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 You have arrived at your destination. "Motel DeSoto II" 9"X7" 12-color reduction woodcut, using Renaissance Graphics oil inks and Shina plywood on machine made sulfite paper.

This building has been demolished to make way for another vacant lot in Olean, NY. We we're lucky enough to see her shortly before a Buffalo development company bought her.  When I printed "Motel DeSoto" in 2013, I'd expressed hope that she'd be saved. No luck. She has a sister in Bradford PA of similar design, though the sign has been modernized.

 

This is actually the third time I've tried to do this scene. I originally started with blocks of bold color, and stopped after two colors because it wasn't my vision. The second try was more my vision, but not quite there. This latest pass, while much closer, still misses for me. So, we'll see where I am with it in 7 years!

There's much I like in MDII, and I've learned a great deal, which I'm excited to put into the next print.👃

Year End Cavalcade of Cartoons

Field of Dreams

Several years ago my wife and I were driving to East Aurora to see a movie. We love to take the country roads for the scenery. There is a farm just outside of town that is beautiful in any season (even the godawful endless Western New York winters). That summer, there were two haywagons and a tractor out in the field, just begging photographers. We stopped and started snapping photos, expecting to enter the into the Erie County Fair. We never did. I came across the photos last week, and they were demanding artistic attention. I recently constructed a new jig for printing that allows me to use rainbow rolls (the blend of color in the sky; also used for the grass and trees). I'm very happy how this 9x7 8 color print went.

Concept: Proved

Pleasantly imperfect, the very first Napping Cat Press Card is born!

Creative Detour

My first full cartoon, as part of the Center for Cartoon Studies 1 Week Workout. A sweet old granny hides her secret identity as a nasty Facebook Troll.

I'm anything but prolific as a printmaker, as a brutal weekday schedule makes for precious little studio time (excuses, excuses...). But even though I'm not printing, it doesn't mean I'm not WORKING on creative goals.

I'm known for my workplace doodles. Past coworkers still mention the little cartoons I used to draw on boxes in stockrooms. This one I sent to my wife in March.

Four years ago, in a bid to better myself as an artist, I took a drawing class through the community college, which was very helpful, though I've not been good about obsessively drawing.

A political cartoon. This inspired me to learn the craft. I figured, if I wanted to dabble, I'd better get damn good at it or no one would get the message. 

Then, about a month ago, I confronted a longtime dream: cartooning. And I challenged myself to attack that goal for 90 days to see how far I could advance simply through daily work of at least 30 minutes.

So, that's where I am. I'm excited to see how my wanderings manifest in my printing.

A quick self portrait with ink wash. From last week.

 #CCS1WeekWorkout

This was a fun print, and it was a lot of fun walking you through the process.



"Buffalo Greyhound" 2018 Jeffrey Dean
Reduction woodcut, image 9"x7", Renaissance Graphic oil ink on Masa paper, 10 colors printed from a single shina plywood block, pulled on an antique cast iron book press and hand spoon-fed. Edition TBD

Almost Home

One last color will finish the job. This building, which still stands in the 600 block of Main St. in downtown Buffalo, opened as the Greyhound Bus Lines station in 1941. Designed by William S. Arrasmith, a St. Louis-based architect who designed hundreds of stations for the company, the station was operational until the 1970s. After a stint as a police station, the building, in the center of Buffalo's Theater District, now houses the Alleyway Theater.

I first noticed the building many years ago as I took the subway down Main St, probably returning from Buffalo State College. The rounded windows, curved edges and stainless steel stripe across the canopy, along with the blue tiles, suggested that it was a little too retro to be authentic, and I assumed, up until fairly recently, that it was a 1980s homage to art deco. But authentic it is, and I'm glad that it has kept most of it's charm. As you can see, the canopy, which I'm told was neon-lit, extended up ward and included a tlied sign for the company. The sign doesn't show well here, and it has long since disappeared, but the scar where it attached to the building next door is still visible.

Lost & Found

There is no shortage of songs about the love of the American highway. It's in our DNA, whether we were born here, came here or long to be here. Often the songs that celebrate the freedom of the open road take a melancholy bent at some point. Because the open road, as exciting and mythical as it can be, is also fraught with fear and loneliness, and very often travel leads one to take in the unexplored expanses, uncharted roads, and dark alleys of the heart.

One of the finest lyrics to define this ache of self-exploration amidst the thrill of exploration comes in Simon & Garfunkel's "America":

"Kathy, I'm lost", I said,
Though I knew she was sleeping.
"I'm empty and aching and
I don't know why."

New Arrival

I hate traveling. I live in constants (unrealistic) fear that we will win the lottery, and my wife will drag me all over the world. Ugh. I mean, I like BEING somewhere, I like SEEING things, but traveling, I just don't enjoy it. Unfamiliar places put me into a small panic. I love Chicago, but we arrived on a Sunday evening, and downtown was as desolate as Buffalo on a Sunday evening. Looking for a cheap place to get a quick bite, we found nothing but a Subway restaurant. Thrilling. I'm sure there were other places, but, like I said, new places put me into a mode of constant worry.

I'd love to SEE the world, I'm just not keen on how to GET there.

Oddly, I love to drive, long aimless drives to nowhere. But if you give me an itinerary, I'd rather be....why, I'd rather be down in the studio!

Night Lights

"Sans Furniture" Reduction woodcut print, 8 colors, printed on Masa paper from single shina plywood block using Renaissance Graphic oil ink on an antique cast iron book press with additional burnishing via wooden spoon. Edition TBD. First print of 2018.

I love this print. Folks familiar with Hamburg know Sans Furniture, which has occupied a mid century modern building in the heart of the Village for my entire life time and beyond. While their bold storefront dominates on Buffalo Street, the rear Pine Street entrance, seen here, is cosier and more inviting. I pass by often at night on weary walks home from the bus stop, peering into the windows warm with the golden glow of artificial homescapes.

As a color mixer by trade, I'm most proud of the colors here. The sky, yellow gray with the aura of street light, the warm interior. The ceiling was a crap shoot -- I left it unfinished in my drawing, unsure how to execute.

It may be my most favorite print yet.

Well, This Is Awkward

I've talked about this in past posts: awkward stages. They usually involve the need to print a light color over a dark color, sometimes as a buffer against a bold color like red, sometimes because I forgot a color, sometimes because the second to last color just seems lighter. This color, a yellow gray, had to appear now for structural reasons -- applying ink is easier in the later states if you have more relief scattered around the block.

But it also offered a happy accident. I intended to have the sky be black, but I like this color for the sky. I think it captures the glow of sodium arc lamps in heavy humid air. I'll think about it.

The thing with awkward stages, in art and life, is just to remember that there is purpose to them, and surprises await.

Come On In

It's hard to name artists who inspire me -- the list is too long, and always growing. My first art infatuation was Picasso, when I was just 11. Then the usual suspects for a kid -- Dali, Warhol, Pollock. Anyone weird. I still respect them all, but when I look at this print with just two colors to go, only two names come to mind -- Hopper and Burchfield. Contemporaries, Burchfield, in my opinion, was the far superior artist, with his work approaching and crossing the boundaries of abstract expressionism. Hopper is revered for his "commentaries" on isolation and desolation, a notion he had scoffed at, admitting that he was only trying to study light. Both geniuses, both inspiring this print.
.

In the introduction to his novel, "Birdy," William Wharton offered the following poem:

"There are bird tracks
And nothing in the sky
Something lived, left
And left something"

That speaks to what I find fascinating about these storefronts, aglow as if ready to fling open their doors to commerce, but closed, locked, and still. Rest, repose, sometimes, in the case of the old empty Woolworths I used to peek into, dead.

Think of your desk, or your garage, or someplace untidy with the folderol of life, and imagine you never return to it again (let's not be maudlin -- you moved, you retired, you stepped out to get a giant Paula's Donut, you are creating new bird tracks on another beach somewhere). What would someone coming on the scene think? What story is being told about you in the universal language of stuff?

Seeing the Light

Ten years ago, when we lived in Buffalo, I took a side job delivering newspapers in the southeast corner of the city, a somewhat rough and rundown area called, ironically, Lovejoy. I'd deliver my route somewhere around four or five in the morning, just the darkest time. I saw some crazy things in that neighborhood, as the drunks stumbled home, the skunks roamed for a snack. But the solitude of that hour was calming. The houses with the droopy window eyes, the yawning garage doors, the whole world lulled to slumber by the lonely howl of a train off in the distant railyard. Or maybe I'm remembering Snoopy as the World's War I flying ace in "Great Pumpkin." Anyway, one day I had to go to that neighborhood during the day. I couldn't find my way around -- the garish colors of the houses, rotted roofs and torn sidewalks that we're rubbed out and faded by the charcoal of night's dark. Daylight sure has it's beauty, of course. But the dark of night offers a glorious pallet, and a warmth of its own

Seen here, three pools of color, trying for the perfect one. Sometimes you have to go on faith. Reduction printmaking is deep on faith -- you never no if it will work out until the end.

Floored

For most of my formative years, up until the last decade or so, I was a night owl. You could find me at 2:00 am walking the quiet streets. A favorite place to go was the village shopping center. I loved to wander up and down the concrete walks, looking in the empty shops, quiet and cozy, with only a few lights left on. Woolworths, Pleasures & Pastimes, Ulbrich's Stationers. I can't say why I was drawn to these vacant night scenes, or why I still occasionally wander over there (P&P is now a Tuesday Morning, Woolworths is a closed tanning salon, and Ulbrich's was long ago demolished to become a Rite Aid parking lot). But a few things around there stand up against time....

Pop the Cork!

Happy New Year, folks.  I'm starting a little late on my first print of '18 -- I decided that it was time for a new brayer and new knives. Now that they're here, I've begun. Feels very good.

I want this print to be revealed as I go. As you see it develop, I'll add some observations and insight into this print, which I hope will lead to a larger exploration of the subject.

I live in the town I grew up in, a small pretty village South of Buffalo. I spent many late nights as a kid walking the streets in the wee hours, watching the business district change over the years. I saw it bustle with shoe stores and grocery stores and liquor stores, dissolve into vacant shopfronts and demolished buildings, rouse again with offices and new structures, empty out again as the economy collapsed, then surge back to life with an infusion of hipsters.

Through it all, though, there have been a few constants.....

Back & Forth

Years ago I worked in a shop with a talented printmaker who had studied under Frasconi. He showed me a number of his large portrait woodcuts, intricate and beautiful. The backgrounds, however, were just a series of scribbles made with a Steel. He commented that after the portrait was complete, he got bored. I get that, and the struggle with background is real.

I have struggled with background since I was in grade school. How tedious to detail what's BEHIND your subject. And too much detail camouflages the subject.

Luckily, I also study cartooning, and that has helped me immensely. Take any cartoon, and you will see most are not detailed, and instead they use spare symbols to impress upon a viewer the IDEA of what the symbols represent. Three rectangles in a blank field is a wall. A squiggle represents water, a few jagged spikes may be grass.

To that sensibility, I added an old technique I learned in kindergarten, but I've found traces it's roots to the surrealists: scribble drawings. I used the same technique with the Newt print, and found that it gives much depth. I imagine you will see more of this as I go.

This print was more an exercise than a work, but I'm quite happy with it. I'm very happy with the colors. I'm obsessed with photographing flowers, but I still haven't developed that as a skill for printmaking, thus the more abstract impression seen here.

Let's Have Fun, Guy!

The first print of 2017 is well underway and following close on the heels of this accomplishment is the first problem of 2017! But it was easily resolved and I'm back at it.

First, the print is a redo of a print I first began back in 2014, then tackled a couple more times. This was the last one:

It wasn't bad, but it wasn't quite what I'd wanted. It had some whimsy, and I liked the cartoony nature of it. But I felt I could have done better -- I was using lousy birch plywood, and I don't think I'd yet learned to properly sharpen my knives. Additionally, as evidenced here, I was still a long way from finding the cure for the ink problems I was having. The entire background should have been deep black, but the ink pulled back into tiny pools on the print after pulling it from the block.

All of those problems are gone now, and here is the print with two colors:

You can see the contrast really well between the light and dark colors of the mushroom. I was very, very happy with this. I hung the prints up to dry. The next morning, I went to do my next color and found this:

I photographed this so that you could still see the image, but in straight light, it looked like a brown square. The ink had dried to almost the exact color of the first color. Anyone who has painted a room or furniture knows this effect. As an ink tech for a printing company, I was extremely surprised, as I have never witnessed this with ink. I don't do a lot of tones, so it's not a huge problem, but it sure was disappointing. Luckily, I was able to print over this with a lighter version, and it looked awesome. 

Wind At My Back

Every year my wife and I enter various competitions in the creative arts building at the Erie County Fair (Hamburg, NY). We've been doing it for close to 15 years now, and love it every year. It's a pleasure to see such great art and craft work by our neighbors, and I'd be lying if it isn't a thrill to see a ribbon on your work. This year our craft work didn't collect any ribbons, but I was pretty surprised to find that not only did "Sweet Breeze" breeze into port flying a bright blue flag, but a green one as well. The green denotes a special prize, usually from one of the sponsors of the competition ("Autumn Camper" from a few years ago received a green from Hyatt's art supplies). And a first for me was a ribbon -- blue no less -- (AND a green) for a photograph taken at the Fair last year.

If you get a chance to attend the Fair this year, please stop by and see all of the great work from your friends and neighbors, and if you have a creative bent, PLEASE pledge to participate next year. You'll be glad you did!!!

Maroon Loon

The second color, the eponymous maroon, went down nicely.The foundation colors are important, but you can't really see much going on until the dark colors go down. Usually, the darker colors go on way down the line, but since this is a night picture, the dark comes on quickly.

I'm still getting used to the linoleum. It cuts wonderfully, but it's easy to dent the block around the lines, so I have to keep the tools sharp. I also don't need to cut as deep as with the wood. I also need to refine the jig I use to print, as it's causing crimping of the paper in the corners. These are pretty easy issues to resolve, I think. Right now, I am just having fun doing the work, something I've been missing for a while. It's good to be back.