An Intern Reflects!

Being an intern can be hard on the soul - but but keeping a certain perspective on things makes all the difference.



The forklift at the studio has Mr. Goldston's 1984 Oklahoma tags on it. You might not be the butt of any Oklahoma jokes - but I would be shocked if you weren't. I have to admit, Oklahomans must seem pretty peculiar to this crowd.

Not much visual aid this week, or rather, what there is has little to do with the text. Suffice it to say I've been much busier and involved in the goings on at ULAE, so photography takes a backseat, and you get tasty leftovers that I couldn't fit in previous blogs.

It might be advantageous to discuss a few things I've noticed about this place, and the art world at large. I will try to keep this as positive as possible. Becoming more involved has led me to realize what a blessing an art related job such as this can be. If there is any single thing I have learned from this experience it is that there is life beyond art school. One simply must know where to look, and be willing to pay one dues. Certainly, this won't put anyone on a faster track to making it big as a visual artist, but it depends on how you use the facilities at your disposal, and put what you learn as a printer to use. The level of professionalism exercised at this shop has forced me to work on my own precision and attention to detail. It has effected the quality of my own work immensely, and my attitude towards art making in general. Then of course there is the development of new skills and familiarization with new aspects of the trade - but this will take years. Many printers here have a specialization, but broaden into other areas out of necessity in producing large editions of a certain type. Just in standing by and being a nuisance I have gotten a crash course in litho, aquatint, intaglio, and photogravieur. As I understand it, every studio has it's own methods in each area, so it isn't surprising that they do things differently here than at Gemini, or Tandem (or OK State).




A pile of broken lithographic stones sit behind Skidmore Place.

The downside of course is that the pressure is immense at times, and putting any of this knowledge to use in personal projects might be hard to do. Deadlines on large editions change at a moments notice, artists drop in to check on their work, or to create new work, and the level of craftsmanship cannot falter due to shortage of time. There is a lot of money involved here, so keeping it cool and staying focused is important. Things must be done right - and there is an enormous number of variables that ensure that things will go wrong. I have already noticed a decrease in my enthusiasm, though I chock most of it up to being the intern, and wading in the muck at the bottom of the heap. Some days I feel like a printer, and am treated as such - and other days I am DEFINITELY the intern. I am constantly reminded of my place. The other thing that I picked up on rather quickly is that many of the people who work here commute and hour or an hour and a half and the beginning and the end of each day. I thought at first it was just stubbornness - insisting to live in Brooklyn because of the cool factor. But I can honestly say that I never want to live on Long Island again in my life. There is no one above high school age or below mid forties that lives here as far as I can tell, and thus there is very little to do. I find myself, as well, living for the next chance to get into Manhattan or Williamsburg or Park Slope. So - if the printers seem grumpy, just imagine yourself in their position. It's a great job, but it is also a lot of baggage and stress.



A shot from the front room of Skidmore. On a nice days, Skidmore can be a lovely place to be.

It can be tremendously rewarding some days, and other days it can make you feel like dirt. I guess this aspect of being a working stiff has always eluded me - and I can honestly say I miss college a lot already. However - it has been a huge eye opener as to how the art world works, and as to what goes on behind the scenes. One printer said that he went to to Met to see the new Jasper Johns "Gray" exhibit, which featured many prints that he himself had pulled and handled. However his name is nowhere on that sheet of paper. Only Johns'. Not surprisingly, most of the notable artists who work with ULAE haven't set foot in Bayshore in years, but still have their prints editioned here. Is it right or wrong? I don't know - it just is. I know that part of the thrill of making prints for me is actually making the prints. I like to be involved in every step of the process - but I am not a famous artist, and if I were I can hardly say that I wouldn't let ULAE edition my prints for me and sell them for big money. I can't say it doesn't sound appealing. It is still awe inspiring to be in the presence of such history and legacy - but if I hadn't come out here to do this I may never have realized that such a place existed. I always thought the art and the artist were inseparable - as naive as it sounds - but it makes complete sense that the thing that can drive the two apart should be the almighty dollar. I might sound jaded - but I'm totally comfortable with it - not that it's up to me. It's just been a real eye opener. Strangely though - this awesome opportunity has really helped me reconcile with my decision to go into the arts. It is always breathing down my neck - what comes after school? Do I really expect to make a living on paintings? In a culture driven by media, fast news, flashing lights and dwindling attention spans, do I really expect to get anyone's attention? The average time a gallery goer takes to look at a painting is less than 3 seconds. The art world is subsequently very tough and fickle, and riddled with nepotism and politics - and all of these things should inform the student of the arts about the path before him. While there is a strange, naive comfort in being the penniless underdog, sticking to his genuine artistic ideals and creating meaningful but misunderstood work only to be praised after his death - seeing what these printers do gives me a great deal of hope and optimism. I can see myself in a job like this one day, becoming a master of a respectable trade, and living off of it in order to feed myself while kicking the dream around. There is one printer here who I relate to on this level - and he uses all of his time outside of the studio to create his own work. He makes use of the facilities at Clinton, and produces really nice work. I see this as an admirable use of his occupational situation - though the trade offs are great (he resides in Bayshore) he is still on track to a career as a professional artist. Being close to NYC with a stable income is a tremendous asset to this goal, because if there's one thing NYC has, it's money, where there's money there is much more likely to be an art market. Culture is one thing that New York is not shy of - and for a county boy like me, that's real derned excitin'.



Studio at Skidmore is like a litho library documenting the presence of people like Motherwell, Frankenthaler, Dine and Oldenberg. The litho images of their work are, by and large, untouched.

For a great bit of history and an awesome photo essay about ULAE - make sure to check
out their new website: http://www.ulae.com

Continued Studio Misadventures

Having done a bit of etching at OSU didn't hurt - but they things are done here are a bit different. Once again, I was able to pick up a lot and stand in from time to time, until I was trusted with more involved tasks. Here is a run down - again, in no particular order - of my involvement in the etching process during the first month.



Ed, a printer from Norman, OK, staples a freshly printed Terry Winters to a wooden panel to ensure that is dries completely flat and even. Straps are used around the edges of the sheet to protect the surface, and the wood has a thick plastic sheet under it so the back of the sheet is not compromised either. These are very expensive prints, so great lengths are taken to ensure that they make it to the edition in pristine condition.



Ed lays a plate on the press for the last run on a Winters print. The prints are registered by ticks around the outer edge of the plate which line up with a grid on mylar. There were three prints in the particular edition - but the portfolio consists of ten different prints at 60 sheets each.



This is where paper gets soaked, and then drained when the screen is raised. It is then blotted before use. Damp paper draws more of the ink from the etched plate than a dry sheet.



Ed and Jason ink an enormous Kiki Smith plate. The plate is set on a hotplate and ink is applied to it while warm, which helps the ink settle into the deeply bitten areas of the plate. Excess ink is then removed from undesired areas with tarletans, cotton wipes and a fine paper which picks up ink from the plate without removing it from etched areas. This process is done before every print is run.



Here, a print is being run. This is truly a two man job - as the plate is very heavy and akward to move, and each printer must pull the wool blankets snug as the print runs underneath the roller, because any crumpling or creasing could be disasterous. I have spent many morings at the laundromat cleaning these blankets. (Incidentally, Planet Laundry is the place to go - an impressive facility as far as laundromats are concerned. Don't forget the Woolite!)



The printers move the plate from the hotplate to the press bed. Shiny!



Before any printing begins, the plate undergoes a process called "Steel Facing." During which, the plate is fully immersed in rust filled water. The water is highly ionized, and highly conductive. While one end of the plate is connected to a power source (pictured below) a long steel pole, also charged is run across the surface of the plate. The pole never touches the plate, but the plate draws ionized steel particles to its surface during the several hundred passes it undergoes, and comes out coated in a very durable metal which will hold up to many more runs through the press that a plain copper plate. This is a painstaking process - but fortunately is only done before printing begins, unless the steelfacing begins to break down, in which case printing must be stopped, and the plate stripped and refaced, making everyone quite grumpy.



Do't let this image fool you. This really isn't very much fun.



The plate must be washed with marble powder, ly and nitric acid to remove the existing steel facing, should a new face need to be applied.



Here is the power source. The Kiki plates were to big for the facing tank you see in the back, so the flat bath was used. Were it a smaller plate, it would simply be suspended it the tank for a decided length of time, and the charged poles and hangers would do all the facing work.



Here is the plate after steel facing, which would be printed from the following morning. You can see it apears silver, but that is really just a sheen of protective steel. When this plate was etched it still apeared copper. Behind it you see two large aquatint boxes - an area I hope to investigate while I'm here. Anyway - from the last two posts you can see tht simply making yourself available makes the days go by a lot faster. The more you hang out in the office, the errands you wil run. (You will still run errands.) Days where I am busy helping and learning make for a happy intern. And the more i have helped and shown enthusiasm, the more responsibilities I have been given, which feel really good.