March 06, 2005
ink on paper
The letterpress side
of the studio.

I haven't posted in a long time, which at this point is actually a good thing, because it means I have been very, very, very busy. A lot, of course, has happened while I have been busy not posting, but you probably know that already.

I started a new job in February, which means my weekends are now more concentrated than they once were, but also means that I actually have weekends instead of days where all my friends are off work but I am trying to finish some freelance thing or another before Monday. My weekends, so far, have been spent mostly here at the studio, alternating between fighting the endless war against dust and actually printing things. As I type this, somebody is sanding marble outside. I didn't even know you could sand marble. But there you go.

The majority of my letterpress work as of late has been in the form of business and calling cards for friends and associates. I've been enjoying these immensely, mostly because the design of each has been a wonderful collaboration, and the end results have been worth the effort (and cost!).

The Vandercook,
ready to print.
A few weeks ago I did a lovely set of business cards as a trade with my friend Nicky, who is a massage therapist, and have been reaping the benefits of Thai massage ever since. My friend Heather has offered me a stay in her flat in Paris in exchange for the ones I did for her. The latest set was for my dear friend ms. meriko, who was also a pleasure to work with; this time, I had my camera with me and decided to take some pictures of the process.

Every project I do is custom designed for the person who requests it. First we figure out together what will appear on the card and exchange some general ideas about how it will look and what it will convey. Then I get to work finding the paper stock, typefaces and any illustrations we'll use. In this case, meriko already had a beautiful pen and ink illustration of a pomegranate drawn for her by the immensely talented Tammy Stellanova. I converted the bitmap of the scanned drawing to an eps and cleaned it up in Illustrator, so it would scale properly to any size. We emailed PDFs back and forth a few times and eventually settled on a design that worked. Once meriko approved of the final design, I made separate files for each color and emailed off the files to the platemaker. I actually do have a few fonts of lead type, but in this case it was better to use photopolymer plates, especially since everything had to be proofed long-distance (meriko lives in San Francisco).

Ink mixing table

With polymer plates, the platemaker creates a photonegative and uses it to expose a sheet of light-sensitive plastic polymer, which leaves the image as raised plastic on a thin steel backing. I then attach it to a magnetized ceramic base, which I put on the bed of my Vandercook 4 press and lock it into place using little mechanical wonders called quoins (or if I'm using a platen press like my Chandler & Price Pilot, I lock it into what's called a chase). The joy of the polymer plates is if something comes out crooked or just a little bit out of place, I can easily pry the thing off and snap it back on in the correct position.

Then comes the ink. As printing ink comes in one pound cans, it's pretty much impossible for me to buy ink in every possible color I want, so I mix them myself. If you're a designer, you probably have a Pantone book and are accustomed to picking colors out of it. I do this too, but then I have to look at the little formulas next to the colors, which tell me how to mix that color out of the standard colors I have. I take an ink spatula and take a little dab out of one can, and a little dab out of another, and a big dab out of another, and then I smash them around on a glass plate until they look about right. There are all kinds of "rules" about mixing ink by weighing each color out on a scale or whatever, but I just eyeball it and then test it by rolling some ink on a piece of wood type and stamping it onto a piece of paper to see how it looks.

Operating the press

Once I've got the ink color how I want it, it's time for makeready, which means, well, everything you have to do to make the press ready to print. I take the spatula and smudge some ink onto the powered metal rollers, and add it until it makes the proper velvety swishswish sound as the rollers turn. The metal rollers automatically spread the ink evenly across the rubber rollers below them. The rubber rollers in turn spread ink across the top of the polymer plate as I operate the press, and, on my Vandercook at least, the paper is attached around a cylinder which rolls over the polymer plate, pressing the ink into the paper.

Sheet on press,
ready for a second color.

Then I adjust the packing, which is the material (in this case, paper) that goes under the actual piece of paper being printed upon, so that there is just the right amount of impression when it rolls over the polymer plate. Real letterpress printers, that is, the old men like the ones who operated this press at the Danish newspaper in its previous life, say the impression is perfect when the letters are nice and crisp and you can't see that it's been pressed into the paper at all. All those men are turning in their graves as I add packing to the cylinder in order to get a deeper impression.

After I've finished with makeready, it's time to start printing. I set meriko's cards up to print six at a time. I learned this the hard way after realizing just how much my arm hurt after cranking the press back and forth 250 times the first time I decided to make calling cards for someone.

The finished sheet.
I put an 8.5x11" sheet of paper into the grippers on the cylinder, run it through once, then turn it around to print the same thing on the other half of the page. This is called a work-and-turn for, I think, obvious reasons. Twice through the press and I have twelve cards, complete with registration and crop marks. Much happier. Once I have enough sheets with the first color, I clean off the press with a horribly toxic solvent (which I think the old pressmen would approve of) and re-ink with the next color and do it all again.

When I've finished all the sheets with the second color, I'm done printing and clean off the rollers one more time with the horribly toxic solvent and wipe everything down with an oily rag to keep it all from rusting. I let the ink dry overnight, and then I stack all the printed sheets up, and hopefully I've lined everything up right, because I'm about to use my scary stack paper cutter to chop everything into proper 2 inch by 3 1/2 inch rectangles. In the end, I've got a few hundred calling cards for ms. meriko, and I keep a few for myself and wrap the rest in brown paper and bubble wrap and overnight mail them at the post office.

Then I go ask Nicky for a massage, because all that cranking the cylinder back and forth does a number on my arm after a while.

Posted by kia at March 06, 2005 04:49 PM
Comments

I have one of these beautiful cards sitting here in front of me - ms. meriko and I work together. Thank you for posting this, as it was fascinating! I took one lithography class in art school, and though I loved the actual printing part, making the plate made me crazy (and that was on a metal plate, not even a stone!). I'd love to expore more printmaking in the future, though.

Posted by: donab on March 7, 2005 10:30 AM

Heya Kia:

Nice to see you up and running again. I too, took a long leave as work and life's deadlines began munching away at my blog-writing lunch breaks. But alas, I have returned.

That's *killer* that you get the chance to actually do pro printmaking. Traditional printmaking, illustration and design processes are slowly becoming overrun by the mice-clicking masses—look at the world of animation, for instance—so I totally appreciate work done the "Old School" way…!

Woo, those pictures remind me of printmaking class in college, but better yet, printmaking in junior high, when we had to make business cards by locking down type and leading with wooden blocks in a big huge clunky metal frame thing (you probably know what it's really called). I think I still have one or two of those old cards somewhere, sloppy and messy as hell. I'm sure they would make a great "impression" on those old Danish printers, eh? (Ba-dump, thank you, thank you.)

In the meantime, perhaps you may take a moment to update your infinitely more interesting links - "Paramecium Parachute" has become "Tra La La." Take care and drop by if you wish.

Great to see ya,
G


Posted by: GN on March 8, 2005 01:15 PM

Love the post. Love the cards. Love the pics. Love seeing the press in action! Love the studio!

Posted by: beca on March 15, 2005 10:29 AM

Do you always print with deep impressions, or are you interested in doing some work the Danish-old-man way? I too need to make some business cards, and I want to get them letterpressed off photopolymer plates (by the by, I'm probably going to take a platemaking class this summer), and the whole concept is to use modern fonts with letterpress stock. The typefaces I'm using (Caecilia and TheSans) have reasonably sturdy forms, but as postmodern humanist slab / sans serifs, they don't stand up to ink squash so great.

Meriko's cards look fabulous!

Posted by: forrest on April 27, 2005 07:15 PM

I like the deep impression, because I just never saw the real point to spending all the time and energy printing photopolymer letterpress plates to make them look like offset printing in the end, ink laying on top of the paper. If I want it to look like offset, I'll pay somebody else to print it that way.

The old letterpress guys spin in their graves once again, but hell, they pretty much all sold off their lead type and presses for scrap when it became obsolete anyway. This is why every swap meet on earth has somebody selling empty type cases.

One caveat to the deep impression thing is that it pains me when people squash the crap out of the lead type. That makes me sad. Lead is soft. A little impression is nice, but when it's showing on the back of the paper, you've just destroyed type that cannot be replaced. But photopolymer? Not so precious. Smash away.

Also it's not true that the depth of the impression does something bad to the character of the typeface. You can print deep impression without "ink squash" - that's an artifact of over-inking your rollers, which is probably the #1 beginning letterpress mistake, closely followed by not adjusting the rollers properly and getting ink where it's not supposed to go. Another culprit is sloppy photopolymer plate making.

You can compensate for letterpress ink spread by adding a 0.03-0.07pt white stroke to your text before you output to film. This is what I did for mko's cards - the typeface I used (Galahad) is pretty delicate, so I wanted to make sure it maintained that character on press. Both Caecilia and TheSans should stand up quite excellently to letterpress, no matter what the impression depth, if printed properly.

Posted by: Kia on April 30, 2005 09:25 AM
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words and images are © copyright 2002-2005 kristen johansen or their respective authors. please do not reproduce without permission. send email to kia at bossanova dot com.