Years ago, I fell in love with the medium of monotype.  For me, it became a printmaking version of the gesture drawing. It is amazing how the medium pulls you mentally in two almost opposite directions:  on one hand, you have to become fluid and intuitive, let go of your rigid plans and follow the dictates of the medium; on the other hand, in order to make your monotype successful, you need to impose very strong light and dark structures, and always keep those structures in mind while executing the image. After printing, there is very little you can do to correct any mistake, so it is always something of a gamble. It is always possible that after you’ve spent a wonderful 4 hours creating the image, once you’ve printed it, you find that it is all wrong and you have to tear it up. That is the price you pay for the quickness and spontaneity. 

There are things monotypes do well and things they reject. Any small detail is difficult to pull off well. The more stubborn you are and the more skillful you become, the more detail-oriented you can go. The payback for the challenges of detail rendering is the medium’s incredible ability to create Light. Strong or subtle, atmospheric, expressive, magical Light.

In this exhibition, I chose images that represent some different directions a monotype can take. In the cycle of four monotypes that are named and themed after musical pieces, I utilized stencils—which help provide a certain level of stability and predictability with printing, but also present the interesting problem of how to integrate the stencils with the rest of the image.  In the same images I added small watercolor details at the ends of the branches (because I couldn’t resist the opportunity to draw twigs).

The other images are “pure,” with no stencils or post-printing additions.  Some images are almost entirely gesture.

Why do I love this medium and keep coming back to it again and again?  It keeps my mind and hand very disciplined, while demanding constant intuitive adjustment. When making a monotype, I have to know what the most important thing about the image is and always keep it in the front of my mind, while being infinitely flexible about the particulars of the way to get to it.  In those 3-4 hours of creating the image, I can change anything, quickly and sweepingly, I am responsible for everything on the plate, and I have ultimate power with it.  And I have to be prepared to lose it all. It must be a metaphor for something.