The Matrix in Printmaking
Considering the role of the Matrix
The matrix is the origin of the print; the physical surface which is manipulated to hold the ink, which is then transferred onto a substrate (eg. paper), often using some form of pressure. In Printmaking: A Complete Guide to Materials and Processes, the matrix is defined as the 'plate, block, stone, stencil, screen or other means of carrying image information that is ultimately printed onto another surface, typically paper' (Fick and Grabowski, 2023, p.8).
Kathryn Reeves in The Re-vision of Printmaking describes the matrix as 'an inky middle ground between paper and pressure' and describes the matrix as the 'centre of activity', from which the print derives but which is, she notes, itself absent from the print (Reeves, 1999). Reeves considers the implications of this absence, describing it also as a 'distancing'; 'decentering'; a 'loss incurred' from the print itself (Reeves, 1999). This is not to say that the print is diminished in any sense of value, quality or otherwise. Rather, suggests Reeves, the effect is to trigger in the viewer a compulsive curiosity about process; about how the print has been made. In Reeve's words, it accounts for the viewer's 'fanatical concentration on media and matrix' (Reeves, 1999); the matrix being the how and the what of the print, the origin and the original.
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Is there a compulsion to strive for an understanding of process, a tendency to want to deconstruct the layers of activity within a print? For me, this is part of the intellectual spark of viewing an artwork, an appreciation of nuance and quality through process which only enhances my visceral experience of the work. For me, viewing a print involves oscillating between looking at and looking within.
Fick and Grabowski, in their guide to Printmaking, describe the matrix as the 'locus of the artistic authority of the work' (2023, P.8); the 'centre of activity' (Reeves, 1999) which potentially locates the print as a 'non-centre', describing a disconnect between the art object (the print) and its generative object (the matrix). ​​​​​Learning the term 'matrix' is more than just giving name to something; there is something about printmaking which requires a deconstruction of the layers of activity, a practice for which language is necessary. In this sense, reflecting on my art in these terms has the effect of making it seem curiously back-to-front, such as printmaking is. Reeves writes about printmaking: 'When left becomes right, right becomes left, and up becomes down, anything is possible in a curiouser and curiouser through-the-looking-glass world' (Reeves, 1999).
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I can at times feel like a sculptor of objects, investing time in crafting material only to then re-purpose it, then never let see the light of day. Sometimes, I think, the plate or block might be the 'centre of activity' and the 'art object'. ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​The inked woodblocks from my Japanese printmaking have become other artworks; Shima ply reliefs saturated with watercolour. The means by which ink is absorbed into the fibres of the wood, integral to the Japanese process, becomes a luminous stain which enhances the grain of the wood. The matrix is something between a painting and a sculptural relief which I want to explore in my work further, by inlaying the low relief with milky resin or wax.
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Woodblock from 'Bones' edition, 2024
Woodblock from 'Things' edition, 2024
Woodblock from 'Bones' edition, 2024
Cut out woodblock with the scroll saw
Woodblock pieces on enlarged lumen print, 2024
Woodblock pieces on aquatint print, 2024
Cut out woodblock with the scroll saw
The Matrix as the work or within the work
​Shima ply woodblocks from the Japanese printing process
Cutting the woodblock and mixed media experiments in the studio
​Cut woodblock on scanned lumen print, 29 x 42cm 2024.
Cut woodblock on aquatint print, 14 x 20cm, 2024
Japanese woodcut print on Kitakata paper, 25 x 19cm, 2024
In further experiments with my woodblocks, I used the hydraulic press to emboss the block (matrix) into its print. In a similar technique to chine collé, I used nori paste to stick the thin Japanese print onto a dampened sheet of 400gsm cartridge paper before placing it in the press.
​In further studio experimentation, I learned to use the scroll saw to cut around the low relief in the woodblocks. In the example, I was left with puzzle-type pieces which I played with in the studio, placing them amongst photo collages and re-photographing them.
I enjoy the practice of photographing 3D objects on top of photographs because it allows me to play with form and scale, as well as re-invent contexts. I like a shadow cast on a photograph; forms within forms.
What is it to present fragments of the matrix alongside or even within its print? Is it to draw attention to print's potential for duality? (Reeves, 1999). For me, it integrates the crafted sculptural quality of the matrix with the print itself, and makes us think about the craft and materiality of print: the wood's relationship with the paper, alongside that of the matrix and its print.
Reeves suggests it is this duality, reversal and 'capability of dual perception' which posits printmaking as a powerful tool for exploring these themes in a Post-modern era. The above experiments are just that: experiments, with fragments of studio work. However, they make me consider how I can juxtapose some of these 3D artefacts of printmaking alongside relevant imagery; photographic or print; to create new meanings.
Devotional Prints and the Print as Object
Christian Woodcuts
In his short essay Fragments for an Art History of Media, the art historian and writer Beat Wyss, takes us through the beginnings of print media, from the invention of the printing press around 1436 to the 'first printed porn' in 1524 (Wyss, 1997). Wyss' overall argument is convincing and hugely relevant to my research, as he credits the power of media not just for its ability to communicate to the masses, but also to its ability to address the individual, in what he terms 'private encounters with information'. Also fascinating, is Wyss' overarching link between technology and mysticism. The sturdy visible power of clockwork, wheels, axles and other mechanical objects are replaced by invisible electric currents and what Wyss terms 'apparently aimless energy'. Wyss also writes of the imago, images depicting the divine and vehicles of belief, and the invention of writing which, when situated alongside the imago creates powerful concepts of divine law and authority (Wyss, 1997).
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The print as an individual, private tool for religious contemplation came about through the medium of the woodcut. As Wyss writes, the production of papermills in Germany around 1390 provided artists with the means to create small woodcut prints on individual sheets of paper which Wyss describes as 'devotional images'. These prints were cheaply produced and purchased, allowing all classes of people to worship within their own homes and while travelling. To Wyss, this 'facilitated the renunciation of the imago' and resulted in a 'folk piety' that freed people from the dominant schedule of Church-going and resulted in a 'de-regulation of spirituality' (Wyss, 1997).
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Pietá, woodcut hand-coloured with watercolour, Southern Germany, 38.7 x 28.8 cm, c, 1460
The aspect of this which chimes most with my research is the relation of the print object or 'imago' with the individual; the private transaction between the image-object and the person. I am interested in the object-ness of print which then brings to mind issues of commodity, fetishisation and mythology, as well as deep matters of faith and materiality versus immateriality. This brings me to my deepening fascination with religious relics which encompass all of these themes within their distinct object aesthetic.
The emancipatory power of the devotional print not only freed the individual from the regulation of the Church. As Wyss describes, the owner of the paper print, in contemplating their image, might then begin to form their own spiritual interpretation (Wyss, 1997). 'In the eyes of the Church', writes Wyss, ' these cheap woodcuts, often carelessly slapped onto the paper, opened the floodgates to heresy' (Wyss, 1997). In the concluding paragraph of Wyss' essay, the writer claims that technical progress in the media generates 'contradictory processes', and this is one such example. Wyss concludes: 'mass publication promotes private encounters with information' (Wyss, 1997), and it is in such individual acts of contemplation that traction is gained in a multitude of ways.
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Tantric Paintings from Rajasthan
I came across the book 'Tantra Song: Tantric paintings from Rajasthan' years before I became a printmaker, when the majority of my practice was painting. Compiled by the French poet Franck André Jamme, the book contains beautifully clear images of what seem, to the contemporary viewer, to be a curious series of abstract paintings on tatty yellowing paper. In fact, the book displays a rare collection of Hindu tantric meditation aides; highly symbolic imagery intended to be visualised during tantric meditation practices. ​
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Just as the images depicted on Christian woodcuts allowed for individual worship or 'private encounters with information' (Wyss, 1997), the tantric paintings are used to awaken heightened states of consciousness during private meditation. Each abstract form, painted in various media (watercolour, tempera, gouache, ink and hand-made colours), has a distinct symbolic meaning, notes Jamme. He writes: 'Each of these images has its own particular, fixed meaning. A spiral represents energy; blue: consciousness; an inverted black triangle: the goddess Kali. etc.' (Jamme, 2011. p105.)
​To Wyss, in his 1997 essay, the power of early woodcuts in aiding private worship became a power to interpret dominant ideologies for oneself. These personal encounters with printed images served to emancipate, because of the object-ness of the print; its ability to be kept close; slotted into a book; pinned to the wall, or carried whilst travelling. The woodcuts themselves, single-leaf prints 'carelessly slapped onto the paper' (Wyss, 1997) were transportive and transformative.
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The object-ness of these tantric paintings is evident, on close inspection, in their physical materiality and crucial to their visualised state. The artist paints on a found surface; salvaged paper which could be up to 90 years old. Yellowed, creased and stained in places, it sometimes contains a palimpsest of writing or small holes from being pinned to a surface. Jamme notes: 'On paper, the blots and splatters, the patched holes and tears, all the various anomalies appear to have been appreciated and used by our "painters" in almost systematic fashion. A sign, in any case, of their plastic know-how, whether deliberate or not' (Jamme, 2011. p. 106). The use of the word 'plastic' by Jamme recognises these works as 'objects' and highlights the importance of this object-status in the 'private encounter' of the tantric adept.​
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As expressive and enigmatic as they seem in their simple abstraction, the compositions do not spring from the artist's imagination. The artist is anonymous, and forms, compositional arrangements and colour are passed down and learned according to a strict set of guidelines. Jamme describes the hand-reproduction of these works, a description likening them to a variable print edition:
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André Padoux, in his accompanying essay, writes that the paintings are 'fashioned according to a canonical set of rules' (Padoux, 2011 p.10). 'Theirs', he writes, 'is not a field for creative imagination: the imagining adept or devotee "sees" in spirit only what the texts prescribe' (Padoux, 2011). In this way, the paintings are purely visual aides, and the anonymous painter, described by Padoux as 'not an artist, but a craftsman' (Padoux, 2011).
I am fascinated here by the unique nature of reproduction; their tool-like utility; the salvaged paper support materially confirming their object-status. This, in contrast with the divine content of the abstract forms: a 'distinct visual lexicon used to awaken heightened states of consciousness' (Rinder, 2011). The Tantric paintings, like the Christian woodcuts, are fascinating as examples of the print-object-image actively transporting and transforming. The object-ness of the artwork is important to me; in both examples there is something significant in the physical materiality of the work. Because it can be touched and kept close? Because it can be owned or possessed? Because it has an objective use, like an instrument or device? In both examples, there is both a tangible material use and an intangible immaterial use. Use suggests an action, or at least something active, or something acting upon. A transaction.
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'The structure, the register of these images is always the same, from one sister-piece to another, their lines, shades and dimensions vary only slightly each time, according to the hand holding the brush, its talent and know-how." (Jamme, 2011. p.100.)
Tantric painting on found paper, Sanganer and Delhi, 35 x 29cm, 2000
Tantric painting on found paper, near Udaipur, 30 x 22cm, 1995
Human Presence in the Artwork
In researching relics and objects of spiritual value, I have been examining the interrelationship between the material and the immaterial, and the process of transforming matter into meaning. My recent work has involved deconstructing and re-making relics using collaged photographs and assembled materials, which I then re-photograph and re-present as etchings and digital prints. Alongside this process of almost ritually re-creating the aesthetic qualities of the relics, I have been considering the role of the human in the activation and authentication of meaning.
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In reflecting on the installation as I plan my next steps, I feel that there is a disconnect between myself (the body) and the object, the print. They each exist within separate frames, and there is no embeddedness. I am reminded of the artist Paul Thek's description of the 'intransigent stuff of the body', and his series of sculptures titled Technological Reliquaries being a way to process this unrelenting, undeniable body, which for him was a great thing of fear. 'I work with it to detach myself from it', he is reported to have said in The Artist's Artist (Falckenberg, H. Weibel, P. 2009). As I continue my body of work and my research, I aim to bring the digital image (the photograph, the film) into the same plane, so that imagery interplays with the embodied mark, whether in the form of drawing, print, paint or sculpture. I am interested in finding ways to process body dis-orientation and looking to embodied practices of making as a way to counter this within my own work, and in a wider social and pedagogical context.
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In Phenomenology, meaning and experience is embodied. Just as we are not disembodied minds, the body is not an inert object. There is an emphasis on understanding ourselves in and through the world. There is no 'inner self'; we cannot understand ourselves as a subject apart from our body. In this sense, the way we find meaning in the world must be through our body; our body oriented within space.
In Merleau-Ponty's text The World of Perception, the philosopher writes about the interrelationship between mind and body as 'the idea that rather than a mind and a body, man is a mind with a body, a being who can only get to the truth of things because its body is, as it were, embedded in those things' (Merleau-Ponty, M. 1948. p.42).
Digital photograph, 2024
Relic Egg, aquatint on Somerset paper, 24 x 16cm, 2025
I see the act of re-making the relics as a kind of ritualistic form of play, in the way that artists make sense of the world through their interaction with material. In a poem by the British author Christopher Reid, human grief is explored in A Scattering; the image of elephants playing with the bones of their relations in a 'deliberate ritual, ancient and necessary', as if to activate them somehow, not in the hope of reviving, but to activate new 'hopeful arrangements', and gain some understanding of the ungraspable.
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In an attempt to 'embody' my work, I began to create films of my hand and body moving in and out of focus behind a sheet of grey frosted acrylic. This, I projected upwards through the same dark material, giving the impression of the hand contained within or behind the surface. Examining this in my artist's statement, I write that 'Evoking the venerative act of relic-touching, the installation examines the role of the body in the activation and authentication of meaning.'
Digital film, 2024
Installation, film and mixed media, 2024
Installation (detail), film and mixed media, 2024
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Grabowski, B. Flick, B (2023) Printmaking: A Complete Guide to Materials and Processes. London: Laurence King Publishing
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Reeves, K (1999). The Re-vision of Printmaking, in Pelzer-Montada, R. (ed.) Perspectives on Contemporary Printmaking. Manchester University Press.
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B, Wyss (1997). Fragments for an art history of media: electr(on)ic thinking, in Pelzer-Montada, R (ed.) Perspectives on Contemporary Printmaking. Manchester University Press, pp.16-24.
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Jamme, F A (2011). Tantra Song: Tantric painting from Rajasthan. California: Siglio Press.
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Hahn, C (2017). The Reliquary Effect: Enshrining the Sacred Object. London: Reaktion Books.
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Falckenberg, H. Weibel, J (2009). Paul Thek: The Artist's Artist. Massachussets: MIT Press
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Merleau-Ponty, M. (1948). The World of Perception. Reprint, Oxford: Routledge, 2004
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Reid, C. (2009). A Scattering. London: Arete Ltd