Barbara Corrigan

My first exposure to printmaking was in 2003 when I enrolled in a course as part of my art degree. I had experimented with stenciling and mixed media for much of my adult life, but it was in this course that I began to understand the mix of discipline, frustration, and surprise involved in the process of printmaking. 

 

As I enriched and refined my techniques through printmaking courses involving a printing press, I began to relish the physical pull of the print on the press and the thrill of trusting this manual labor to actualize designs that were once preliminary sketches. Especially intriguing to me in this work is the necessity of slowing down. If I do not stay present and move thoughtfully, the lack of breathing space in my process quite literally shows itself in ink. Sometimes my blocks print as I had planned; occasionally I’m surprised by the infamous “happy accident.”  And then there are the prints with mistakes that I have come to appreciate as lessons.

 

From 2012 to 2015, I worked and lived in western and northern Africa where I lacked access to the printmaking materials I had become so used to. But! I had my camera, and thank goodness I did. Both Gambia and Morocco felt so infinite in their visual richness – the white sands and reddish cliffs, the scrambling animals and bright fruits, the good-hearted neighbors and their midnight wedding dances – and I hoped to remember the beautiful parts of this time in my life as clearly as possible. Once I returned to the Boston area, I used my hundreds of photographs as a blueprint and started to carve my memories of Africa into wood, plastic, and linoleum.

 

These days, most of my work is inspired by my natural surroundings. To live in New England is to be lucky enough to have a front row seat to the distinct shifting of the seasons. Even in our coldest months, I am struck by the subtle aliveness to be found in a frozen meadow, and how the sky appears purple in contrast to the stiff silvery wheatgrass. There is always something to notice, and as the winds and leaves and lakes change, so do I, and so does what I see. I can only hope that my partnership with my printing press translates a spark or two of my own awe, so that others may witness the beauty that surrounds me.