Why Do I Love Collagraph Printmaking: An Artist's Journey into Non-Toxic Printing
- Su France
- Feb 21
- 8 min read
Updated: Feb 24
The Curiosity Begins
When visitors come to galleries, my home studio or artisan markets to see my work, many haven't heard of collagraph printmaking. But the moment I show them my tactile plates, something shifts. Curiosity sets in almost instantly — hands reach out, questions follow, and a conversation begins that sometimes ends with the same words: I had no idea you could do that.
This versatile, experimental medium has a way of drawing people in, and it is exactly what made me fall for it as an artist. I have even seen other printmakers present their finished prints alongside the plates that created them — framed together as a pair — and it is an idea I intend to follow.
The plates are such beautiful objects in their own right, layered and textural and full of the evidence of making, that they deserve to be elevated in that way. Above are photographs of myself with Sinclair Ashman, who led the collagraph taster day where my journey began, along with one of his moon prints and the plate that created it. This was at his recent solo show - a relfective of his vast body of work.
Discovering Collagraph: A Non-Toxic Printmaking Method
My journey into collagraph printmaking began with a simple desire: to push my botanical prints further while staying true to sustainable art practices. After receiving Arts Council funding to develop my practice, I researched non-toxic printmaking methods extensively. What I discovered changed everything.
Collagraph ticked every box. Unlike traditional etching or other printmaking techniques I had previously tried, collagraph requires no harsh chemicals and no expensive studio setup.
I can work from home, the materials are relatively inexpensive, and the process is straightforward to manage. But what truly captured me was the extraordinary depth of impression you can achieve — the way different textures translate onto paper creates something that is not almost three-dimensional, but genuinely so.
Turn the paper over and you will see it: the surface has been physically transformed by the press. (see the paper's reverse images below).
I have been experimenting with laid paper bought from John Purcell — it has those gorgeous visible parallel lines running through it, a legacy of the mould used in its making. I have since acquired a mould of my own and intend to try making paper later in the year.
What Makes Collagraph Unlike Any Other Printmaking Method
For those new to printmaking, let me explain what makes collagraph so particular. This technique allows you to work with both intaglio methods — where ink sits in the recessed areas of the plate — and relief methods, where ink sits on the raised surfaces. The same plate can whisper or sing, depending entirely on how you choose to ink it.
Unlike linocut, where you are limited to carving away material, or screen printing with its flat graphic quality, collagraph offers an experimental playground. I can wipe inks in different ways, work with stencils for more controlled marks, then surrender to gestural and fluid techniques. It is this balance between control and discovery that keeps me endlessly engaged.
Building the Plate: Subtractive and Additive Techniques
I work primarily with printmaking Environmount as my base plate material — it is durable, versatile, and responds beautifully to manipulation. The joy of building collagraph plates lies in having two distinct approaches available: subtracting and adding.
Subtractive techniques allow me to create texture by removing material — peeling away layers, scoring lines, punching holes, burning, sanding, scratching, tearing edges, or using tools from my metalsmith bench. Each method leaves its own distinct mark.
I also build up plates by adding elements, particularly by creating my own stencils from oil board and mylar. These give me more controlled marks — but how I choose to ink those same marks can transform their effect entirely. The plate remains constant; the print is always a decision.
A particular material worth mentioning is collagraph wax, specifically the type developed by printmaker Elise Wagener — the only variety I have used. It is a water-soluble, non-toxic wax medium designed specifically for building collagraph plates. Applied in layers, carved into using sgraffito, or combined with materials such as carborundum or textured papers, it creates rich and complex surfaces. Its hybrid inking potential — intaglio or relief, or both simultaneously — makes it one of the most painterly tools in my kit.
The Reveal — and the Plates I Haven't Printed Yet
Ask any printmaker about their favourite moment and most will describe the reveal — that instant when you peel back the paper and see what has transferred. That excited anticipation never fades. It is also, not coincidentally, what printmakers share most on social media.
But I have discovered something else: I love making the plates themselves. So much so that I have many plates I haven't yet printed. As someone whose creative mind tends to meander down diverging tributaries, before returning to the main river, the texture-building phase is where I truly find flow. It is meditative, exploratory, and full of possibility.
Sealing the plates is another matter entirely — but I understand how important it is for their longevity, and I make myself do it in thin layers to ensure I can return to plates if I wish to.
Blind Embossing: Bringing Light into Dark Palettes
One of my most significant discoveries came through blind embossing — printing without ink to create purely textural impressions. This technique taught me how to bring light into my work, which matters greatly because my preferred palette tends toward dark, earthy, natural tones.
Blind embossing showcases the paper itself, and I have become particular about my choices. My preferred surface is Somerset Satin with its velvety finish, bought directly from Somerset Mill. I also love the lighter Japanese papers from Awagami Factory and the tactile quality of laid papers. The right paper does not merely receive the image — it becomes part of the artwork's voice.
Paper as Part of the Artwork's Voice
For collectors and buyers, it is worth understanding what paper means in a collagraph print. The surface you see is not passive. The fibres have been pressed into the plate's topography under considerable pressure, picking up not just ink but the physical shape of the surface itself. The embossing you feel with your fingertip is as much a part of the work as the mark or the colour. This is why a collagraph print rewards close looking — and close touching. At artisan fairs I often suggest that buyers (through compostable cellophane protecting the print's surface) feel the depressions and undulations of the paper.
Monoprints: Every Piece Unrepeatable
Here is what surprises people most: I am a printmaker who rarely makes multiples. While many assume that printmaking means creating identical editions, I prefer monoprints — unique impressions with each pull. I often embellish prints further by hand, ensuring that each one is genuinely one of a kind.
For those building a collection, this matters. You are not choosing from an edition — you are choosing the print. There is no other quite like it, and there never will be. Collecting a monoprint means acquiring something that carries the direct mark of the maker's hand at every stage, from the building of the plate to the moment of printing.
Work That Has Stayed With Me
Some pieces stay with you. I still love the pebble prints I made early in my collagraph journey — a coastal series in which I selected colours directly from the wild beaches of my North East childhood, translating them into earthy pigments and layered textures. Before the summer I intend to return to that territory and see where it leads now.
If you know my work, you will also recognise that bowls are a form I return to again and again. There is something about the vessel — its containment and openness, its everyday familiarity paired with symbolic depth — that keeps drawing me back. The bowl becomes a holder not just for objects, but for memory, landscape, and quiet observation.
Komorebi and Current Explorations
My current work is what excites me most. I have been making semi-abstract prints exploring komorebi — that beautiful Japanese word for the quality of sunlight as it filters through leaves.
In other pieces I have been capturing skeletal leaves in their winter delicacy, alongside marks translated from the arable fields surrounding our home.
I believe it is one of the signs of a healthy practice, whether you are the artist making the work or the buyer considering it, to feel most drawn to what is being made right now.
Winter Balance: Gold, Black and Burnt Sienna
One recent series holds particular meaning for me. Working with a restrained palette of gold, black, and burnt sienna, I created pieces that feel stripped back to winter's essence. Each print took considerable time to ink, working like a jigsaw to position every element precisely before the plate met the press.
What I loved most were the ghost prints — created with the residual ink left on the plate after the sycamore, holly, or other leaves were removed. These whisper-quiet marks feel like winter's sleep: layered, ethereal, reminiscent of early photography. They are among the most poetic things I have made.
A Gift in the Post
What a wonderful surprise to find this arriving in the post — a copy of Collagraph Printmaking: The Technique of Printing from Collage-Type Plates by Mary Ann Wenniger, sent by the lovely José, an inky enthusiast I had the pleasure of meeting at Woolwich Print Fair.
It is a book I had long wanted to find but never managed to track down, making it a truly generous and thoughtful gift — the kind that only someone who genuinely understands a fellow maker's obsessions would think to send.
Despite its age, the book is packed with practical wisdom that holds up beautifully today. Wenniger's guidance on building plate surfaces with carborundum, gesso and found materials, the importance of thorough sealing before inking, and achieving rich velvety darks alongside delicate lighter passages all remain as relevant now as ever.
It is a reminder that the fundamentals of collagraph have not really changed — and that sometimes the older books say it best.
Collagraph for Beginners: An Open Door
The name collagraph comes from colla (glue) and graph (drawing or writing), which can lead to misconceptions. Some assume it is simply a matter of cutting, sticking, and printing — and it can be.
That simplicity makes it an excellent entry point into printmaking, and one I find genuinely moving to introduce to people who have never made a print before.
But collagraph can also be developed into something far more nuanced — a technique that grows with you, welcoming both the curious beginner and the artist seeking new visual languages. If you are considering trying it for the first time, my advice is simply this: embrace the experimental nature of the medium. Mistakes are rarely mistakes. They are often your most interesting discoveries. And if you would like to explore further, do get in touch about courses at my home studio.
Why Collagraph Still Matters
It is a relatively newer printmaking technique in the grand timeline of print art, which means it is still being discovered — both by artists and by those who collect and live with prints. When I show my tactile plates at galleries or markets, I watch people's faces change. The curiosity is immediate and genuine.
What I find wonderful about this medium is how democratic it is: accessible, non-toxic, and endlessly variable. Whether you are drawn to sustainable art practices, love textural work, or are simply looking for something to hang on your wall that rewards sustained attention, collagraph offers a way in.
For me, it has become more than a simple technique. It is a language for translating the natural world — the fields outside my window, the remembered beaches of my childhood, the delicate architecture of winter leaves, the dancing quality of light through trees — into marks on paper that feel true to what I have seen and felt.
And that is why I love it.
If you'd like to learn collagraph printmaking, I run bespoke courses from my home studio — do get in touch if you're interested in arranging one.
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