as they seek out reliable sources of contemporary
information. Moreover, such well-grounded thinking and writing is often most
useful as it allows us to peer toward the technological and philosophical
horizons in the world of art. In this way making sense of the history
of practice in an area can inform the present and enliven the future.
Again, Jack Duganne proves to be a realist when he says that it is not
possible to describe what is currently in the making, yet we can still offer
readers as clear and accurate view of the status quo as possible. In
this regard, Mr. Duganne describes the worthy goals of his IADFAP page as
follows, “I will attempt in the following months to describe, illuminate
and spell out many of the standards which have existed for many years and
those which are changing to adapt to the new media. I will also be covering
the literature of the many Fine Art Guilds and print societies here and abroad.
This forum will be robust, informative, and stimulating. It is intended to
do what was offered by those who originally created these standards - namely,
to protect the artists, print makers, dealers and collectors who make this
medium, and the media within it, creative, exciting and fruitful.” <>
Such investigations, dissemination, and discussion of current practice
and efforts to establish forums for positive, progressive activity in the
digital arts should be lauded. Only after thorough investigations of
the “New” practices and the adoption of well-supported “standards”
will digital print making move toward achieving equivalent status among more
than those few enlightened and adventurous collectors who have already added
digital images to their traditional portfolios of images.
4. “It is at least foolhardy, if not impossible, to make a comprehensive
statement of what traditional printmaking is in the sense that there are perhaps
as many ways-of-working as there are artists working. It might be most
useful to suggest that traditional printmaking is not only the use of well-tried
and formalized ways of making prints but it is also, in many cases,
the incorporation, or invention of, new techniques and ways of working which
can then be merged or experimented with what is already known .”
Here it has been suggested that coming to a comprehensive and easily agreed
upon definition of what composes the practice of digital printmaking is a
very difficult undertaking. This still seems so to me. Entire
libraries at places like the Tamarind Institute are devoted to traditional
practices and works with new volumes added daily. We just cannot know
all that is out there to know. Even so, we can come to some understand
the basic ways, by category, of how artists make traditional prints. Can this
be done for the digital printmaking arts? Certainly this is possible
and the IAFADP has some information online in this regard at this time.
Here too the qualifying admission is made regarding the knowledge base provided,
“Throughout history artists have made work using an enormous range of
materials and processes. Artists working today using digital tools are also
using a wide variety of methods. The print processes listed here are the most
popular digital printing methods for artists. This list is by no means all?inclusive
since both artists and print makers will continue to push the envelope, discovering
new, innovative methods by which fine art prints may be created.”
Perhaps we are a bit premature in attempting to make a definitive statement
of “Standards” (print record) practice that are common to
current fine arts digital printmaking. From my experience the foremost
ateliers such as Cone Editions Press. Ltd. practice the highest form of such
record keeping and their standards and practices have attracted artists of
international standing, as well as many others, to their studios. I
was involved in a work shop with Master Printer Jon Cone in his rural Vermont
studio in 1999 and can personally attest to the remarkable merging of the
foremost digital practices together with the highest standards of traditional
printmaking activities and standards. In a studio of this level, the best
practices of the past and the inventive uses of the possibilities of the present
flow together, sometimes almost seamlessly, to take us elegantly into the
future of printed works of art.
Conclusion
In the very beginning of her short volume, D. Z. Meilach wrote, “The
ancient art of printmaking is rapidly expanding with the continual development
of new techniques. New materials and methods, opening vast creative
channels for the amateur and professional artist, now accompany the classic
wood block and limestone used by print makers for centuries.” All
things considered, perhaps this is a fitting place to stop – for the
moment. To me the sense of what is, or is not, an “original” print
can be, and clearly should be, defined and practiced. On the other hand,
I will leave it to the reader to conclude how the history of fine arts printmaking
isinforming the present practice of making prints through digital interfaces.
As to the future ... it is ours to imprint as we will.
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Dr.
John Antoine Labadie
Coordinator of Digital Studios in the Art Department
and Director of the Media integration Center
of The University of North Carolina at Pembroke
Some thoughts on IT in 2001: In the arts ... and beyond
For better or worse, computers and their related kin have undeniably revolutionized
every area of inquiry in the Postmodern world from astronomy to visual art.
Moreover, the computer, and related information technology (IT), has, in many
and sometimes profound ways, made the lives of some of us more comfortable,
convenient, and complete. For those interested in locating the current
“edge” in the visual arts some form of digital work is surely the
direction to pursue. Whatever one’s life pursuit it is no stretch
of imagination to suggest that computing, in one form or another, has had
an unprecedented impact on global cultures of many kinds.
Certainly, a large number of you reading this essay work in industries or
at jobs or are using technologies that are inventions of the Postmodernist
era. Overall, high technology has, in some very significant ways, served
some of us very well as we move into the second millennium. But
can the tables be turned in this new century? Have our computers (collectively)
really served us well or have “they” hijacked our global destiny?
Or, as many conjecture, is the “truth” of this matter somewhere
in between? Some have even declared that we are but a few years from
the end of the human era, that point at which (a la “The Terminator”)
a set of runaway technologies commandeers the future and drives us all off
who-knows-where. What factual evidence of our potential digital future
do we have?
Consider the scenario which was widely reported in1998 after IBM’s “Deep
Blue” computer defeated world chess champion Garry Kasparov. After
his defeat, Mr. Kasparov suggested he had (perhaps) met God. “I
met something I couldn’t explain ... people turn to religion to
explain things like that.” To some such a perspective is certainly
hyperbole, as the matter (or machine) in question was in no way a cosmic mystery.
In his game against the IBM machine the chess champion had played a 3,000-pound
bundle of more than 500 computers which considered as many as 200 million
moves a second in order to beat him. On the biological side, the very
human Kasparov, evaluating at a rate of perhaps two or three moves a second,
won one game and tied three in the six-game contest. Even so, the final
outcome of such competitions, over time, does not seem in much doubt.
Moreover, consider Moore’s Law (stated in 1965 by Intel Corporation founder
and CEO Gordon Moore) which posits that (the development of) computer performance
doubles every 18 months. This means that today’s notebooks are
exponentially more able than one of the granddaddys of all electronic digital
processors, the Atanasoff-Berry Computer. Built during World War II
by John V. Atanasoff and Clifford Berry, the station wagon-size machine had
a storage capacity of less than 400 characters and performed one operation
approximately every 15 seconds. Some 50-plus years later, existing experimental
machines are now capable of “teraflops” performance at 1 trillion
floating-point operations per second. Such processors have rendered
Moore’s Law obsolete. Machines 1,000 times faster are on the digital
horizon: petaflops are anticipated within five years, based on smaller semiconductor
technologies now considered feasible. It is beyond conjecture
that restive technologies have always been a force in human history.
From ancient times and the introduction of pyrotechnologies, to the ugly realities
of nuclear energy, humans have invented things that are difficult to control.
Now, in the twenty-first century, our current high technology seems to have
reoriented human culture -- again. For example, in Silicon Valley, where
smaller equals faster, nanotechnology, engineering on the molecular level,
is pushing things even further down the structural ladder. In “Engines
of Creation: The Coming Era of Nanotechnology” K. E. Drexler explains
how we will eventually be able to create almost any arrangement of atoms desired.
In this way, nanotechnology will further reduce the size (and increase the
speed) of computers. Drexler predicts nano-supercomputers that are perhaps
even smaller than grains of sand. We are asked to then imagine many
swarms of nano-scale cell-repair cruisers carefully and deliberately moving
through a human body, identifying faulty cells and repairing abnormal (or
aging?) DNA. And what then? Already, consumer-grade
products using digital technologies have become much smarter in the sense
that a machine’s awareness of its role and tasks are more precise and
effective: fuzzy logic washing machines can determine how much water to let
in based on how dirty your clothes are; and “shape memory” eyeglass
frames return to an original form when run under hot water. Even so,
at least in 2001 it still takes human intelligence to conceptualize such clever
uses for innovative materials and technologies.
Some futurists have conjectured that sometime before 2035 a computer somewhere
will be nudged into consciousness and suddenly “wake up” to find
it is capable of performing the processes now exclusively the domain of the
human brain. That computer will have found computing’s Holy-Grail–of-awareness:
a condition we term “intelligence.” Should such a moment come
to pass ... well, after that many things will quickly get very interesting.
In this regard, it has also been suggested that such “smart” machines
will be reproductive ... creating smarter machines, which will build yet smarter
ones, ad infinitum. In such a scenario technological progress would then explode,
swelling superexponentially almost overnight toward what seers have called
the “Singularity.” The term comes from mathematics and is
the point at which a function goes infinite; it’s also popularized in
the science fiction novels of Vernor Vinge. He thinks of it this way:
If we make machines as smart as humans, it’s not difficult to imagine
that we could make, or cause to be made, machines that are smarter.
After that we could plunge into an incomprehensible era of “posthumanity.”
On the other hand, many futurists are not worried about the concept of the
Singularity because “techno-prophecy” is almost always wrong.
A less nihilistic seer, Edward Tenner, in “Why Things Bite Back,”
has suggested that almost nothing regarding technology has been predicted
with any accuracy whatsoever. In many cases, innovation that solves
one problem, winds up creating another, e.g., the development of the plastic
soda bottle, which, when discarded, lasts practically forever; and high-tech
improvements in football gear designed to prevent injuries, which instead
allow for more aggressive play, which in turn causes injuries to increase.
One can only imagine what engineers were (not) thinking while inventing the
leaf-blower, or the jet-ski -- not to mention our old restive friend nuclear
energy with its apocalyptical possibilities.
So what does all this high technology mean and where does it lead us?
We simply don’t know. We don’t know whether technology will eventually
convey us to the Singularity or more safely house some of us in the very sanitary
suburbs of the future. We don’t know whether to regard it as inherently
benign, treacherous, or transparent. And one might ponder the entire
issue itself, considering the fact that perhaps 90 percent of the world’s
people have no telephone. Which side of the
technological divide is the more disadvantaged remains to be seen.
But what of computers and art? A prime question might be what exactly
is "digital art" and by what criteria shall it be judged?
Well, a digital work is, by definition, composed on or translated by or through
a binary computer. A digital work is, collectively, a carefully defined
set of "0s" and "1s" which have been used to encode data
into files that can contain, for example, text, audio, or visual information.
A 35mm slide (such as a Nikon Coolscan), once scanned through, can be "digitized"
according to the inclinations of the equipment operator and then immediately
printed on a "photo-realistic" inkjet printer at a level of quality
to rival that of most any camera store. But is this product a photograph?
Good question. The computer is a polymorph of tools and electronic databases.
A computer can isolate and conjoin, expand and limit, remember and forget,
tempt and deny. But whatever a computer is, or can do, the human factor
of the operator is still very much, at least for the moment, a part of the
output producing equation.
Some of the earliest examples of what we now know as computer art began as
early as 1968, when Lillian Schwartz seized a light pen and began to draw.
Over a long career Ms. Schwartz combined her dual careers as a computer artist
and a groundbreaking user of high technology. Her works, in many media
are found in major museum collections throughout the world. In her own
words, Schwartz has described her relationship with IT and the arts:
“A computer can have (be!) an unlimited supply of brushes, colors, textures,
shadings, and rules of perspective and three?dimensional geometry. It can
be used to design a work of art or to control a kinetic sculpture. It can
reproduce an image of a famous Renaissance painting and record that image
to video, film, facsimile, a plotter or a printer... I see the computer as
part of the natural evolution of an artist's tools. It can facilitate
areas of traditional drudgery in a manner analogous to the Renaissance masters
applying their cartoons to frescoes. It can help develop an artists
"eye," through which the creative act is channeled into the work
of art. Not because it can think, but because it can be told how to calculate
in a logical fashion, the computer can also be used for art research
and analysis. In other words, computers can be made to accommodate the entire
breadth of artistic thought. But even that broad potential does not
make the computer more than a tool ? it only shows that the computer
can be a variety of tools." (The Computer Artist's Handbook by Lillian
Schwartz/Laurens R. Schwartz; W.W. Norton, Inc. 1992.)
With the possibilities offered by the computers (Apple, PC, Linux), peripherals
(scanners, printers, digital cameras), and software (for example: Adobe Photoshop,
Corel/ MetaCreations Painter, Adobe Illustrator), available in the early twenty-first
century, those persons competent with these various new and ever-evolving
technologies can make and/or alter images in ways never before available --
to anyone. Many artists and art critics agree, once visual information
is converted into binary code (those 0s & 1s) it is possible to produce
original images that are as visually and aesthetically stunning as those produced
through any other medium. Digital imaging is simply another way to communicate
visually and artistically and perhaps the one of means to carry us into brave
new worlds in the arts.
In my estimation, the core question is not at all "What do we do about
computer/digital work?" Perhaps it might more productively be phrased,
"How can digital be incorporated into what we already know how to do?"
Take printmaking for example. As printing and publications standards
are already in use (and evolving) in the graphic design industry, the question
becomes "How does digital work benefit both the producers of the
art in question and the consumers of said work?" We all need make
no mistake in understanding what digital has already wrought: a new era is
here and it IS revolutionary, unprecedented and marvelously powerful.
Even so, digital technology, taken as a whole, is nothing more, or less, than
the tool(s) we make of it.
Certainly all artwork is interpretive, and digital imaging is the first truly
new and unprecedented interpretive tool set available to us since the introduction
of chemical photography in the 1830's. New endeavors in any medium should
be unhindered by critical disapproval which derides works accomplished by
a means with no historical precedent. As N. Negroponte (co-founder of
the MIT Media Lab) has written in his best seller, “Being Digital”,
the most facile future users of digital technologies will “live digitally.”
As to the impact on human creative output, whatever the form,
the proverbial “jury” is still “out” ... and perhaps has
even yet to be seated. My suggestion: embrace the possibilities now
available to us and enjoy the digital possibilities.
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