Photogravure is a process invented in the 19th Century by which a two dimensional photograph is transmuted into a three dimensional etching plate. The images become a series of grooves and indentations on a metal plate that is then covered with ink, wiped clean except for the ink remaining in the grooves, and then run through an etching press with damp paper lying on top of the plate. If successful, the image is transferred onto the paper. This is an intaglio process, essentially identical to that employed by Durer and Rembrandt centuries ago, although those earlier artists scratched their images onto a wax covered plate with a stylus (burin). Alfred Stieglitz was one of the early masters of photogravure and used the process in the printing of his seminal magazine, Camera Work. The earlier processes involved harsh and potentially dangerous chemicals, expensive copper plates and dangerous acids. More recently, polymer plates, developed in water rather than acids, permit a more benign workflow.
Until recently, polymer photogravure plates were exposed twice to ultraviolet light, first through a random patterned screen (called an acquatint or stochastic screen) and then through a photographic positive image. Another alternative has emerged — and this is the one I use — by which an inkjet printer is used to place the positive image directly on the surface of the polymer plate before exposure to the UV light. No aquatint screen is employed. This is the “direct to plate, polymer process” or “DPT”. There is a significant debate among practitioners concerning the relative merits of each process (as well as every other aspect of photogravure making.) For me, DPT has proven to be the tool that works for me. I’m a pragmatic romantic, not a purist.
Since I began photographing seriously in the early 1990’s, I have been moved by the Photo Secessionists (early Edward Steichen, F. Holland Day, Clarence White) as well as the French photographer, Robert Demachy. I have tried several alternative processes through the years but it was photogravure that captured my greatest interest. In late 2019 I attended a local art sale and was captivated by etchings done by Andrea van Voorst van Beest. There is something about ink on paper that really excites me. I would turn 70 in a month. So I decided it was time to take the plunge (“if not now, when?”), purchase an etching press and learn how to make the photogravures. I bought my first press (a used Dick Blick 906) for $300 off Facebook Marketplace in December 2019. This is a very capable small press and a great tool.
I then drove up to the Presque Isle area for a three day in-person intensive course with a wonderful Maine artist, printer and poet, Jeanne Wells. https://thingsofthisworld.com/index.html My time with Jeanne was invaluable and really got me started down the road toward creating photogravure. (She also teaches during the summer at the Maine Media Workshops. https://www.mainemedia.edu/faculty/list/jeanne-wells/).
I took a second course via zoom with an Australian photographer named Silvi Glattauer. https://www.silvi.com.au/photopolymer-photogravure-art I can’t overstate the importance of my study with Silvi. One of the most technologically challenging aspects of direct-plate photogravure is preparing the image files for printing on the polymer plate (See Part II of this blog.) There are scores of techniques for performing the necessary manipulations in Photoshop, most of which I found mind-boggling. By contrast, Silvi has created a straight forward protocol, including a special curve. Silvi’s process greatly reduce the complexity of this aspect of photogravure, leading to predictable results with a minimal investment of time at the computer.
After my time with Jeanne and SIlvi, I was hooked. In January 2020 I was making progress and decided to jump in with both feet. I ordered a serious table top press manufactured by Takach. https://www.takachpress.com/etchtbl/index.htm And then Covid happened. I think my press was one of the last to leave the factory before it shut down. It arrived on a pallet, dropped in our garage on a sunny winter day.
Because my wife and I were isolating completely, our first challenge was to get this 350 pound monster into my studio. The solution was to disassemble it and carry the pieces through the yard in our Garden Way cart.
Once reassembled, the new press was ready to go. Our “parlor” is now one of four rooms that comprise my “studio”
The timing could not have been better. Throughout the pandemic, one of my greatest pleasures has been the slow process of making photogravure images. There is a ritual to all this and it requires great concentration. I find it very peaceful.
To learn about how photogravure prints are actually made, read the next sections of this blog.