Louise Kohrman is a printmaker based in Western Massachusetts, who teaches at Smith College and RISD. The fine lines, lovely aesthetic, and calm, focusing effect of her work drew me in from the start. Kohrman kindly allowed me to ask her a few questions, and her answers, to me, feel similar to her art: focused, meditative, quiet, and compelling.
What themes seem to occur/reoccur in your work?
Repetition/seriality – The act of repetition is what first drew me to the medium of printmaking, since it is inherent in its process. I work with multiplicity – always working in a series. I never work on one piece alone. Working in a series provides me with a structure to work within and allows me to explore a certain sequencing of thought- or how the viewer reads the image, the recurrence, the repeat.
Collecting/specimens – My methods are hyper-organized, detailed and obsessive and focuses on collecting, in a way. Collecting of objects, thoughts and repetitive motions. It explores aggregates and clusters of marks and, more recently, the idea of the work as a specimen-object, actually encasing and presenting it as a specimen.
Meditation/introspection - The work exists as a working meditation for me as I create. I hope that the viewer may have a similar experience or at least find a sense of contemplation or stillness from viewing the work.
Quietude/Invisibility - I think there is a lot that can be observed in what is not stated. The quietude in the work, or absence, is there to evoke a space for reflection and softness.
Core/Focus – There is always a central focal point in my work, whether it is an axis or mid-point where the work begins. I am interested in creating a hermetic space, a nest, a pod, again, a place for contemplation.
Where do you draw inspiration from?
There are certain objects that invoke inspiration, but I like to keep that to myself as I don’t consider them relevant to the end result. I look at the natural and man-made patterns that imbue my environment and the ways in which things disperse and become almost decorative.
I do not work from observation, but I am not sure if I consider my work to be “abstraction”. My recent work is more stream of conscious, in order to evoke a certain structure and process of working. In fact, I almost think of the newer work as little stories or narratives. They tell the tale of how the piece was made, of the thoughts in my head. They are specimens and collections of marks and thoughts. So in essence, my inspiration comes from the “now”.
Do you have any favorite artists?
It varies moment to moment but here are a few that are currently on my mind (in no particular order): Agnes Martin, James Turrell, Anish Kapoor, Dorothy Napangardi, James McNeill Whistler, Kiki Smith, Victoria Burge, John Cage, Tara Donovan, Astrid Bowlby, Johannes Vermeer, Anne Appleby.
You were born in Denmark. Did you grow up there? Do you still feel a connected to or in any way shaped by Danish culture?
I was born in Copenhagen in 1979 and my family moved to the States in 1986. My mother is Danish and my father is American – from Kentucky. I don’t think one can avoid the influence of the place where one grew up or the culture that infused them at a young age, so, yes, I am still very connected to the Danish culture and traditions. I definitely feel a bond with the Danish aesthetic and am seemingly influenced by the quality of craftsmanship, meticulousness and sparseness of design, as well as the simplicity and orderliness of things that defines the culture.
The Danes have a word “hygge” that is difficult to translate into the English language. It was a concept or tradition I grew up with and essentially epitomizes the feeling I have when I am making work. It can somewhat be defined as a feeling of coziness or comfort or enjoying a quiet moment, usually with friends. For me, in this case, my friends are my art pieces. This is the mental space I enter when I make work.
What materials do you find yourself working with most often, and why?
My studio practice focuses on drawing and etching. I always start with a blank copper plate or sheet of paper. There is something about the emptiness of the page (or plate) that appeals. It’s usually a calling or need to act out a repetitive drawing or process that beckons me to start a work.
Gampi paper has an inherent strength and translucency that I love. Gampi is a silk-like bush fiber that has been used for centuries in Japanese papermaking. It is known for its very fine fibers, which results in a very strong, thin and luminous surface. It is the dream surface for printing etchings as I find it picks up every nuance as I print. And nothing quite rivals the sheen of the paper. It almost seems to glow.
I love how copper corrodes (with acid) and receives the mark of a tool. It shows the history of mark making when printed. It has a memory, as does the paper, when you run it through the press. The way the paper molds over the copper, which is etched, creates a sculptural quality. When you look at an etching with a magnifying glass, I love that you can see the embossed ink lines where the paper was pushed down into the recesses of the plate to pick up ink. The materials record everything. This is critical as my process is additive (I never erase) and I want the entire process of making and adding mark to mark to show in the finished piece.
I get the sense that you are interested in the history of the materials that you use, and the history of printmaking itself. Do you have any favorite stories that you like to tell students about in terms of the materials or the history of printmaking?
I am trained as a printer, so process is ingrained in me. The way I work is completely rooted in my study of printmaking, an inherently repetitious and traditional technique. I often recount stories of when I worked as a printer for Wingate Studios in Hinsdale, NH. This experience greatly impacted my personal practice as an artist. and refined my technical skills. I was lucky to be able to work with artists such as Walton Ford, Aaron Noble, Benny Andrews, and print the work of Louise Bourgeois, among others. Observing and assisting with someone else’s artistic process is a very special thing.
When I teach intaglio courses, there are certain prints I want my students to be aware of. One gem, I like to share with students is Claude Mellan’s “The Sudarium” (Veil of St. Veronica). It’s a French engraving from 1649 depicting the visage of Christ’s face miraculously imprinted on a folded veil with lettering, all engraved in one single spiral line (starting from the tip of Jesus’ nose). The print itself is an impressive technical masterpiece, and the text below the image, FORMATVS VNICVS VNA (“the one formed in one”) exalts the uniqueness of Christ and the miraculous image on the veil, and the virtuosity of executing the image in a single, perfect line.
When I can, I like to bring my students to the RISD Museum’s Department of Prints, Drawings and Photographs, to view one of the originals they have in their collection.
Your Presence of Absence etchings are so delicate. They make me think of ornamentation and spider webs and also laundry lines. Can you tell me about how the project came into being and what the name means to you?
Line has become increasingly important in my work. It is one of the main vehicles I use when I draw or etch. In the "Presence of Absence" series I am investigating how links of circles can form webs of line networks and how this can link moments of tension and connection both as I draw the image on copper but also as the viewer reads the image.
Concepts I was investigating in this series include: points of connection, tension, knitting on copper, using a line of stitches to make the drawing. and story-telling. The process of stitch-like drawing also mimics the process of sewing I use to adhere sculptural prints onto paper in other pieces. In this way it is important to me that the entire process is so interconnected.
In this series I am most interested in the open breathing space I create for the viewer that beckons one into contemplation. I am intrigued with comparing the visible with the invisible.
As for the title of the series, being present/existing in the present moment is a fundamental basis for the work. It is something that happens in the process of making. It is really the content of the work. This allows for a display of memory or absence because each work traces the history of making, showcases the memory of mark and process and introduces absence as a place for subtlety and contemplation. The pieces I make are just as much about what is there as what is not there. I think that one needs to be aware of memory and absence to be in the present.
You created a lovely series of prints around the concept of lace. What drew you to the material?
Thank you.
Looking at old lace and hand-made doilies and considering the careful, detailed, patient, time-consuming process that went into crafting such objects was what first attracted me to do an etching series based on the process of lace-making. In working on this series, I was becoming increasingly attracted to the idea of something purely decorative and notions of beauty.
The idea of these pieces one day transforming into objects evolved out of this series, and I suspect that is because the original idea for them grew out of something that had “objecthood”. As I began to draw into the ground on the copper plates, I started to view them as little collections of objects and began to think of them in sculptural formats moving forward.
After I editioned this print series, I held on to the plates and printed other prints from them that I later cut up and used as sculptural elements in later prints, and eventually in wall installations. The idea that each form can become part of another to create a greater mass, or an accumulation of shapes, was very exciting to me.
One thing I appreciate about your Lace Series is that the etchings are not symmetrical. To me this gives them an organic feel, even calling to mind cellular structure, minute and delicate bits of biological matter. Why did you choose to etch them asymmetrically?
I am fascinated with the circle as a vehicle for obtaining balance and harmony. In the Lace Series, I was using this as the vehicle for drawing clusters of information, but not containing those clusters in a circular format, as I do in other works or in my recent site-specific installations. All circles have a mid-point and that is where I usually begin on my blank page or plate or wall.
This starting point creates a sense of focus and groundedness as I work. In this case, I was playing more with the idea of a mid-point or a central axis or spine in the work as a grounding feature. So while I started from a point of reference, I did not create the drawing as an outgrowth in a symmetrical way. In this way, I hoped they would reference the body more and serve the viewer in a more self-reflective way. I was exploring how I could break away from a structure I was using.
When did you start making installation work and what inspired that choice?
The "Gossamer" series introduced sculptural paper elements into my two-dimensional work. Through careful pencil drawing and printed sculptural elements, I am investigating the interconnectedness of forms that are characteristic of my work and what happens when I allow them to grow off the page. In this series, I focus on how pattern and repetition can quiet the mind and how accumulations and dispersions create an interesting tension.
The sculptural element has helped me to begin to see the work I do as “specimens”. I think that my most recent series of work, "…forever on the mind." a site specific piece created for the space at APE Ltd Gallery in Northampton, MA encapsulates how working in a series and repetition are important to me. The printed pieces are from larger images (not on display) that were then cut out to make smaller scale “prints” or elements. So first, there was the repetitive process of drawing and etching on copper, then printing and drying. Then I proceeded to cut circles out of each of the prints, so I ended up with a multitude of circle prints. These were then slit and pasted together into concave specimens so I created a series of sculptural multiples.
These were then pinned to the wall starting from a central point and working outwards so that the process of installation actually mirrored the process the original prints were drawn. Lastly, I created a slightly concave dip in the installation so that the inner pieces sit closer to the wall, mimicking the individual pieces. The piece also plays with ideas of obsession, accumulation and dispersion formally and conceptually.
The title pays homage to the artist Agnes Martin who said: "My paintings are not about what is seen. They are about what is known forever in the mind."
When I am making the work I do not consider audience. It is completely introspective. However, when I install the work, especially in my newer installation pieces, I do consider how an audience will react. I become curious as to what they might see and how they will engage in the work, but I leave this up to them completely. Their experience belongs to them, just like my experience of making belongs to me.
What kind of environment makes you feel most creative? What time of the day do you make art and do you have any routines in the studio?
In the same way that I always start a new piece with a blank copper plate or sheet of paper or empty wall, I need a space free from clutter and distraction when I make work. I have a large dining room table that my father made for me, and these days that is my favorite place to work. I clean the entire space so all that I find on the table when I begin is my matrix and tools and sometimes prints or papers if I am working on a stitching project. There is something about the emptiness of the workspace that seems necessary for my process. I also enjoy a good cup of coffee when I work and prefer quiet mornings. I love it, too, when the sunlight is just right.
When I am at the studio printing (Zea Mays Printmaking, Florence, MA) I have a different routine. Inks have to be arranged a certain way, paper prepped, plates set out, plastic damp packs ready, etc. and I always have a music playlist ready to go. I enjoy the methodological way of printing and the meditative routine it creates. First inking and wiping the plates, then printing, and repeating these actions over and over and over. It’s very enjoyable.
Do you carry a sketchbook? Do you do any work outside of the studio, and if so, where?
No and no. Place is important to me, as is routine, so unless I am working on a site-specific piece, it feels uncomfortable to work in new or different places.
Any advice for aspiring artists?
Just make work. Trudge forward even when it seems impossible. Enjoy the inner solitude of your process, despite the difficulty that may present.
Thank you, Louise!
See more of Louise Kohrman's work at her website.
