Smooth as Silk

Silk screening is my newfound love. Just yesterday, I finally had a chance to learn. My friend and I made the trek down to 3rd Ward in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, to take an intensive, five-hour long workshop on Screen Printing 101. It was a hot, muggy day in New York. Unfortunately for us the room was A.C. free, but no matter. We were finally going to learn how to screen print.

We each came prepared with a black and white design and materials to print on. For my bird-themed studio, I decided to draw something, well, bird related, and within the design create a subtle monogram. I brought along some scraps of fabric, an old canvas, two shirts and a couple of plain gray pillowcases that desperately needed some love.

The instructor was thorough and informative. He spent most of the class explaining and demonstrating the process using a photosensitive process to create the screen stencil. In an effort to save time, the screens were already prepared with the emulsion. Our black and white designs were printed on acetate, placed on the screens, held down with glass, then exposed to light for twenty minutes. When the light was exposed to the surface, the areas that were not blocked by design, hardened. The "soft" areas covered by the designs were washed out to open the mesh that would eventually allow ink to pass through.

Some of the screens were not properly exposed, and so the process had to be repeated with about six screens, allowing us to see the instructor remove the emulsion, dry the screens, re-coat and re-expose them. While it was frustrating for him, it enabled us to visually understand the technique since we never really got a chance to practice prep the screens on our own.

After four long hours of demonstration and lecture, most of the class had screens ready to print. It was near dinner time, I was hungry and longing for a bottle of water. When finally he showed us how to squeegee the ink onto the print surface, I was raring to go. I didn't bother with a practice sheet. I mixed my mustard yellow color, prepared the first pillowcase and squeegeed my design onto the fabric surface. The design came through beautifully, the color looked sophisticated on the gray surface. So I went squeegee crazy and applied the design onto the second pillowcase, a t-shirt, a white tank top and stretched canvas until I had my fill. I started thinking of ways I could start a business. I wouldn't be surprised if most do when they first learn to screen print.

Ironically, there was a BBQ pig roast going on at the same time just outside where we were washing and drying our screens. Yet, I didn't get a taste of it or a chance to satisfy my thirst. My friend and I were anxious to leave the very crowded, very sweaty scene, to down a cold beverage, have some dinner, and talk about what we would print next.

Ballet Encore

I finally got the rest of my ballerina figurines from a line I designed for Grasslands Road called "Little Ladies." I'm very excited about how beautifully they turned out. The detail is exquisite. I meant them to look like little pieces of jewelry and, happily, I think I accomplished just that, with the help of a few very fine sculptors in Asia. I wish I could tell you who they are.

I plan on putting up a section in my site to show the line. I think they're worth showcasing. It's the first gift line I ever designed, and I hope it won't be the last. Here is the group of figurines. The line consists of these plus a spinning musical figurine, frames, and plaques. They're available in specialty gift stores across the country.

P.S. 1...maybe it's something in the water

PS1 Highlight Exhibit

Just last weekend, not one week after my lackluster MoMA visit, I ventured out to Queens to see my friend. It was another rainy weekend, so we skipped the outdoor beer garden festival to attend the indoor/outdoor party at P.S. 1 in Long Island City. It was the first of many in the summer season. P.S. 1, MoMA's little sister, is a contemporary art gallery converted from, what used to be, an elementary school, hence its name.

Outside, the agricultural exhibit, complete with livestock, was nice. It was a lovely interactive exhibit with vegetation artfully housed in recyclable cardboard tubing. It was a little wet from the scattered rain showers, which was great for the vegetation, but not so much for the grass seating. However, with the same base, they also created a few water-proof seats using rubber sheathing and tacks. It would eventually be the perfect perch for people watching.

Inside, I could have done without the angry political exhibits (mostly installations), probably in celebration of Independence Day, but still, not what one would expect from a renowned gallery in terms of concept and execution. There was one nice Olafur Eliasson piece, but not enough to keep us inside. So we stuck to people watching outside. The sun made its entrance every so often, keeping us satisfied for quite some time in our drum chairs. So I sketched.

Sitting on grass drums

Then the ten-piece band started tuning their instruments. Well, at least we thought they were. We noticed the conductor, yes there was a conductor, swinging his baton, leading the musicians in a unified chaos of sound. The rhythm was non-existent, and what sounded like tuning instruments was actually experimental…something. Well, I never claimed to be a music aficionado. Needless to say, the crowd, save for a small handful of people, was not enthralled. My friend was lucky enough to have been to another summer event here when the Scissor Sisters played and Bono performed, unannounced. This time, a DJ saved our sense of rhythm and beat by spinning between breaks. I was hoping that, eventually, some fabulous surprise performer or band would show up. No such luck.

Soon enough, the rain fell again, so we decided to make our exit, relieved we had good reason to leave the party early.