20 Sep Etching: The Practice of Alchemy and the Art of Collaboration, PART 1
In my second year at Evergreen State College, I enrolled in a 2D art foundations course. After a few weeks of basic instructions in drawing and painting my cohort was led ceremoniously to the printmaking studio in the basement of one of the science laboratory buildings. The dark and windowless space glowed from within, illuminated by florescent ceiling fixtures and dated, bright yellow vinyl cabinets that lined the walls. The smell was pronounced, a mix of oils, plastic, pigments, and detergents. Despite—or maybe because of—the dim and dismal environs, I became immediately enthralled with the graphic medium.
At that time, the studio was in a transitional process from traditional methods to “non-toxic intaglio” processes. The printmaking faculty-technician whose office was inside the studio had become seriously ill from toxins in his work environment. Young studio staff were diligently importing new innovations while traditional materials and techniques were made forbidden. On the periphery of the studio and hidden away in cabinets were the residues of the Old World, chemicals and materials which recalled the 15th century origin of the medium. I became secretly interested in the contraband and would sneak drops of kerosene into my monotype prints.
I fell in love with the mysteries of the print and spent the rest of my time at Evergreen underground, trying to find new ways of doing old things in safe ways. Most experiments failed and failure did not deter my fascination.
One day a fortuitous letter arrived at the studio addressed to the former head of the studio. The letter was sent by Evergreen alumni, Case Hudson, who had since become a Master Printer at the premier American etching studio in San Francisco, Crown Point Press. The elegance of the paper and swirly letterhead logo made me swoon and at that moment I became inspired to pursue a career as a professional printmaker.