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| artwork by Mariana Timponi--gelatin print with white marker drawing |
It was the discovery of gelatin prints at a friend's New Year's party a few years ago that got me doing art for myself again after a long hiatus. Made with a plate of gelatin--either a special mix, or a synthetic store-bought plate, this monoprinting technique yields unique results, requires no artistic talent, and I've found the process to be quite soothing and delightfully addictive.
Ink is rolled onto a plastic surface (I use a clip board), smoothed out, and then rolled onto the gelatin. (Acrylic paint works, but I prefer water-based block printing ink.) Then, any kind of object is placed on top, to leave an impression. This can be scraps of paper, but I prefer something with texture. Leaves and other natural objects are my favorite, and I've also had great results with lace, plastic wrap, and protective netting from produce. I introduced this technique to a friend here in São José, who uses some of her origami and kirigami mandala designs.
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| artwork by Mariana Timponi--origami & gelatin print |
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| artwork by Mariana Timponi--gelatin print made with kirigami |
With the objects on the inked gelatin, a piece of paper is placed on top. (It's best to use card stock or heavy drawing paper, perhaps something with just a bit of a tooth.) The next step is to apply pressure, which is fine to do just with hands, sliding them all over every part of the paper, giving it a nice "back rub" in the words of my artist friend who introduced me to this process.
The magic happens when the paper is removed and the design is revealed. When the items are left on the gelatin, they leave a negative shape on the paper, which is often surprising. When they are removed before printmaking, they leave their texture in the inked gelatin, which transfers beautifully to the paper. I usually leave the objects on for the first print, and then remove them, using the same plate to do a second, or "ghost print." Those are my favorites--they reveal every vein of a leaf, or make the designs of lace pop out in unexpected ways, and the background color is more translucent.
I usually save the first two prints, then roll more color onto the plate, using that color to make other pairs, and then eventually switch colors and layer up on my old prints as many times as I want, until I'm satisfied with the look. Sometimes I get a mess of interesting textures, but not much of a finished piece. Those are the pages that I save for collage or drawing later.
Some people draw directly onto the inked gelatin plate, knowing the image will be reversed in the print. Other people draw, paint, or journal on the dried versions later. Some people carefully plan a composition, but what I like best are the unpredictable results of spontaneous play. It's quite a liberating experience when even the person who least sees themself as an artist, who "can't draw to save their life," discovers that they can make an interesting image with detail and nuance, and it is the only one of its kind in existence!
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| artwork by Mariana Timponi |
Cleanup is easy--everything comes off with water. The gelatin can be saved for multiple uses.
I brought this technique to an advanced English class of teens in their last semester, who were pretty much climbing the walls to be done with school. In this lesson they had to read a text about the pinhole camera, one of the revolutionary inventions of early photography. After working through the text, which explained the process, the final activity was to describe another photographic process, which the book provided information about.
When I first looked at the lesson, my initial thought was to bring the maker movement into it by challenging them to make a pinhole camera. But, remembering the time and trial and error involved from my own experience making one in high school, not to mention the need to buy photographic paper, I decided against it. That's when I decided to bring what had been a personal hobby into the classroom, reminding myself, and the students, that early photographic images were produced on gelatin, too!
After working through the essential parts of the reading lesson, I had them close their books and explained that I was going to show them a process that they would have to later describe to their partner. Immediately, I had their full attention, as curiosity drew them near. I inked up a few plates quickly, demonstrating how to roll it on with the brayer, teaching vocabulary as I went along. I instructed the first volunteers to make a composition using any of the materials I provided, and I walked them through making a first print and a ghost print. They were particularly amazed at the ghost prints.
As soon as everyone had seen enough of the process, I told pairs who were waiting their turn, or who had already made theirs, to explain the process to each other. Having experienced it firsthand made it more meaningful than working with only the example in the book. Walking around the room, I heard pairs helping each other remember the process, carefully explaining each step.
I allowed anyone who desired to make their own unique mark with the ink, and there were students working right up until the end of class. Those who weren't interested enough to continue their engagement with this activity were instructed to do the book's exercise, explaining the photographic process outlined there. After having done it once with a process they learned from doing hands-on, independently following the instructions in the book to describe another process seemed to go more smoothly. Somehow I think participating in an artistic process enabled them to better visualize the process they read about, even, and especially, if art wasn't their thing.
I will definitely bring this process to other classes. Although I used it in an advanced level, I would use it in lower level classes as well, teaching them words to describe a process (first, after that, next, etc.). It might also be a good way to practice using imperatives ("Roll the ink on the gelatin. Don't forget to cover every part."), or even reported speech ("The teacher said to roll the ink on the gelatin.") And any variety of language could be used to describe the final results ("It looks scary; It looks like a lion,")--the possibilities are endless!
An alternative process I may suggest if materials are hard to come by is marbling. Some marbling techniques require only water and nail polish, or shaving cream and food coloring.
I encourage you to try this process for yourself, or try another new experience, and notice what kind of language--and wild new ideas--it produces.
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| artwork by Mariana Timponi |
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