ARTICLES:
Authored Article
for ISPA, Japan
The International Symposium on Print Art, December 2004
The Relationship between Photographic Images and Printmaking
in My Work
The
Purpose of Photography
My
work is fundamentally driven by a curiosity and a need
to contemplate existence coupled with a desire to communicate.
Notions of empathy, transience, and the fragility of
life have always been central to my investigations in
art.
For the past 30 years I have been exploring fundamental
questions through my work: why does matter deteriorate?
Why is everything continually changing state and always
in transition? What is the relationship between the
physical and the spiritual, between matter and energy?
It is through the process of creation that I move closer
to an understanding of the uncertain and temporary nature
of life, and it is photography that allows me to gather
and preserve visual records of meaningful experiences.
Over the years
the probing and exploration has taken different forms.
I have used what I see and what I touch as a metaphor
for matter. This activity of sensory observation recorded
in drawing and photography has provided me with the
opportunity to transform images through changing context.
It is then through printmaking that I present a changed
or altered reality.
In this context, photography plays a very potent role.
It suggests capturing, possessing, retaining, and immortalizing,
and yet it is merely an illusion. When we take a photograph
there is a sense that we have ‘saved’ something,
which may give a momentary sense of relief at possessing
something concrete. But what we have is only a reminder,
a residue, a very partial record, incomplete and inconsequential
without memory. It is this aspect of photography that
interests me. It is this fragment or leftover of experience
that creates an opening for interpretation and imagination.
And yet the photographic image, no matter how partial,
has the powerful potential to tap a collective memory.
Environment
and Experience
As
a child, when my father’s job relocated our family
to India, I experienced an intensely heightened awareness
of images, smells and sounds. The dramatic shift in
climate, culture, environment, and the wonder of a new
and exotic world fueled a very strong desire to remember
and preserve these experiences. An early fascination
with photography started at that time with my first
camera. I remember my father bringing back a very important
gift from Hong Kong to our home in New Delhi. It was
a Kodak Brownie camera. This small brown box provided
me with my first direct encounters with the magic of
‘capturing’ an image.
An early fascination with photography turned into something
more like an obsession some 12 years later with my first
exposure to printmaking. As an art student focusing
on painting in Toronto in the early 1970’s, image
and illusion were considered obsolete, and colour-field
abstract painting was the reigning tendency in art criticism.
There was pressure to work with pure abstraction, and
the autonomy of the artwork was considered a necessity
for serious Art. My continued interest and desire to
work with image content eventually found a sympathetic
and supportive environment late in my undergraduate
program when I took my first printmaking course. I discovered
a medium that seemed by nature to be inclusive, as opposed
to exclusive, and I ‘defected’ from painting.
In printmaking I was encouraged to experiment with representation
and abstraction and was introduced to new ways of employing
photography as a means rather than an end.
In 1973, at the age of 24, I moved to Edmonton and entered
the University of Alberta’s graduate program in
printmaking. I was enthralled by the seemingly unlimited
potential of the medium. During the following 2 1/2
years, under the guidance of Lyndal Osborne and Walter
Jule, I focused on a body of prints in which photography
and life drawing played a primary role. The intuitive
and uninterrupted activity of making a drawing, the
acute observation and direct application of mark, served
as an exercise to better empathize and identify with
the subject. The immediacy of photography and the act
of drawing were and still are precious to me as means
of touching and rendering without premeditation or conscious
thought.
During this period I began to do an investigative photographic
study using my own body as subject. Not having a very
extensive technical photographic background, I began
to ‘play’ with the lens and discovered that
by turning the lens around backwards and holding it
tightly against the camera body, I could take very close
up magnified photos. For two years I used my 35mm Pentax
in this manner. The depth of field was extremely limited
and to focus I would sway my body back and forth until
I found the desired focused area. I took photos of my
toes, my belly, creases in my foot, hand and leg. The
limitations of the method, the awkwardness of holding
the loose lens, and the difficult positions I found
myself in, combined with the lonely and private nature
of the activity, were just what I needed to loosen up
and let go of cliché habits and preconceptions.
The result was the creation of a series of black and
white photos that finally felt personal, sincere and
meaningful.
Developing
the Image
Combining
this method of recording body fragments with the influence
of my painting background, I worked on a series of lithography
and screen prints which used pale colour blends, translucent
washes, fluid gestures and suggestive intimate photographic
views of body parts. These magnified views of the human
body were manipulated and disguised through dramatic changes
in focus, dematerializing light intrusions and calligraphic
gestures that wove in and out of the whiteness of the
paper. The sensual and sometimes erotic suggestions of
the imagery were foiled by the soft, cool and contemplative
formal qualities creating tension between assertion and
denial. Photography and drawing, developed through the
process of printmaking, both played instrumental roles
in awakening a method of expression that fulfilled my
desire to explore notions of intimacy, fragility and existence.
In the early 1980’s, after a break from printmaking
in which I focused on a series of big detailed graphite
drawings, I began to explore the medium of etching. This
change was prompted by a recognition that I was too comfortable
with my medium and that the work was becoming too slick.
I was repeating myself and felt I needed to introduce
an element of awkwardness or crudeness, something to throw
me off balance. “I really felt the need for more
texture, more raw potential, so in 1983, when the opportunity
came to do a small etching for Walter Jule’s Print
Voice magazine, it fell into place. Printing [an edition
of] 1400 or so is a good way to learn about the medium:
it was an in depth fast course”. 1.
At the same time I started to work with close-up photographic
investigations of nature in an outdoor setting. My image
collection involved many crawls through the underbrush
to discover twisted and voluptuous mushrooms, hairy textured
moss and lichens, tangled roots, stones, bones, twigs,
decaying leaves and water. Our lakeside property became
my haven and library for source material and inspiration.
Located in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, our property
is covered with boreal forest, muskeg and typical Alberta
bush. The location is isolated and frequented by wildlife
such as deer, moose, bears, lynx and many small animals.
For many years this special place was the site of my second
studio where I spent many hours drawing and photographing.
It was at this time that photographic images of water
first took on a significant role in my prints. Water and
light have long been of major importance in my work, sometimes
revealing and sometimes dissolving; sometimes creating
illusion and sometimes obliterating. To quote from an
article on my work from this period:
"Liz Ingram’s prints look like some flash-lit
nocturnal encounter somewhere between a subterranean lake
and an alchemist’s lab, with stray bits of ravine
floor, with pools of mercury or sulphurous cave walls
…….chance scraps of organic debris, light
and the raw materials of printmaking (are transformed)
into documents that suggest the elusive, spiritual, and
primal …… Her prints illuminate, yet obscure,
the incidents they record: their subject is not the twigs
and eddies depicted but the flux of interaction and the
forces of growth and decay. She is concerned with internalizing
the external, with the synthesis of reality and illusion,
of observation and the imagination."2.
My desire to have more control over light when shooting
photos for my prints prompted a change in method, and
I began to set up studio ‘tableaux’ and to
use a medium format studio camera. This was a major shift
from the activity of collecting images outdoors in nature
to a synthetic staging process. The activity of creating
situations and photographing began to take on some of
the characteristics of a filmmaker. I often employed an
assistant who could alter the staged situation, (move
a rock or twig, or change the direction and flow of water),
while I stayed behind the camera. I also began to take
advantage of the flash reflections off my metal studio
sinks, which seemed to alter the image of water from its
familiar state to a physical and heavy liquid state more
akin to mercury or plasma.
In the early 1990’s, I again took a break from printmaking
and photography, and focused exclusively on drawing once
again. A strong desire to re-introduce the human body
into my work prompted me to return to the figure, and
I spent some time producing large oversized drawings of
the female model. At this time I was pregnant with my
second child, and wanted to avoid the chemicals of printmaking.
The long daily sessions in the studio, engaged in the
immediate and sensual activity of drawing, were inspiring
and revitalizing. I worked very intensively with charcoal
and built up dark images activated by the compression
and movement of dense marks.
These drawings were followed by prints that continued
to employ this direct approach of drawing and include
the figurative images once again. From the model, I worked
directly onto large copper plates. These plates were set
on an easel and with a drypoint needle, nails and other
tools, I gouged, scratched, scraped and sanded the plate
at a furious pace, developing an image that I could feel,
but I could not see until it was proofed. At the same
time I began to photograph water again. The bathroom became
my photo studio, and I experimented with ways to capture
images of the movement of water and reflected light. These
drypoint images from the figure and photographic images
of water were later combined into large litho and intaglio
prints.
Recent
Work
In
the past, the mix of photography and drawing in my prints
was often seamless. It was difficult to distinguish which
areas of the print were originally photographic and which
areas were the result of hand work. Over the past ten
years the photographic and drawing activities have become
more separated, and my prints have become more obviously
photographic in nature. I use photography more extensively
now, and due to the increased scale of the works, I employ
an old 4” x 5” large format camera with sheet
film. My recent work has continued the use of the bathroom
and the bathtub as a private and domestic site for photographing.
I have also started using digital output both to make
transparencies for my intaglio prints, and as actual elements
in installation. The digital camera has become an indispensable
research tool that I use to preview situations, to collect
visual data, and to ‘play’ with colour before
embarking on final shoots in large film format.
In 2001, I completed a large scale modular print called
“Fragile Source”, which became part of a larger
installation with the same title. The print is primarily
photographic in origin. After preliminary experimentation
with various lighting methods including a strobe light,
and a digital camera for trials, the process began. A
large format camera on a tripod was precariously balanced
over a full bath, with myself as model. With lights out
and in pitch black, the shutter was opened and the ‘water
play’ began. On cue, my assistant (husband) set
off a strong flash to ‘freeze the moment’.
After numerous such sessions, the selected sheet films
were digitally scanned at high resolution and then manipulated
on the computer, altering contrast, cropping, changing
scale, and often collaging two or more images together.
Other close-up photographs of body and skin were manipulated
in a similar fashion.
Files were then colour separated, output as large transparencies,
and shot onto photo sensitive polymer film on copper plates.
Plate making, colour proofing, and printing were done
with the assistance of master printers during a 1/2 year
residency at the Kätelhön Print Workshop in
Germany. Forty eight copper plates were printed as twelve
modular images. The resulting triptych was later overprinted
with text in screen-printed varnish, and mounted onto
constructed wooden boxes.
A desire to experiment with work that is more environmental,
and perhaps more directly experienced by the viewer, has
recently led me into the realm of print installation.
For years I have been fascinated with the play of light
and movement created when working on a light table with
photographic transparencies. When the layered Kodalith
films move and separate, the seductive and shimmering
moiré patterns created by the interaction of dots
mesmerize me and for many years, have stimulated ‘play’
in the darkroom. This has led to experimentation with
different dot patterns and sizes. As a result, actual
light, physical dimension, and sound are now a part of
my expressive vocabulary. The intangible flickering nature
of the back-lit images and the resulting sensory experience
speak directly and immediately to my fundamental ideas
and interests of fragility, intangibility, memory and
transience.
Experiencing
the Image
When sitting by a lake or an ocean,
we all feel the fundamental continuity between ourselves
and water. Children have an instinctive attraction to
water-play that is primal and universal. Whether it is
the spring melts in Canada, or the monsoons in India,
the effect is the same. Children sail sticks down rivulets,
touching, splashing, and delighting in the contact. Through
a visual exploration of this essential relationship with
water, I am drawing attention to water’s preciousness
and vulnerability, and to its soothing, magical quality.
I believe that water has the capacity to bring us back
into intimate contact with ourselves and our oneness with
nature.
Water for me also acts as a metaphor for transition and
transformation, and ultimately for the universal source
of life. Water is so unique, so changeable, so versatile
and so transient that it always remains beyond our grasp.
Yet we are basically made of water – approximately
98%. In its physical manifestation it shifts easily between
solid, liquid and gaseous states. As a symbol it is one
of the four fundamental Greek elements, and in all religious
practices it refers to purifying and cleansing both physically
and spiritually.
In the Fragile Source installation, shimmering images
of body in close-up, revealing pores, skin texture, hairs
and limbs immersed in bubbling water, combine with a sound
track which fuses a woman’s soft, erotic sighing
with the flow of a boreal forest stream. In this installation
I am attempting to tap memories that further the experience
of our interconnectedness with nature.
A recent piece, a commission for the Edmonton International
Airport, offered me the opportunity to present images
at an increased scale in a public place. In this case
the images were manipulated and output digitally. Although
this forum was in some ways restrictive, the piece, Touching
Water: Anticipation and Memory addresses the same issues
- “having a sense of our actions in the context
of the whole. It is about trying to express our understanding
of our context – that is our place within the whole.”3.
Conclusion
Man Ray wrote about his own work in
1934:
"Seized in moments of visual detachment during periods
of emotional contact, these images are oxidized residues,
fixed by light and chemical elements, of living organisms.
No plastic expression can ever be more than a residue
of an experience. ……..For, whether a painter,
emphasizing the importance of an idea he wishes to convey,
introduces bits of chromos alongside his handywork, or
whether another, working directly with light and chemistry,
so deforms the subject as to almost hide the identity
of the original, and creates a new form, the ensuing violation
of the medium employed is the almost perfect assurance
of the author’s convictions. A certain amount of
contempt for the medium employed to express an idea is
indispensable to the purest realization of this idea."
4.
It is in this spirit that I have employed the marriage
of photography and printmaking, and it is in the spirit
of fascination, love and perhaps some disdain for my expressive
media that I will continue to pursue future investigations
which will also likely continue to include some digital
techniques. Photography in printmaking has given me the
vocabulary and the means to explore issues and to experience
a rich creative fulfillment that I may otherwise have
missed. Digital imaging and printing now gives me added
methods for capturing, recording and manipulating photographic
fragments. Printmaking, the core medium of my work, is
able to unite photography and digital methods with hand
working, that enduring and seductively tactile activity
demanding sustained energy, and physical contact that
translates directly into the image.
Footnotes:
From an article by Susan Menzies in
the SNAP Newsletter, August 1989, Edmonton
Ibid
John Ralston Saul (in reference to Animism), On Equilibrium,
Penguin Books, 2002
From an article by Man Ray entitled The Age of light in
Man Ray Photographs, East
River Press, Paris and New York, 1934
Additional
Articles
Article in Folio Magazine, 2001 - Liz Ingram's Water Based Art Runs Deep, y Gilbert
Bouchard
Article for the Art Gallery
of the South Okanagan,
1995 - Under the Skin, a review of figurative drawing
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