The Process

"The work I’m doing has been a part of that botanical reference field forever.

That early scientific, historical botanical genre of art is one of the oldest in human knowledge. Painted on caves; are animals, and plants.”

 
 
 Examining a flower in the field with a hand lens

Examining a flower in the field with a hand lens

Observation and Collection

I collect specimens from private wild land, with permissions, always maintaining a sustainable plant population in the area. Button Grass plains and heath-lands are homes to such a diverse plant community, that I need to tune my eye for the plant that I am collecting; scanning, choosing: no blemishes please.

Suddenly another form catches my eye and I look down and through layer on layer of diversity to the ferns and orchids a few inches high. Macro to micro is dizzying and quite mesmerising. 

I photograph the flower. If there are sufficient numbers, I can pick the plant and either press the specimens there, or carefully carry it back to my studio to draw.

It is an immersive experience,  a slow, meditative and very mindful walk, loaded with constant surprise. Sometimes I walk for hours.

 
 Drawing in the field, when unable to collect a specimen

Drawing in the field, when unable to collect a specimen

Drawing

Drawing the Bearded orchid under illuminated magnification, onto the perspex Dry-point plate in my Lune River studio. 

This stage is a delightful zone, where I am studying the flower or plant under magnification, using a microscope or illuminated lens. This allows me to really see and understand the plant - its structure, patterns, form and colouring. I get it "into my hand" through drawing with a pencil. By drawing, the form of the plant is imprinted on me through the acute observation involved, and I then become a vehicle for replication at any time.

It feels like a very intimate relationship I form with the plant. Perhaps this is where I am completely lured into the spell of the orchid, it has me in its thrall and I now serve its purpose.

I am a pollinator of sorts.

 
 Using a sharp steel etching needle to scribe marks upon the perspex plate to hold the ink. Working on flower of Tasmanian orchid Eriochillus cucculata

Using a sharp steel etching needle to scribe marks upon the perspex plate to hold the ink. Working on flower of Tasmanian orchid Eriochillus cucculata

Dry-point Etching


Here I take my initial drawings and scale them up to fit underneath the etching plate size I have chosen. Initially, I will copy my drawing onto the plate until I have enough information to work freehand. I work by making dry-point engravings onto a transparent perspex plate, scratching with a fine steel etching needle onto the surface to create a burr. This burr will be what holds the ink when it comes to the inking stage of making the print.

The pressure I exert with the needle, and the type of mark, will all lead to different printed outcomes. It is not as fluid a movement as working with pencil; I need to turn the plate to allow for fine and accurate use of directional lines, and to catch the light on the plate to see what I am creating. I then lightly ink the lines to keep track.

Some of my works may involve multiple plates due to the scale of the finished piece, requiring a precision of registration from one plate to another, i.e. root to stem to flower.

I also leave space for purely playing with ink, mono-print style.

This is where the bulk of the work takes place, with many hours invested in this phase.

 

Paper Preparation

Here I tear the paper used in the final print process. I use a 320-350gsm fine cotton rag paper - either Hahnemuhle editioning paper, or Stonehenge relief paper. Thick, well made editioning paper needs to be soaked and blotted, so that it will absorb the maximum amount of ink, and also carry the embossing of the burred lines and edge of the etching plate.

The paper is the delight - it carries the mark. So the alchemy of the transferring of ink needs to be on the best paper at the right moisture level to do justice to the work and the time invested in it.

 
 Inking up and final clean of the drypoint plate of Caladenia alpina. Ready to print!

Inking up and final clean of the drypoint plate of Caladenia alpina. Ready to print!

Inking Plates

Rich ink pigment, burnt linseed oil... the mixing, swirling and rolling of viscous etching ink in preparation for printing, must be one of the most sensuous processes of all. I usually work with a rich black oil based etching ink, smearing this onto the plate's surface with a small piece of card, using bunched up tarlatan fabric to evenly distribute the ink to the plate.

Then comes the process of wiping off the ink to reveal the marks I have made, working from dark to light, in the inky field. Wiping with a rag and using various tools to remove and reapply ink, I'm working fast, as the ink will be drying, leaving just enough on the surface to be transferable to the damp paper.

Due to the intricate nature of my work, I also ink the plate under magnified lens to achieve the level of detail I desire.

I love the capacity for fine detail available through the etching process and the gorgeous modulation of tone found in dry-point and mono-print techniques.