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Seeing my practice as a whole

Jo Boddy

We were asked to watch a video about practice-based research methods this week. I also went back and revisited the shorter reflective blogs film which I got more out of in light of the longer lecture which I found fascinating.

I've been asked to be a reflective practitioner before, during my teacher training qualification. That seemed easier - write a lesson plan, deliver the lesson, reflect on what worked and what didn't, why, and alter the plan accordingly. Reflecting as an artist seems harder, not least because when delivering a lesson there are clearly stated aims that need to be met within a set timeframe. Ongoing artistic practise is far less clear cut.

I've previously read that Neil Bousfield had a personal breakthrough in his practice-based research and I am building up the courage to contact him and ask him whether he is able to share any insight, printmaker to printmaker. I think a lot of the reasons behind wanting to undertake this MA were to explore and discover a way of working which I could recognise as practice-based research.

In thinking about the reflection and my work as a whole I realised that I need to confront a few things about my work which I've been slightly in denial about. I'm sure lots of artists do this, but I have stuff I call 'my work' and I have little side lines of creativity which I don't take very seriously 'artistically' but I think I need to acknowledge them and actually take them much more seriously.

Being a printmaker means I make multiples so of course the first thing I made when I wanted to start selling things was cards. I've never really taken them very seriously, but I think it's actually rather important that I do. The reason for making them initially was a financial one - at craft fairs card sales usually cover the stall and petrol costs which takes the pressure off. I have recently begun reproducing some of my prints as cards which is easy and far less time consuming than hand printing them, but for some reason I also want to keep making my hand printed cards. I had just about run out of them so they've been on my mind as a job that needed doing and a couple of days ago I finally spent a whole day printing them and felt wonderful, like I'd had a really productive day, once I was done.

As I was printing them I was thinking about the designs and how they came about and what I like and don't like about them. I realised that the trees which I print in gold and black were rather an important test piece for a larger print. I actually took this piece of lino into the forest and drew directly onto it using a homemade dip nib and ink. It has some wonderful marks and the energy of a sketch done en-plein air which I think was slightly lost when I tried to reproduce it on a larger scale for a print. I love printing the card, it's really simple to ink up and really dramatic so I can print a lot of them quite quickly which feels very satisfying. They feel like an authentic piece of art with a story behind them.

I enjoy experimenting with rainbow rolls and bright colours for the seedhead card. Sometimes I print it with the green at the top, sometimes the blue. It was my dad who suggested changing the dots to yellow which means wiping the ink off them and individually inking each dot by hand, but the effect is worth the trouble.

The cheeky seagulls were inspired by my mum, I made it as her birthday card. I came up with the mince pie idea last year but didn't find the time to produce it, so it waited until this year. I decided it needed the pop of colour, so I added the hat. The plate is getting rather fragile due to the fine lines and so needs re-cutting which I will do this winter. I hand colour the beaks in orange watercolour, one of the few times I add colour in this way.

I have mentally always kept my cards rather separate from my prints, but I now realise they are almost like mini test pieces, a place to try out colour combinations and practise printmaking techniques. I have learned that the lettering on the seagull cards needs lightly inking with a rather hard roller otherwise the ink splodges and the letters merge. Similarly cards with fine detail are great lessons in pressure and inking techniques as smooth white card is very unforgiving to print onto, it doesn't bend or absorb the ink like paper does, it is much easier to lose the fine detail and have a messy splodge. On the other hand, the more textured eco-card I use for some other designs needs lots of ink and pressure to get a decent impression on.

I now feel much more positive about my cards, I feel they are contributing to my printmaking practice rather than being some sort of separate 'on the side' creative activity. Until now I don't think I have realised the positive impact they have on my practise, and I will mentally stop side lining them as being an unimportant part of what I do.

It may sound strange, but I also sometimes think of some of my sketch books as being purely for their own sake rather than actually being directly 'for work'. I discovered Shelley Rhodes book about sketchbooks and now can't resist priming my sketchbook pages with diluted ink washes, gesso, found papers and stitch. Sometimes these add a fantastic pop of something in just the right place, most of the time it's completely superfluous but I like it, the gesso adds some wonderful textures. I also sometimes create little bundles of lines or squares of texture and pattern with stitch just for their own sake.

Again, I think I need to start embracing these habits rather than thinking of them as being separate from my prints. I have added stitch to my prints in the past so I do think that these experiments are interesting and valid, but more important is that I start to recognise that all of this creativity is valid and interesting. As I start to experiment with new printmaking techniques and consider the combinations of technique that may be possible, I think my previous experiments may start to have more relevance.

I am gradually learning to embrace what I want to do rather than what I think I should do, or what might sell. There's no doubting the fact that my best work emerges when it's what I want to do.

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