Repressed artistic tendencies

If I wasn't making jewelry, I'd be a letterpress artist. I know that sounds a little like saying, "If I didn't train lions, I'd train tigers." They're both art, both very detail-oriented. But the processes are not the same at all. Letterpress exercises a different artistic muscle. Flexing it gives me a thrill, a special endorphin rush. I'm happy with where I ended up, but letterpress holds a special place in my heart.

Letterpress is the old method of publishing -- a weighted machine squeezes type against paper when hand-cranked. I first discovered it in college. One of my journalism professors invited us over to his place for an end-of-the-semester celebration, and in his garage he had an old hand-crank letterpress used to publish some newspaper many moons ago. I was enthralled. He liked to crank out little newsletters, but pawing through his type I saw the potential for something that was cool.

Then, several years later, my future husband and I were walking to work in downtown D.C. one day when we were stopped in our tracks by a pop-up gallery at the corner of 14th and G. Some of the art was reminiscent of outsider art, which we love, but it looked like it was woodblock prints. We had discovered Yee-Haw Industrial Letterpress, and we (and our bank account) would never be the same.

Our biggest Yee-Haw splurge: The Johnny Cash fine art
print hangs above our fireplace.
Pizza delivery boys covet it.

We now have many, many letterpress artists we love, but I believe Yee-Haw will eventually be on every wall of our house. Some rooms have two or more Yee-Haw prints. My husband gave me a Yee-Haw print as a wedding gift.  We have visited them at their studio in Knoxville, TN, twice. Adam at Yee-Haw made our daughter's birth announcement. I visit the Yee-Haw booth at Merlefest before I even see a show. I took a multi-day letterpress workshop with the founders of Yee-Haw, Kevin Bradley and Julie Belcher. Kevin introduced us to our favorite record store in Knoxville. We know he wears alarming argyle knee-high socks. We obviously have an unhealthy relationship with Yee-Haw.

But sometimes that's how you discover your interests (letterpress, stalking). I figured I could make letterpress art, too. My husband and sister began poking around and found Pyramid Atlantic in Silver Spring, MD. Pyramid Atlantic is an arts center dedicated to papermaking and printmaking. This means they have several presses, including my big babies: two Vandercook presses. Swoon! Presses have their own personalities, and these guys were no different. They flirted with me. I attended a one-night workshop to learn how to use the suckers, and then it suddenly became My Thing. I was home all day every day with a baby and needed a break -- just a little something to get me out and re-establish who I was outside of being a mom. Apparently, who I was was an ink monkey. I was soon going once a week, setting type into designs and printing them. There was a little gang of us who went religiously. We didn't talk too much about life outside that room. I think it was an escape for all of us, not just me.

One of the woodblock prints I carved and pressed
at a workshop with Yee-Haw's founders (an
homage to the 14th Street of my youth).

Letterpress is not easy. It can take hours and hours and therefore days to set the type in the design you want. And it has to be backward.  Or you can carve your design into wood and press that, but that carved design also has to be backward.  If you want two or more colors, you have to make two or more layouts or carvings.  Plus you have to understand how a 100-year-old machine works. Sometimes the Vandercook won't give you good pressure no matter what you do. Sometimes it takes forever to line your type and paper up. Sometimes the ink will not spread into a certain spot no matter how hard you try. It takes quite awhile to clean the press afterward. I loved every minute of it.

But the trip to Pyramid Atlantic was a long one -- almost an hour each way, one way in rush-hour traffic. When we moved even further south, I gave it up. I miss it. I'd love to have a letterpress here at home I could play with. But even if I could afford one, it would mean giving up the garage (big, heavy presses need to sit on a concrete slab). After years of exposing my vehicle (and myself) to the elements, I like having a garage for its intended purposes. I'm not ready to give it up. So I decided it was time to rededicate myself to jewelry. But I think of letterpress often. How can I not, with Yee-Haw in every room? Maybe one day I'll find a little tabletop press for stationary. I can make little cards, silly gift tags, small prints for friends. I've even figured out a way I could marry my love of jewelry and letterpress. I think there's a chance it could happen. It took many years to achieve my metalsmithing dreams, but I did. I don't think I need to give up on letterpress just yet.