Turning prints into sculptures
I’ve never felt comfortable calling myself a printmaker, but it does inform much of my making. After university, I once went to a rentable printmaking studio to make use of their equipment. The on hand technician was very friendly and came to watch every print as it was unveiled. It was one of those things where, if I had an ounce of extrovert in me, would have been delightful, but this socially awkward cave troll felt a bit on show. She told me my compositions needed work, in that cheerful, but ultimately unkind, sort of way. When I told her I planned to cut up the prints to make sculptures she was absolutely horrified, and not afraid to tell me so. Apparently that isn’t the done thing? Ever since I’ve felt a bit unwelcome at the printmaker table, as though I’m some sort of anarchist, soiling their traditions. That’s not true of course; art is for playing and enjoying act of making. It’s funny how one person can effect you. I didn’t go back.
I’ve never thought materials or processes should be something to be precious about. Whatever gets the job done in a safe and hopefully fun manner works for me. So I make my unconventional, of-questionable-composition prints at home. And I used to use these prints as the first and only layer of my paper sculptures. But everything has since had a redesign.
Now I create a blank white paper structure as my base, and I cut my prints into smaller, feathery parts, and glue them on top. The process is a little more time consuming, but I like the finished result much better. I like the feathery textures of my bird sculptures. I have not yet perfected this technique for furry creatures, which is why those designs have taken a back seat in recent years. Fur is a difficult texture to give the impression of with a pair of scissors. Every snip feels like a bad haircut!
Sometimes I paint textures too. Often I combine painting and printmaking together. And layering these patterns onto a blank base makes my sculptures tremendously sturdy. Printmaking has never been the finished piece for my making, just a little part of a series of processes.
So my sculptures are basically three dimensional collage. Building up layers of already very sturdy card gives my sculptures a lot of strength. I will admit, secretly between me and you, that I have sat on a few before now, having knocked them from my desk to my chair, without injury to their structure. I’m not going to market them as indestructible by any means, but they are much sturdier than they look! When I had my studio shop, customers asked about their durability all the time, and usually assumed all their strength came from the varnish, but that is not the case. It’s all about their construction.
Paper wrapped wire feet are attached to the blank model before the feathers are glued on top. This way I feel satisfied that they are extra secure. Other design elements, such as a beak or fancy hairdo, are added after the main design has been covered in feathers. They always look funny at this stage, particularly if they are destined to have a big, characterful beak. And then they are ready for eyeballs and a varnish with a UV protective lacquer. I normally wait to varnish them until I have a merry pile of them on my desk, and then finishing them is a lovely task- I always feel very productive! And once I’m certain everything is dry, I can give their legs a tweak with my pliers to make sure that they are balancing correctly on their own two feet.