Much of my work entails a lot of preparation.

I enjoy this part of the process:

. . . the idea. . .beginning the steps to make what is in my mind a reality

. . . the decisions involved — color, material, process

. . . dying tea bags, opening, closing, composing before stitching

. . . burning paper…choosing the book . . . choosing the paper

. . . what the material conveys and how it portrays content and meaning.

Always the processes and materials I choose include an element of surprise, something I cannot control. This often yields unexpected and unanticipated results that stimulate whole new paths of exploration.

The cyanotype process

Recently I embarked on learning the cyanotype process. First I studied the nuts and bolts of the process (thank you Sarah Fox from Women’s Studio Workshop and Liz Bannish from Center for Contemporary Printmaking). Then I figured out how to use this process in service of my concepts, ideas, and the imagery I wish to create. The first practice pieces were encouraging. It is thrilling to discover and explore a new medium and all of its possibilities. The way I use cyanotype in imagery and method is similar to my printmaking and burning practices; pieces making up a larger whole, the negative positive shifts, the sense of suspended or captured time.

Coming together

After some smaller test pieces, I started working on a 26 inch square piece of Duralar. I have an affinity for squares and their ability to be turned this way and that as I work through a composition. Little by little the drawing came to life and I was getting excited about it… its density, conveyance of a sense of movement, and the feeling of being submerged in a universe beyond myself extending from the micro to the macro.

First impressions

The first time I experimented was in mid July, at the peak of the sun’s intensity and strength. It was November before the larger drawing was done. I tried reaching out to others for a prescription for how long to expose the plate. The unanimous response was an encouraging “do a test strip” — or in other words — figure it out yourself. So much for shortcuts! I proceeded to do just that…on what turned out to be “old” pretreated cyanotype paper which yielded less intense and spottier color. Even so, I could get a pretty clear idea of a range of workable exposure times. With the late and low-lying sun I needed to chase the sun, having to move the table several times as sudden shadows, cast from power lines and tree branches, threatened to impact the image.

Beginnings and endings

Then the exciting part… drum roll, please! Time to see the print emerge during the processing as I rinsed and toned the pieces. The blue was deep. The image…well, it was not what I imagined. At that point I preferred the drawing on the plate to the cyanotype. I experienced a rush of frustration and disappointment.

While creating, there are many times when the idea in your head has to cede to what is present in real life. When this happens, I need to separate myself from that idea, and be fully present for the result and evaluate what IS. Some times, the happy mistakes and serendipitous events can create something different and unique — more interesting and compelling than the original idea. Often, results are a catalyst leading to tweaks, re-imaginings, adjustments, and rethinking. On occasion I need to roll up my sleeves and go back to the beginning.

Toning these pieces with green tea, coffee and a bleach/tea combination shifted the colors, added depth and emphasized the mystery and mood of the work. I am not sure yet where I land on these. They remain intriguing enough for me to want to dig more deeply into this created world. For now the jury is still out but these are growing on me!

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