I love the moment of reveal as a new colour layer is added to a multi-layer reduction print

This post documents my first major attempt at producing an edition of reduction lino block prints — an unforgiving printmaking process where all colour layers are carved and printed from a single block. Working from a bush camping scene at Weranga, I outline my intentions, influences and practical systems for managing a fourteen-colour reduction print within my broader multi-disciplinary studio practice.

Why Reduction Lino Has No Undo

I’ve always been drawn to the simplicity of block printing. Carving into a resistant surface forces an economical way of thinking — how to convey an image using the fewest shapes and details possible. That constraint is the appeal.

After experimenting with jigsaw block printing last year, I decided to take on the challenging process of reduction lino printing. All colours are printed from a single block, carved back layer by layer until nothing remains. There’s no undo: remove the wrong area too early and the image is permanently changed.

This is an involved project, so I’m splitting my studio notes across two posts. In this first instalment, I share the design thinking and processes that have helped me stay oriented as I stretch myself as a printmaker and negotiate a a new working method.

What I Wanted the Print to Do

This project grows out of an interest in clear blocks of colour and strong tonal structure. In painting, I often chase tonal blockiness through brushwork, but here I wanted a cleaner, more reduced look while retaining the richness of my established oil paint colour palette.

Reduction lino also allows for multiples, which appeals both conceptually and practically. I’m interested in whether these prints might function as a more accessible entry point to collecting my work. If successful, I plan to trial them on my Bluethumb profile and exhibit a small number alongside my more labour-intensive oil paintings, all within my developing Weranga bush getaway body of work.

Modernist printmaking roots

This Weranga bush camping scene is the first in a proposed series. I was aiming for a clean, almost toy-like visual language that emphasises fun, stylisation and legibility.

After recently discovering the work of Sydney Modernist Ethel Spowers, I spent time analysing what draws me to her prints. I’m particularly interested in her use of colour for its tonal power — dividing space into decorative yet readable zones. While often a keyline element typical of block printing compresses her images, it’s the contrast within her limited palettes that sets her work apart.

From Drawing to Fourteen Colours

My camping print began as a simple contour drawing made on site at Weranga. From there, I tested a series of limited-palette gouache studies, before converting the image into a vector illustration in Adobe Illustrator—allowing me to refine the linework and separate the design into distinct colour areas.

From there, I used Photoshop to test colour and tonal relationships. While I tried to maintain a reduced palette in the spirit of Spowers, I allowed myself additional tonal nuance — I am, after all, a painter first and foremost. The final design resolved into fourteen colour layers.

Having a fully separated digital file of my print layers is essential to my process. Reduction lino suits my tendency to move between projects, letting me step away and return without losing my place. The system matters: once lino is carved away prematurely, it can’t be replaced. When I come back after a break, I rely on a printed set of my colour separations to re-orient myself before carving again.

To transfer the drawing, I used a Sharpie marker on Japanese lino, choosing the blue side so the black lines would stay visible for longer. While the marker can transfer to the paper during the early print layers, I’ve found it’s adequately covered by subsequent colour layers. Avoiding solvents and cleaning with vegetable oil helps preserve the linework guide for longer, but even so, the drawing does fade. What remains, though—combined with good lighting and a full-scale colour guide—is still enough to keep me on track as I carve each new layer.

Halfway There

The print is now well underway, with around half the colours printed and the block significantly reduced. In Part Two, I’ll discuss my use of a medium that allows oil paint to behave like printing ink, along with a simple homemade registration system for keeping layers aligned. I’m hoping to share images of the completed print as I continue working on it between other studio projects.