After a few years of reading and a year of intermittent drawing, I have settled into full time work on my next book, Character Traits. The book consists of three parts: a bound essay with a section of notes on the plates; a portfolio of unbound plates; and, accompanying the deluxe copies, a small volume of color studies cut in linoleum. The plates are short texts by various authors, set in alphabets that are either impossible to produce in metal type, or so impractical that they would never have been produced in metal. The purpose of these limitations is to explore digitally native letterforms free from the limitations of typographic technology. (I discuss the basic technological ideas behind Character Traits in an earlier post.)
In keeping with the non-typographic aspect of the project, I am printing the texts from intaglio rather than relief plates. The intaglio process allows for highly intense colors but, unlike my recent relief color printing, it does not work well with color overlay. The recesses of the intaglio plates are inked in a single color, and, if I want a second color, it is top-rolled onto the relief surface of the plate.* This produces two color prints in which the colors are adjacent to, rather than on top of, one another. After years of thinking of color as developing in vertical layers, the change to a horizontal coexistence of no more than two colors seemed as foreign as speaking an unknown language.
To begin to deal with this new two-color reality, I spent five weeks looking at colors in combination around the tiny town of Ballycastle, County Mayo, Ireland this past summer, while on residency at the Ballinglen Arts Foundation. When asked, most people would say that County Mayo Ireland only has two colors: green and brown. Those in a generous mood might add gray to the list or, if particularly open minded, blue. Long views of the landscape generally back up this prejudice: green pastureland and brown bogs, ending at gray rocks that sawtooth into the alternately gray or blue sea, under an alternately gray or blue sky.
On closer inspection, the landscape that at a distance appears a patchwork of monochromes is actually composed of a great variety of color, with purples predominating, flanked by reds, oranges, yellows, and an unchartable gradation of greens, grays, browns, etc. Charlotte Brontë described the general impression of this type of landscape beautifully in Jane Eyre, "I felt the consecration of its loneliness: my eye feasted on the outline of swell and sweep—on the wild colouring communicated to ridge and dell by moss, by heath-bell, by flower-sprinkled turf, by brilliant bracken, and mellow granite crag." As one zooms in, the landscape gets progressively more colorful