Authenticity in Contemporary Print: Destabilization and the Aura
Over the course of my studio practice, the focus on agency developed from the maker to the reader while focus on authenticity shifts from the image to the publication. My role as a designer has shifted over time to involve the reader in the construction of narratives. This follows the intention of positioning myself as a facilitator of engagement between readers. At this point, I must consider what level of guidelines for use are necessary in a publication designed to equalize the reader and author. How can this be achieved while still prompting active reading?
Working in the studio serves as a reminder of the physical and technical limitations to analog graphic design, and raised critical questions regarding the processes involved in printmaking. Traditionally, etching favors detailed drawings that use lines to create depth while stylistically, prints with black ink is highly reminiscent of charcoal drawings. However, it has great potential as a contemporary medium in graphic communication design as it lends itself to reproduction. A print’s clarity has a direct correlation to the physical energy exerted in the studio, and once an image is transferred to paper it becomes stagnant. How can printmaking, particularly etching, be used in a more fluid and modular way? My interest in exploring the tension between analog and digital image making processes led me to interrogate destabilizing the image as a means of extending the capabilities of print. Digitizing these etchings allows them to exist in a suspended state in which the original is flattened, but has a more extensive reach.
I translate etchings to digital reproductions with the intention of increasing their output. This is an attempt to insert fluidity in printmaking by liberating the image from the page. Through my practice of translating, an image’s capacity to reproduce supersedes it quality and clarity as the focus is solely on increasing the volume of output derived from Iteration Zero. Etching passes through the filter of technology with tools such as scanning and photoshop editing. I translated the etchings with the intention of isolating and exaggerating cross hatching and scratch marks, as seen in Figure 1. The first set of iterations is focused on composition within a set of etchings, while the second set focuses on exploring scale within a single etching. The second series of iterations is intentional in sequentially moving through parts of a whole picture. Here, scale then becomes critical in developing new compositions, as digital distortion results in pixelation and abstract forms. Here I utilize registration marks as a design element signaling progression between iterations. The sequence of degradation is visible in Figure 2. Applying Steyerl’s notion of the poor image by assigning this label to Iteration Zero. In Defence of the Poor Image supports my iterations that were based on the copy of an image in the process of digital degradation. Steyerl states that “The poor image has been uploaded, downloaded, shared, reformatted, and reedited. It transforms quality into accessibility… the poor image tends toward abstraction,” a direction that is evident in later iterations that take on a series of amorphous forms (Steyerl, 32). The process of digitizing prints is an extension of their capabilities as a medium through creating flexibility of scale and composition. The clarity is determined by the technology on which an image is copied, but all are legitimate extensions of the original. This contrasts my general position regarding an image’s authenticity being tied to its initial materiality.
Walter Benjamin’s The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction which was first published in 1936, supports my application of translation as a means of production. In other words, “its being reproducible by technological means frees the work of art” (Benjamin, 11). Although here he is referring to the Industrial Revolution, artificial intelligence is a modern extension of such that causes humans to question their purpose in the workforce in relation to technological advancements. This standard mechanization allows for a streamlining of processes and products that while efficient, severely limits the role of the individual. According to Benjamin, what qualifies an image as a work of art is its “uniqueness and duration” (Benjamin, 10). Variations between copies of an image as well as its material components that determine its current and future durability.
Positions through Iterating begins to explore the notion of aura as a factor of authentic material. Changes in medium inherently impact its sense perception and authenticity. Benjamin pinpoints the aura as a result of this translation. The mere action of translation of the image from analog to digital is then a compression of its aura. Benjamin identifies that “changes in the medium of perception… may be understood as a fading of aura,” (Benjamin, 9). The aura is the unquantifiable essence of a thing, which I identify as a byproduct of the physical labor of printing. I attribute the aura to the original, while In Defence of the Poor Image, defines this as an ability to reproduce. Steyerl claims that “this aura is no longer based on the permanence of the “original,” but on the transience of the copy,” (Steyerl, 42). The concept of the original exists in the context of a world where people have personal technology with photographic capabilities, meaning that the frequency of capturing an original is higher than ever.
The aura is intertwined with sense perception and the neurological systems that activate the body. The act of making, and subsequently viewing media, is inherent to humans as a species.
The Medium is the Massage supports the impact of sense perception as authenticity in print. McLuhan outlines the physiological relationship that occurs in reading, stating that “all media are extensions of some human faculty. The wheel is an extension of the foot… the book is an extension of the eye… clothing, an extension of the skin… electric circuitry, an extension of the central nervous system,” (McLuhan, 26). These technologies developed as a direct result of human innovation, yet their modern day counterparts are playing a role in limiting the participation of their descendants. Are we Human? Notes on an Archaeology of Design supports McLuhan’s definition of sense perception as a physiological response and places is in the context of modernism. Furthermore, it serves as a counterpoint to my practice that emphasizes humanness as an indicator of authenticity. In the current context, machines are characterized as frictionless, with the general disregard for tactile buttons in favor of responsive touch screens. Smooth surfaces act as a shock absorber of the unstable conditions in which they exists. This applies to resolution as well, since “good design” prioritizes clarity and legibility as symbols for objectivity.
Images, specifically photography are positioned in society as a tool to gather accurate data, as seen in forensics, and medicine, which enforces a detachment from the artist. This causes a very real sense of sterilization. Good Design is an Anesthetic claims that this “rejection of ornament is a physiological reaction,” (Colomina and Wigley, 98). In the context of my practice, this notion of ornament is the visual noise of human markings. Sight and touch are inherently tied to an experiential image and “it is as if nerves themselves were the true clients of modern design” (Colomina and Wigley, 100). This anatomical association implies that the audience for such design is in fact human. How would these same designs be experienced when fed back into machines, such as in artificial intelligence? I focus on texture specifically. This notion of the smooth image is applied through laser and inkjet printing as well as digital programs for making images. A standardization of computer default settings removes a sense of agency for the designer, and leads their body of work to fit into a set aesthetic and form, rather than emphasizing individuality and personal style. Instead, automated designs takes on the aesthetic of machines: devoid of color, smooth, shiny, metallic. Aesthetic properties such as smoothness and glossy surfaces convey a sense of authority by presented as clean and factual information that is not tied to the designer’s individual perspective.
Re-Printed Matter led me to embrace the impact of the visual language of printing as a signifier for an authentic article. registration marks, thumbnail images, printer glitches and dust, page numbers, titles and captions. Layering these processes allows for the evidence of printing processes to become a visual language. Formal properties of Martens’ monograph include experimental typographic layouts feature overlayed images and text in varying degrees of saturation (See Figure 4). Martens challenges the expectation of wide margins as a quality of artful books by extending images and text to, or sometimes past, the edge of the page, thus allowing the publication’s perimeter to become its own texture. Utilizing the sides of pages to create a dialogue with one another to compose a new design element. Physical properties include full bleed spreads, sans serif typography, particularly Karel Martens’ use of CMYK color printing processes in images and text.
The composition of Re-Printed Matter served as a key resource in developing my position as a designer interested in printmaking processes. Working within the parameters of linocut, I began rendering elements including arrows and a geometric pattern in an attempt to decontextualize elements from Martens’ monograph. While a linocut as a subtractive medium (a carved image) it does not guarantee an exact replica, as imperfections may occur due to the physical paper and ink. These texture in the linocuts are a result of hand carving motions that follow the design. Following the trajectory of digitizing my image based outcomes, I created a mixed media specimen sheet for the series of linocuts alongside their digitized counterparts including a wider collection of color variations in thumbnail size, along with text. I created an A3 sheet with the goal of better showcasing the materiality and physical labor involved in traditional printing processes. Another iteration of the specimen sheet is on traditional cotton printmaking paper and feature only linocut prints. Including samples of linocuts contrasts their digitized iterations in order to demonstrate the medium’s original scale and texture. Positions presented in Re-Printed Matter support the notion of an image as defined in Methods of altering prints include repurposing a page layout as a thumbnail image mimics the effect of zooming in on a computer. Ultimately, this became a specimen sheet of sorts displaying a collection of iterations of the print. Throughout the transition of prints to publications, I explore varying means of binding as an external representation of the publication’s contents. Materials include zip ties, Japanese binding, as well as adhesives as ways to construct a publication of my outcomes.
In addition to image based designs, I rendered typography in linocut in order to explore text as a method of handwriting. I classify this as a subsection of craft and a counterpoint to typography. The latter of which is a branch of graphic design attributed to men beginning with Gutenberg in bringing the technology to Europe. As seen in Figure 6, this results in a hybridization of handwriting and Futura. The purpose of such experimentation is to reinforce the imperfect, marks of human labor as a display of authenticity. Karen Reimer’s Copies features rendered text in the form of documents, pages of books, and lists through embroidery. Reimer chooses to depict rather mundane written or printed notes but when paired with the medium of embroidery translates the text into an image, a concept I apply in my studio practices with a methodology of crafting an image from building blocks. Like many forms of craft, embroidery requires of the creator a significant effort but is often not regarded as art due to historical ties to women as the bearer of this labor. This could be due to the materiality of thread and fabric, which as I substitute these for ink and paper respectively, are a blank slate on which the creator has full authority. The medium of embroidery is in itself an early iteration of the pixelated grid in which all computerized designs are based upon.
Natural Enemies of Books: A Messy History of Women in Printing and Typography serves as a reference point in establishing the book as a form of craft. The do-it-yourself aspect of craft is evident in printmaking and self-publishing as supported in The Book as a Pot-Luck Offering: Edna Beilenson, Jane Grabhorn & Books of the Distaff Side. Kathleen Walkup investigates the formal properties of Bookmaking on the Distaff Side, a display of women in printing that was published in 1937. This first of its kind publication “offers no contents page, index or list of contributors. There is a title page with no authors, editors or even publisher listed beyond the title itself, in swash italic, and the date,” (Walkup, 27). Craft generally embraces found materials, and in the case of The Committee, the ad-hoc approach to the publication’s construction is largely due to the women’s technical limitations due to nineteenth century socioeconomics. Although, other considerations could be environmental. Language used to describe the interaction of women with books is quite Freudian. A section of the 1937 publication written by Anne Lyon Haight states, “It would appear that book collecting is a truly feminine pastime, containing many elements which appeal to their sex; romance, intellectual curiosity, love of the beautiful and the quest of something difficult to obtain. But feminine collectors should beware of pitfalls, for sometimes this mania arouses the baser instincts such as envy, extravagance, and self-indulgence,” (Haight, 182). Beginning with physical materials, the signatures vary in size and are comprised of a collection of paper materials. My iterations follow The Committee’s narrative of self-publishing on a small scale as a means of demonstrating authenticity. I draw on the use of non-uniform typography with the use of handwriting, though methodology and tools differ. While craft inherently values human labor, advancements in technology minimize craft by eliminating human imperfections that contribute to variation, and ultimately a sense of authenticity.
The Post-Craft Turn fits into Benjamin’s social conditions of making and establishes publishing as a communal practice. Geography is a social condition of making and production. Craft, for example, historically takes place within in the home and was dependent on the participation of women. In digital media, the social conditions rely on private creation for public consumption. Meanwhile, the opposite is true of print, where the social conditions revolve around public creation for private consumption. In this reference, Margetts triangulates my practice in relation to The Committee and Reimer as having overlapping aspects in our positionality as women designers in a patriarchal society. Arts and crafts, generally speaking, has a connotation of a women as the crafter. Many crafts take painstaking hours of handmade tasks such as sewing and embroidering that must occur for the final polished result but are often undervalued. Historically women who performed these crafts were invisible in the resulting product, particularly tasks like embroidery which could be done in the home. Craft has feminine associations within the historical and social context of witchcraft as a practice of conjuring. The aforementioned concept of the aura fits into this as it is somewhat inexplicable.
As I participate in image making as a craft, take inspiration from the format of Post-Craft, particularly in the utilization of creative typographic layouts. I establish craft as a counterpoint to “good design” in which the machines are the authority. Anyone with the time and tools can create their own publication without participating in supply chains or mass production, meaning that “post-craft thus resists authority” (Margetts, 49). Here, a sense of interaction is evident in the studio itself, since craft as a community holds value in the act of making. Practitioners and students alike resort to sharing supplies and equipment working in a communal space, as opposed to the modern graphic designer’s usual position in front of a screen. In other words, no matter the form, “craft is always essential to being human” (Margetts, 42).
During this process, the focus of my studio practice has progressed slightly as I have gone from focusing on infusing flexibility in images, to the publication as a whole and the context in which it exists. “Social conditions” determine where where access and interaction occur and who is involved in production and distribution (Benjamin, 9). Furthermore, they establish a social contracts to sway how people interact and how authentic these interactions are. The digital model of individual contribution limits personal accountability for misinformation or misconduct, as comments made online are not attached to a specific individual, but a curated representation or avatar of such. This twenty first century framework for interaction between readers is done at a distance through commenting, liking, and sharing information. However, authenticity is not of the highest value in a monetized attention economy. The internet can be isolating, since there is no need for a community to exist for the purpose of providing the text. But, what if designers were to increase the need for interdependence between readers for new interpretations of a set?
The social conditions creates space for exchanges, as seen in the next set of studio outcomes. Conditions of making specifically refer to the encounters surrounding the conception and reception of a piece of media. Positions through Dialogue begins to explore authority in printing processes and formal conventions of books as a medium by engaging in studio practices at the London Center for Book Arts. The space is a community of makers and highlights the authenticity of printed text and its surrounding interactions. Partaking in workshops and studio sessions encouraged me to consider the LCBA as a facilitator for practical and social exchanges. I identify the following exchanges within the studio atmosphere: designer to designer; designer and materials; designer and technology; materials and technology. This applies to raw materials as well as finished outcomes available for reference in the LCBA shop, and exchanges between designers themselves. Exchanges outside the studio include those between a reader and publication as well as between readers and occur as a result of publications developed there. social conditions establish conditions for ownership over content and form. I further explore these ideas in studio experiments conducted during Positions through Triangulating.
While linocut, monoprint and risograph all lend themselves to the reproduction of images, riso is arguably the most condensed of these mediums in the reduction of tactile information into a two dimensional form. Image clarity is dependent on the grain and thickness of paper, the sequence of colors, and alignment of the cartridges. The cartridges themselves must be inserted in the correct order of operations dependent on the content, allowing for an exchange between the printer and the operator. The ‘master’ is the template picked up by the ink cartridges and rolled onto the inserted paper. This process initiates a transfer of authority from the computer to the printer as a separate entity. At a certain point, the designer can no longer interfere with the exchange between the file and machine. Like all sorts of printmaking, risography has its limitations including drying time and, in this case, a limited color range as the digital lab was out of a color that could stand in for magenta and cyan had to be substituted for a darker shade. A blue and yellow duotone layering and halftone as means to construct an image in a way that is mechanical and requires human intervention for alignment. Linguistically, there is a strong association to power structures in printing. This is evident in terms such as the ‘master’ as well as the word authority, in which the ‘author’ is implicit. The typical position of the reader is submissive to the author, who presents a singular path to knowledge. But, this relationship can become more balanced if the reader was given agency in the order they consume the book.
This sense of novelty is what defines the new reader, who is presented with an abundance of content online, and contributes to a sense of authenticity. Digital creates an illusion of choice due to the sheer volume of content, but algorithms predetermine what additional content will be presented to the individual. A downfall of the constant updating of these interfaces is that a piece of media’s format and or context can be altered by a third party. Digital copies have variation due to a platform of website adjusting the physical presentation of text through line breaks, or scale as an attempt to fit the web layout or translation to PDF with the inclusion of third party advertisements. I identify the reader as having a baseline level of familiarity with digital interfaces, leading me to focus on short form reading by breaking the text down into bite-size building blocks, which today’s reader is accustomed to via social media’s model of reducing information to a headline. How then, can I develop a framework for novel experiences in print?
Traditional formatting and layouts in books are streamlined and allow for relatively little effort for the reader while stripping them of agency in their navigation of the text. If a layout is designed to allow for the reader to make decisions regarding chronology, the designer must set other parameters. For example, working with a single color print eliminates variation of information by hue, leaving value to determine a print’s legibility. Studio experimentation led me to explore the equalization of the reader to the author as the authority. What material the reader chooses to engage with and in what sequence? For example, the reader can go through one text in totality before going back and reading its companion text, or read them in conversation with one another. The order that each party consumes the material is proprietary to them in that instance, positioning them in conversation with the book by actively rearranging the existing material to glean new meanings. I believe that active participation in constructing these new narratives contributes to a sense of ownership of order and personal value over the publication. But what are the implications of multiple narrators in a single text? The reader’s subjectivity becomes a factor when these texts are presented in conversation with one another and the form of the publication invites the reader to draw connections between content that is based on prior knowledge and experiences.
Benjamin establishes fixity as a key condition of ownership. He states these conditions for instability as sociopolitical, attributing language, national borders, and manufacturing systems. A sense of instability contributes to the “fluctuating conditions of ownership,” of media (Benjamin, 5). Temporal fixity refers to a thing’s permanence, while spatial fixity refers to a thing’s material existence in a space. Volume is a subcategory of spatial fixity in that only a certain number of copies are printed in each edition. My practice explores how a complete lack of fixity creates an unstable text. Ownership can be identified as a condition of intimacy. This is determined by the spatial relationship of the reader to the text which establishes a sense of physical closeness and emotional attachment. Establishing a sense of familiarity with form and content can causes us to be more invested of the treatment of the physical thing. A piece of media’s degradation in print is due to the human’s treatment of the object, which contributes to a sense of intimacy, while in digital it is due to outmoded systems that contain the object.
Digital media allows for a collective but temporary ownership that exists only within the original infrastructure. When archival systems function, they preserve a text and allow for continued access in its original form. Digital is non-linear with its access point determined by an algorithm, and print is linear, with its access point determined by conventional format such as an index. To access text a second instance in print you have to navigate through a physical book, but the material is in the same order as the first access point. Once familiar with the book, subsequent access takes less and less effort, whereas in digital it requires the same amount due to a more fragile balance of factors that enable something to be viewed at that instance. Temporary access in print, however exists in public spaces such as community and school libraries. The result of a lack of direct ownership leads the book to become a collection of remnants of human activity.
Print materials allow the designer to maintain the structural integrity of their work. They can be utilized as a means of reclaiming information, in the way it is presented and in terms of where printed materials are distributed, whereas online there is a broader audience and it can be amended and commented on in ways that devalue the content. Designers can still encourage a tactile contribution of the reader to the physical text through annotation by way of crossing out words, jotting down questions or sketching, as well as by providing additional materials such as stickers or a writing utensil. Authority shifts once the publication enters into circulation, as the reader can control where these offshoots of the book exist outside the container of the book. Another way I attempt to reinsert agency is to create a publication that can be viewed from multiple directions. I aim to challenge traditional directionality of a book and make something that can be viewed at varying orientations in order to glean new meaning. This outcome views human intervention and engagement as an addition to the book, rather than looking at is as a precious object to be kept untouched, giving it space to become a record of human interaction.
Traditionally a book prioritizes clarity by following a standard chronology within the book and each page. Page numbers are a convention that I am questioning in my practice. If the text is presented non-linearly, is a direct progression of pages necessary? Releasing the book from its spatial constraints allows for its components can exist outside the context of the book in public spaces. Would these factors provide the reader with agency in terms of how they consume the book? The first iteration explores a call and response between two texts where the physical position of text shifts in relation to the other on a single page. A second iteration features three image references and five textual references all on one modular spread. This version experiments with captions as a means for inserting what is meant to be an objective transcript of external stimuli. My third iteration attempts to lift the text from the physical constraints of the page to activate the reader. The materiality of my final outcome is an A6 publication with adhesive binding and a vellum cover as a representation of the blending of information. Where there would traditionally be a separation of information from page to page, the mobility creates a cloud of image and text that work in conjunction to form fluid compositions. By eliminating physical separation, typography is increasingly integral to forming distinct identities of each input. Formal conventions such as titles and mage numbers are challenged and white space is exaggerated as an indicator for reader interaction. In conjunction with spliced text, there is the full transcript as end of book as a means to show full scope of text as initially presented. The ultimate goal of the publication’s form is to highlight the value of critical thinking through drawing lateral connections.
Unit two primarily focuses on printmaking and publications as means of graphic communication design. There is an overall emphasis on the human labor of printing to create a more genuine article. In Positions through Iterating I utilize translating as a method by extrapolating markings from a whole image. Iterations were developed through the process of scanning a set of etchings that were created during previous studio work. Translation leads to novel iterations where volume is the main consideration in production in this particular instance. The genuine nature of the original etchings are lost through the process of digitization. Evidence of the labor involved in printing processes become unrecognizable as they take on amorphous forms. Positions through Contextualizing introduces concepts of agency for the designer and autonomy in analog media. It is here where I take a moment to engage with craft as an aspect of materiality that contributes to authenticity.
Further conceptual development of my practice can include developing a digital product as a supplement to a publication. I am curious in thinking about the form of a book as a scroll, with no fixed beginning, middle or end, and a single page cannot be viewed without engaging in the previous material. Another potential exploration may feature nostalgia as an element of my practice in publications. The act of collecting print materials, for example. Acquiring limited edition posters, or pages torn from magazines and books develops a strong sense of ownership and a personal connection to the object and its contents. How do I reconcile novelty and nostalgia in my work? Perhaps photography is a medium to consider here.
Recently I have seen seedlings of a potential resurgence of print. In a world where we are becoming increasingly dependent on machines, this preference is a means to reclaim a sense of privacy and ownership of personal information. In recent years it has become evident that social media has resulted in shortened attention spans. An overuse of technology has contributed to a mental health crisis. Meanwhile, an over saturation of information limits the practice of long form reading. I expect my practice to continue to exist in the context of a world where we are surrounded in artificial materials. As technology is constructed from metal, most other objects are plastic, and the general direction of contemporary graphic design is beginning to mimic the shiny, toxic materials they are developed on.
Benjamin, W. (2008) ‘Foreward’, in The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. London: Penguin Books, pp. 1–16.
Colomina, B. and Wigley, M. (2016) ‘Good Design is an Anesthetic’, in Are We Human? Notes on an Archaeology of Design. Zürich, Switzerland: Lars Müller Publishers, pp. 89–101.
Margetts, M. (2022) ‘The Post-craft Turn’, in Post-craft. London: Sternberg Press, pp. 41–51.
Martens, K., Kinross, R. and Triest, J. van (2019) Karel Martens – re-printed matter. Amsterdam: Roma Publications.
McLuhan, M., Agel, J. and Fiore, Q. (2008) The medium is the massage. London etc.: Penguin.
Reimer, K. (1998-2000) Copies, karenreimer.info. Available at: https://karenreimer.info/projects/copies/.
Steyerl, H. (2012) ‘In Defence of the Poor Image’, in The wretched of the screen. Sternberg Press, pp. 31–45.
Walkup, K. (2020) ‘The Book as a Pot-Luck Offering: Edna Beilenson, Jane Grabhorn & Books of the Distaff Side ’, in Natural Enemies of Books: A Messy History of Women in Printing and Typography. Grafikens Hus, pp. 25–50.