“How can a print—a multiple—be original?” Chris Orr, an English artist and printmaker who has published over 400 limited editions, gets the question often. He’s quick to answer: “The originality of the artist’s intention.” On hand for last week’s opening of the IFPDA Print Fair at New York’s Park Avenue Armory, Orr—a member of the Royal Academy of Art—notes that artists have made prints for hundreds of years.
Chris Orr, Cyclone, Coney Island, 2010, lithograph, edition of 30, courtesy of the artist.
The twenty-first IFPDA Print Fair—an annual feast for print collectors and connoisseurs—featured over 90 dealers from Europe and North America, all members of the International Fine Print Dealer Association, who displayed prints of all kinds by artists ranging from Rembrandt to Motherwell to Kiki Smith.
Robert Motherwell, The Bracque Suite: Untitled, 1971,
screenprint on J. B. Green paper, edition of 150.
Courtesy Marlboro Graphics, New York
Following, a quick tour of the Print Fair with David Orr, who reviewed some of his favorites.
Many things lure artists—old masters and young—to create prints. “The work can be improvised and subtle,” says Orr, making prints perfect for capturing the subtle nuances needed in a portrait. Rembrandt understood this, as evident in his etching The Great Jewish Bride, on view at David Turnick Inc.’s booth.
Rembrandt van Rijn, Study of Saskia, called The Great Jewish Bride, 1635, etching
More than three centuries later, Picasso created a marvelous (and rare) linocut print of his wife, Jacqueline Lisant, de Trois Quarts. Frederick Mulder Ltd., London, displays this, as well as Edvard Münch’s eloquent lithograph, The Sick Child I. “Like the very process of lithography, there’s layer upon layer of meaning and implication,” says Orr of The Sick Child. In this case, the process involved four separate blocks “made of limestone that is 150 million years old—dating to the Jurassic period…And yet it is as fresh as the moment it was drawn.”
Jacqueline Lisant, de Trois Quarts, 1962, Baer 1294 third state of three, III (of III), linocut printed in colors. Courtesy Frederick Mulder, London
Edvard Münch, The Sick Child I, 1892, lithograph printed in colors. Courtesy Freerick Muler London
Prints are a way of remembering a place or an emotion: Consider Cyril Power’s glowing, streamlined vision of The Escalator. “It’s almost psychedelic,” said Gordon Cooke, director of the Fine Art Society of London. “Who would ever see the underground or subway like that today?” David Ott, on a visit to Coney Island, captured the haunting desolation of the Cyclone: Coney Island, shown at Advanced Graphics London.
Cyril E. Power, The Escalator, circa 1929. Linocut, edition of 50. Courtesy The Fine Art Society
As with her sculptures, Louise Bourgeois explored her inner emotions in prints, using highly charged figures, such as Hairy Spider, a drypoint displayed at Harlan & Weaver.
Louise Bourgeois, Hairy Spider, 2001, drypoint, Hahnemule warm white paper, edition of 25. Courtesy Harlan & Weaver
Printmaking is a collaborative act; Bourgeois worked with master printers Felix Harlan and Carol Weaver from 1989 until she died at 98, in May 2010. Artists often depend on master printers to bring their concepts to life. Chuck Close came to Two Palms in New York’s SoHo, just three blocks from his loft, wanting to do an updated version of the anamorphic, in which a distorted image is displayed clearly via a special device. David Lasry worked with infinite care creating a finely polished stainless steel tube that reflects the fractured sixteen-color silkscreen, all part of Close’s Self-Portrait (anamorphic), 2009.
Chuck Close, Self-Portrait (anamorphic), 2009.
16 color silkscreen on Toshanga paper, polished stainless steel cylinder and maple wooden box/platform.
Edition of 20. Courtesy Two Palms, New York
James O’Nolan, director of Stoney Road Press, Dublin, had to push the other direction: When he approach the local lumber shop to have giant plywood blocks cut for James Gorman’s designs, “we had to convince them to give us the lowest grade available. They wanted to give us one with a fine finish; we wanted all the knots, grain and blemishes so that the life of the wood would be captured in the print.” That life is captured in Big Red.
James Gorman, Big Red, 2005, Woodblock, sheet, edition of 40. Courtesy Stoney Road Press, Dublin
Christiane Baumgartner, from Leipzig Germany, makes monumental woodcuts based on her own films and video stills. Kleines Seestück, a series of four enigmatic seascapes, is on view at the booth of Alan Cristea Gallery, London. Germany has always been at the cutting edge of printing. Think of Albrect Dürer. By combining the earliest and most recent reproduction processes (woodcut and digital) the artist reviews the history of information, subverting and distorting the original image, conjuring up a totally new vision.
Christiane Baumgartner, Kleines Seestück I-IV, edition of 18,woodcut on Shiragiku Japanese paper
© 2011 Christiane Baumgartner, Alan Cristea Gallery, London
