Prints: New. Improved.

kurt_seidle_xed_7Some prints get wrecked in the printing process. It makes sense that hand-printed works are more susceptible to flaws than mechanically printed ones, but knowing that still doesn’t make it any easier to take. Inconsistencies – whether it’s ink flow, a knick in the stencil, a fingerprint or smudge – can ruin a perfectly good print. It happens. It’s just part of the process. I know this, yet I still take the flaws pretty hard.

But I got tired of feeling this way and sought to do something about it. Rather than looking at flaws as a door closing, I decided to look at them as a window opening. By doing so, there’s an opportunity to add new ideas or, in this case, make corrections. I embraced the flaws and just canceled them out. Literally.

My first step was to unearth slightly less-than-perfect prints from the depths of purgatory (i.e. the neither-here-nor-there void of the flat file) and assess the damage. Next up was fixing them. That’s achieved here by masking the flaws with a big, blunt mark. Simple as that. Rather than just erasing the flaws, I chose to acknowledge and celebrate them.

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In some cases, crossing out the mistakes added to the composition. In others, it was just a means to an end. While making perfect compositions was certainly not the goal, there are some beautiful moments to behold.

There’s beauty in everything. Finding it is just a matter of perspective. Clearly my interest in signage, typography, and found objects influenced the direction, but, in retrospect, there are other references that come to mind, like the butterfly joint in a George Nakashima table or even the knots in a piece of plywood.

These days, it’s about accepting what comes your way. Taking each day as it arrives – with all the highs and lows – and making the best of it. That, in a sense, is what the Correction Series is all about.

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Pictured: “Untitled (Correction)” 2020, “Untitled (Correction)” 2020, “Untitled (Correction)” 2020, “Untitled (Correction)” 2020. 

Prints: Untitled, 2019

kurt_seidle_untitled_2019This one turned out to be a total pain to print, but, in the end, was well worth the effort. Bright and vibrant in five colors on white. I was hoping for an edition of five or six, but due to my exacting – and slightly OCD – standards, I settled for variations of three.

Prints: Autumn 2018

Now that Autumn 2018 has officially come to a close and the doldrums of winter have unceremoniously set in, let’s make the most of the downtime and brighten things up with a recap of the print action from last season.

I’ve got my coffee ready. I’ll wait for you to brew yours. (…) Okay, let’s go.

 

Untitled, 2018

Untitled, 2018

Untitled, 2018 / Untitled, 2018

Untitled, 2018

Untitled (Sunset), 2018

 

 

Prints: Dot/Dash – 2017 Year in Review

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2017 was the year I jettisoned formal, finished compositions – for one year. In place of a clearly articulated vision prior to printing, I tried loosening things up by composing on the fly, working in the moment and just rolling with it. I went with a few graphic patterns that piqued my interest – mainly dots and stripes – and played with them in random compositions as I printed. Some small editions came out the process, but the prints are all mostly unique. Color choices were determined similarly. I had some hues in mind to start but mainly just built up color as I went along.

It was all very different from my usual working method of super-tight, controlled situations where everything is designed and prepared in advance of production. In that scenario, production is merely a process devoid of all decision making – a means to an end and satisfying in a different kind of way. I suppose I was inspired by Sol LeWitt’s seminal Sentences on Conceptual Art of 1969, numbers six and seven in particular:

“6. If the artist changes his mind midway through the execution of the piece he compromises the result and repeats past results.”

“7. The artist’s will is secondary to the process he initiates from idea to completion. His willfulness may only be ego.”

Perhaps a little too much. Because I next wanted to bust things open and let it rip. I worried that things were getting a bit too dry, too expected. Working in the moment and forcing decisions would open things up, let fresh ideas in and set my work on a different course, I thought.

That happened. Sort of. Because the results are oddly not too dissimilar from my usual work.  

The limited design elements really helped temper the atmosphere and hold it all together. Things could easily have gotten out of hand with a messy swirl of color and blobs of form. You know, like Lord of the Flies in two dimensions. Or worse, dried macaroni and construction paper collages. But here I got the best of both worlds: crisp compositions that emphasize simplicity of form and color combinations that I would not have otherwise considered. It was just the right balance of experimentation and restraint.

Take a look at a few of my favorites: