Printing from Wood Blocks
sibility of this art, but for one who wanted to
practise it little information was accessible.
However, I experimented with the Japanese
process, choosing as subjects the shore of Ipswich
River with the boats, old houses, bridge and wil-
lows, printing many colour variations of each
motif. A series of ten colour prints called Along
Ipswich River, intended to be bound in book
form, was produced at that time. The Dory
was cut with a partial outline, whilst Old
Houses on Ipswich River has a complete out-
line, or “key-block.” The entire set was en-
graved upon pine which is easier to cut in broad
lines, and gives soft tones. I next tried larger
sizes, some with a key-block where every space is
outlined, some without a key-block, giving the
effect of a wash drawing. In 1895 I exhibited
at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts the ten sub-
jects with many variations; the larger prints; a
book with printed silk covers and six illustra-
tions; a page of text cut in wood; a portfolio
cover and a poster—two hundred numbers in
all. Professor Fenollosa wrote the introduction
to the catalogue, published by the museum.
From that day to this I have made wood-block
colour prints, largely as a recreation, choosing my
subjects from the familiar New England shore
landscape. A description of the making of
one print will answer for all: First, a key-block
is cut in maple, then several copies are printed
on dry Japanese paper. These are pasted, face
down, upon four other blocks, thus ensuring
accurate registry. After marking each space in-
tended to carry colour, the rest is cut away.
The registry is accomplished, as it always is,
by two marks, one at the corner, the other at the
side of each block. For a print without a key-
block I find tracing and transfer paper to be best,
making sure to include the registry marks on
each one. For printing I use a fairly thick porous
Japanese paper, wetting every third sheet and
putting them under a weight the day before.
The blocks are charged with bristle brushes of
various sizes. The Japanese use a thick brush,
about 2j^" X ij^" at the end. This absorbs too
much colour, unless one is attempting very large
prints. Colour is brushed on freely, paying no
attention to the hollow places—the paper will
not sink into them if you are careful. Ordinary
tube water-colours may be used, but the printer
with whom I worked in Japan had powdered
colours, mixed in water, a bottle of each. He
relied on the sizing of the paper to fix his tones,
but I have preferred to use thin paste or gum,
and glycerine, with powdered colours.
The dampened paper is laid upon the block
and rubbed with a circular pad, which causes it
to take up the wet colour. The best is, of course,
the Japanese “baren” made of a bamboo leaf
stretched over a hollow pasteboard disk. The
difficulty of obtaining one of these, to say noth-
ing of making one, has led to a search for a good
substitute. I have found a finely corrugated
glass, cut round, about 3^ inches in diameter,
to work very well. The paper must be kept of
uniform moisture until the entire series is printed.
This is done by putting the prints between sheets
of damp blotting paper. Ten prints is the largest
number that can be produced comfortably at
one sitting—six will be quite sufficient.
The special advantages of this art-craft are,
first of all, colour quality, then colour variation.
In painting, the water-colour settles into the
paper, but in a wood-block print it lies upon the
tops of the fibres allowing the luminous tone of
the paper to shine through. In this it is like the
colour of the best pottery, say Chinese of the
Sung dynasty, where the tones lie lightly over a
luminous under colour. The old fresco paint-
ings have a similar elusive glowing effect.
Among Japanese colour printers, Harunobu and
Kiyonaga are the supreme masters of this quality.
Colour variation I have already touched upon.
Mr. Fenollosa remarked that this process “utilizes
the lost chances.” A painting shows forth a single
colour-idea that the artist brings out of his mind.
There may be many others floating there, but
they cannot all be made visible without infinite
labour. With the wood blocks once cut he may
seize them all—there is no limit. This is why
some wood-block printers will not destroy their
blocks. No two prints need ever be exactly alike.
The slight variations give a special personal char-
acter to each print.
This process affords a very simple method
of producing gradations. Merely dip the brush
in water or another colour, sweep it across the
block in broad swift strokes, and the gradation
or blending is accomplished.
So much for wood-block printing in the Japan-
ese way! But I have found that printer’’s inks on
the printing press can be made to yield similar
qualities, especially if the blocks are cut in lino-
leum—but that is another story.
XVI
sibility of this art, but for one who wanted to
practise it little information was accessible.
However, I experimented with the Japanese
process, choosing as subjects the shore of Ipswich
River with the boats, old houses, bridge and wil-
lows, printing many colour variations of each
motif. A series of ten colour prints called Along
Ipswich River, intended to be bound in book
form, was produced at that time. The Dory
was cut with a partial outline, whilst Old
Houses on Ipswich River has a complete out-
line, or “key-block.” The entire set was en-
graved upon pine which is easier to cut in broad
lines, and gives soft tones. I next tried larger
sizes, some with a key-block where every space is
outlined, some without a key-block, giving the
effect of a wash drawing. In 1895 I exhibited
at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts the ten sub-
jects with many variations; the larger prints; a
book with printed silk covers and six illustra-
tions; a page of text cut in wood; a portfolio
cover and a poster—two hundred numbers in
all. Professor Fenollosa wrote the introduction
to the catalogue, published by the museum.
From that day to this I have made wood-block
colour prints, largely as a recreation, choosing my
subjects from the familiar New England shore
landscape. A description of the making of
one print will answer for all: First, a key-block
is cut in maple, then several copies are printed
on dry Japanese paper. These are pasted, face
down, upon four other blocks, thus ensuring
accurate registry. After marking each space in-
tended to carry colour, the rest is cut away.
The registry is accomplished, as it always is,
by two marks, one at the corner, the other at the
side of each block. For a print without a key-
block I find tracing and transfer paper to be best,
making sure to include the registry marks on
each one. For printing I use a fairly thick porous
Japanese paper, wetting every third sheet and
putting them under a weight the day before.
The blocks are charged with bristle brushes of
various sizes. The Japanese use a thick brush,
about 2j^" X ij^" at the end. This absorbs too
much colour, unless one is attempting very large
prints. Colour is brushed on freely, paying no
attention to the hollow places—the paper will
not sink into them if you are careful. Ordinary
tube water-colours may be used, but the printer
with whom I worked in Japan had powdered
colours, mixed in water, a bottle of each. He
relied on the sizing of the paper to fix his tones,
but I have preferred to use thin paste or gum,
and glycerine, with powdered colours.
The dampened paper is laid upon the block
and rubbed with a circular pad, which causes it
to take up the wet colour. The best is, of course,
the Japanese “baren” made of a bamboo leaf
stretched over a hollow pasteboard disk. The
difficulty of obtaining one of these, to say noth-
ing of making one, has led to a search for a good
substitute. I have found a finely corrugated
glass, cut round, about 3^ inches in diameter,
to work very well. The paper must be kept of
uniform moisture until the entire series is printed.
This is done by putting the prints between sheets
of damp blotting paper. Ten prints is the largest
number that can be produced comfortably at
one sitting—six will be quite sufficient.
The special advantages of this art-craft are,
first of all, colour quality, then colour variation.
In painting, the water-colour settles into the
paper, but in a wood-block print it lies upon the
tops of the fibres allowing the luminous tone of
the paper to shine through. In this it is like the
colour of the best pottery, say Chinese of the
Sung dynasty, where the tones lie lightly over a
luminous under colour. The old fresco paint-
ings have a similar elusive glowing effect.
Among Japanese colour printers, Harunobu and
Kiyonaga are the supreme masters of this quality.
Colour variation I have already touched upon.
Mr. Fenollosa remarked that this process “utilizes
the lost chances.” A painting shows forth a single
colour-idea that the artist brings out of his mind.
There may be many others floating there, but
they cannot all be made visible without infinite
labour. With the wood blocks once cut he may
seize them all—there is no limit. This is why
some wood-block printers will not destroy their
blocks. No two prints need ever be exactly alike.
The slight variations give a special personal char-
acter to each print.
This process affords a very simple method
of producing gradations. Merely dip the brush
in water or another colour, sweep it across the
block in broad swift strokes, and the gradation
or blending is accomplished.
So much for wood-block printing in the Japan-
ese way! But I have found that printer’’s inks on
the printing press can be made to yield similar
qualities, especially if the blocks are cut in lino-
leum—but that is another story.
XVI