‘I’m going to Cornwall, as far west as you can go!’ is the refrain I often use when discussing my plans to see my family, who live just a few miles from Land’s End. When arriving by train into Penzance you’ll see is the looming figure of St Michael’s Mount, a rather romantic and slightly spooky castle high on a rocky island, only reachable on foot at low tide (or else you can load yourself onto a tourist boat).

A few years ago, my dad called to say that the tiny island appeared to be on fire. The beach was ablaze but no emergency services appeared to be on the horizon. As it turns out this was all a cinematic conceit – the mount was being used as a set for HBO’s ‘House of the Dragon’.

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After a particularly soggy traipse around the town at the beginning of this week-long excursion, I vowed to spend the rest of my trip (and the promised sunshine) away from the crowds. This included soaking up the delights of the Jubilee Pool in Penzance, a lido worth its (literal) salt come rain or shine. It’s an Art Deco gem that has sadly lost its architectural partner, the former PZ Gallery (though the Yacht Inn, which is all white and sweeping lines, still remains).

Travelling to such a mythic ‘end point’ can often feel like you’re about to drop off the edge of the world. It is no wonder that the giants of British Modernism (Barbara Hepworth, Ben Nicholson, Wilhelmina Barnes-Graham, to name a few) flocked to fishing villages such as St Ives, where changeable – often vicious – weather, a gorgeous rugged coastline and an undeniable dose of witchcraft brings you closer to the elements.

Nowadays, this particular town has become drenched with tourism in the summer months, though the embarrassment of art-related riches (Porthmeor Studios, Leach Pottery, St Ives School of Painting, Barbara Hepworth’s studio, Tate St Ives and the Penwith Gallery, to name a few) make it a worthy site of art pilgrimage.

Penzance has its own distinct history, with a flourishing art scene that seems to blossom more every time I visit. There are not one, but two sub-tropical Victorian gardens that surround the Penlee House Gallery (its currently showing a survey of British artists who are women) and along with the Morrab Library (another Victorian gem) you can now visit the newly restored Gardener’s House, too.

Strolling along the promenade, you can see Stevie McCrindle’s flags inspired by Japanese gyotaku ‘fish prints’ (the town commissions a new artist annually). Its only a brief walk to Newlyn Art Gallery, named for the smaller adjunct fishing port that was also home to the Newlyn School of Painters, who preferred en plein air and a realism that often focused on working life, from the late 1800s onwards. Founded by Walter Langley, Laura Knight was also a member.

On this visit to the gallery, it was a happy accident that Caroline Walker’s show ‘Mothering’ was on display. Over the years the artist and I have discussed her subjects at length, and the fact that this was my baby nephew’s first exhibition made it all the more special. He was particularly taken with a scene that showed a caesarean operation, painted as part of Walker’s residency at UCLH. Such a subject is rarely depicted, especially with such grace and tenderness.

A double-entry ticket always brings me back to The Exchange, the gallery’s sister venue which involves going back into Penzance – though not before getting an ice-cream at Jelbert’s an institution that only serves one delicious flavour: vanilla!

The Exchange has a contemporary and experimental focus, and a new show by Libita Sibungu did not disappoint. The artist has British-Namibian-Cornish heritage and works with cyanotypes, photography and drawings to bridge connections between the African diaspora and Cornish mythology.

For this iteration, a rumbling, pulsating soundtrack invited me to sit on a round platform among enormous banners, which are imprinted with the outlines of objects pulled from the landscape, be it sand, crystals or thorns. Meditative is an overused word, but is pretty appropriate on this occasion.

Moments away, a new (tiny) bookshop-printers-gallery called Toner diverted my attention with a small show of Matt Martin’s photography, not to mention a brilliant collection of rare and cutting-edge photobooks that were for sale. It is now on my ‘forever’ list along with Barton Books, whose hand-picked selection of second-hand items and new releases always gets me excited. On this visit, I also came across Hweg, a new art space that is currently showing works by Dean Knight, it features blown-up pages from the zine Outback Newsletter made and edited by lesbian women based around Penzance from 1996 to 2008 (the archive is held at Kresen Kernow).

Back on Chapel Street, the wonderfully whacky Egyptian House always makes me smile. It was originally built as a geology repository and museum, following the ‘Egyptomania’ that gripped England thanks to archeological digs (and a fair amount of grave-robbing) in the 19th century. The ground floor now contains two shops, but you can stay upstairs.

Elsewhere on the street the high camp continues. The Chocolate House is now nothing more than a holiday home with a cherubic facade, but the Admiral Benbow pub is a cavalcade of kitsch that is actually festooned with genuine artefacts from shipwrecks (and much more besides).

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t spend most of my trip getting in the water. Beyond the usual daily excursions to Sennen Cove (a ridiculously gorgeous beach which just happens to be my family’s local) and lido laps, I made my way to the Mousehole (pronounced mowzel) tidal pool. Usually I’d never approach this obscenely popular village in the height of summer, but it was strangely quiet and joyfully lacking in fellow swimmers.

A final trip to Land’s End proper involved standing next to the ubiquitous sign pointing to New York and John O’Groats and marvelling at the bizarre cliff-edge farm, where pigs, horses and llamas graze moments from the Atlantic Ocean, seemingly undisturbed.

Just beyond, the Longships Lighthouse bleats its warnings from Carn Bras rock, signalling the dangers that lurk amid the crashing waves, or as John Ruskin put it after his own visit: ‘the whole surface of the sea becomes one dizzy whirl of rushing, writhing, tortured, undirected rage, bounding, and crashing, and coiling in an anarchy of enormous power.’

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It’s high summer and London is sweltering. Between trying to keep my garden alive and heading to Hampstead Heath for a dip, I’ve been taking some deep dives into the world of Japanese Ukiyo-e prints (which are more accurately called Nishiki-e or ‘brocade’ prints due to their incredible detail and colour).

Master artists like Hokusai and Hiroshige produced visions of their homeland for Japanese audiences, just as restrictions on movement were relaxed and a new era of prosperity led to a culture-savvy and image-hungry merchant class in the mood for domestic travel. From snow-capped mountains to urban festivals, these gorgeous motifs have created an enduring image of Japan.

Read more about two of my favourite works by Hiroshige (I couldn’t choose just one!) below.

Also, check out this podcast episode of Art UK’s ‘Your Art, Unlocked’, where I uncover the story of how an incredible collection of Japanese prints found their way to Lancashire. Thanks to Anthea Purkis at Blackburn Museum, and printmaker Adrian Holmes, for their interviews.

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News and reviews

Hyperallergic ran a fantastic in-depth review of The Story of Printmaking, and Tabish Khan named it one of his summer must-reads in FAD Magazine.

You can hear me talking about the book and my wider creative background on the brilliant ‘Hello, Print Friend’ podcast, too.

Recent writing

For The World of Interiors I wrote about Camille Henrot’s paintbrush library and its unusual origins in a print collaboration inspired by Sigmar Polke. Read about it here.

And here’s one from the archive: I met the renowned master printer and artist Norman Ackroyd at his home and studio in Bermondsey, a few months before he passed away in 2024. His level of knowledge was unsurpassed, and I’ll treasure the conversations we had. Read the accompanying pieces for The World of Interiors here, and here.

Upcoming events

I will be speaking at Chiswick Book Festival on 14 September, speaking about Hogarth and his influence, given the very apt location of Hogarth’s House (which has its own working printing press).

I’m on the judging panel for Imprint, formerly known as Woolwich Print Fair. Selections will be made public shortly, and you can get ready for the next edition of the fair this autumn (27 October – 1 November).

Two amazing works

The series ‘One Hundred Famous Views of Edo’ by Utagawa Hiroshige is an exemplar of the Nishiki-e landscape compendiums that gained huge popularity in Edo period Japan. Hiroshige focused on a range of recognisable vistas and stops along the Tōkaidō Road trade route. Working with expert cutters and printers, he conceived visions swathed in astonishing colour gradients called bokashi, and filled them with symbolism relating to local customs, recognisable landmarks and allusions to urban decadence.

While much is made of the compositional flatness of Japanese woodblock (and the huge effect it had on European art), both Mannen Bridge, Fukagawa and Plum Park at Kameido (1858) demonstrate experiments in perspective that were influenced by the recent influx of western art.

In Mannen Bridge, it is as if we are embodying the viewpoint of the tethered turtle, which would have been sold to travellers beneath the bridge and then released, to promote good karma. Likewise, Plum Park takes the famed garyūbai or ‘sleeping dragon tree’ as its subject, using the French concept of repoussoir – where an unusual object is foregrounded to frame a wider scene – to push against the formal parameters of Japanese tradition.

This work was a favourite of Vincent Van Gogh (an avid collector of Japanese prints) who painted his own version with expressive brushstrokes in lieu of Hiroshige’s subtly hued land and sky.

Exhibitions I’ve got my eye on

• ‘Donald Locke: Resistant Forms’ at Camden Arts Centre (until 30 August) is best-known for ceramics and assemblages, but he also incorporates archive photographs and lithography into his larger canvas works. I really loved this show.

• ‘Hokusai: Thirty-six views of Mount Fuji from the Iuchi Collection’ at Dulwich Picture Gallery (20 October – 17 January 2027) will be a wonderful opportunity to view the work of that other giant of Ukiyo-e art.

• A reminder, both York Art Gallery and The Whitworth in Manchester have shows of Nishiki-e on right now (until 130 August and 5 November respectively).

My must-read

‘Hokusai’s Method’ (Thames & Hudson) is a joyful collection of 15 volumes of e-tehon or ‘drawing manuals’ that the artist produced, so that others might emulate his distinct style. From puffer fish to demons and courtesans, it has something for everyone.

Lasting impressions

The ‘Hello, Print Friend’ studio is fundraising to produce the world’s largest-ever woodblock print. At over 5,000 square feet and consisting of 160 hand-carved blocks, it is set to be an incredible endeavour taking place in spring 2027 (with a steamroller functioning as a press).

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There have been a few lovely reviews of The Story of Printmaking, including in The World of Interiors, The Spectator, Museums Journal and Literary Review.

You can also hear me waxing lyrical on the New Books Network podcast, which I recorded from a shabby Venetian hotel room back in April. Watch this space for more audiovisual print chat, coming soon.

This month I’m considering all things illusionary, thanks to a new exhibition of work by MC Escher at Somerset House (until 6 September). The Dutch artist’s uncanny ability to command both tessellation and visual perception has made his images some of the most indelible in recent history, and beloved pop culture fare.

His training in relief printing and lithography influenced his deft command of positive and negative space, informing how he approached his graphic compositions. Read more on this subject below…

Recent writings

I wrote about the lineage of Georg Baselitz for Gagosian Quarterly. He was both a prolific printer and an enthusiastic collector of mannerist impressions from the likes of Ugo da Carpi and Hendrick Goltzius.

My own addition to Fridamania comes in the form of a story about Casa Azul, and how the beloved ‘blue house’ influenced Frida Kahlo’s life and work. I also previewed the Tate Modern show before the grand opening, for The World of Interiors.

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Upcoming events

I am travelling to the Isle of Wight for a talk at Department on 2 July, where I’ll be speaking about The Story of Printmaking. The event has been organised by Brevity, the Island’s literary handbill, and you can get your tickets here.

One amazing work

Inside St Peter’s is a depth-defying image designed to induce that lurching sense of vertigo one often experiences from great heights. MC Escher was fascinated by Italian architecture, particularly geometric Moorish influences, and this print served as an early example of his ‘perspectival fantasies’, where impossible scenes are brought to life. He employed advanced mathematical methodology (and the rather mystical sounding crystallography) to conceive these compositions.

In this instance, the viewpoint of the upper gallery St Peter’s Basilica in Rome is conceived in dense line work that seems to pull the viewer’s eye downwards, mimicking the sensation of falling.

The term ‘wood engraving’ can often lead to confusion, as it is a relief process that riffs off of woodblock, as opposed to having anything to do with intaglio. Its defining characteristic is the use of a steel rod known as a ‘graver’, which is used to incise the end grain of a piece of hard wood. It allows for much finer details, which can be seen here in the minuscule tile patterns and even tinier people.

Exhibitions I’ve got my eye on

Small Print International 2026 runs at Leicester Print Workshop until 11 July

Printed art market runs at the Art House in Wakefield on 11 July

‘Rembrandt to Matisse – A Celebration of European Works on Paper’ at the National Gallery of Ireland (18 July – 6 December)

Spike Print Fair at Spike Island, Bristol runs in partnership with Spike Print Studio and the UWE Bristol School of Arts and Centre for Print Research (25 – 26 July)

My must-read

For a succinct guide to all things Frida Kahlo, this volume from Laurence King’s ‘Lives of the Artists’ series is a must-read. Written by critic Hettie Judah, it is full of insight into her life and work.

Lasting impressions

London’s Hausprint (where I studied lithography) is running a 4-day linocut workshop (3-6 August) where you can learn everything from the basics to more advanced milt-layer jigsaw blocks. Book your spot here.

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While far-flung trips are often de rigueur in my working life, I love a quick little getaway not too far from my doorstep. My most recent sojourn took me to the Cotswolds, to see the wonders of Kelmscott Manor (and more besides). This was the country home of William and Jane Morris, power couple of the Arts and Crafts movement, who escaped to the outer tributaries of the Thames with their daughters May and Jane Alice, when life in the capital became a little too much.

Visitors have to park about half a mile away way from the house, and a modest sign encourages a detour to the local church, where the Morris graves can be found hidden behind a sizeable bay tree in the surrounding grounds (I had to give directions to several other keen visitors). Inside this house of worship there are remnants of 13th-century wall paintings depicting Old Testament stories, as well as Turkish wall hangings gifted by Jane.

The vista towards the residence is nothing short of idyllic. Sun-drenched countryside gives way to gardens filled with roses and more than a dash of ornamental bunting, while the prevalence of Cotswold stone serves as reminder that these houses would have looked much the same when they were the Morrises’ neighbours over 100 years ago.

Despite its relative grandeur, the manor was still part of a working farm when this creative family first took up the rent in 1871. William described it as ‘heaven on earth’ and it served as inspiration for his novel News from Nowhere, and inspired the name for his lauded printing enterprise, the Kelmscott Press.

It was not until the death of William, and soon after Jane, that the property was truly secured for the family. On inheriting, May Morris went about creating something of a shrine to her father’s genius (she cared little for her own legacy as a gifted embroiderer and educator, and was not as concerned with the careers of her mother or sister). She lived there with her partner Mary Frances Vivian Lobb (usually referred to as a companion). Together they preserved the house and even continued William’s love of topiary, which included a large, shapely dragon that still remains.

One of the most fascinating aspects of the house is that every element found within has a connection to the family. This is even more remarkable considering the large sale that took place after May’s death. Tapestries, furniture, pictures and paintings were all left on the front lawn, soaked by the rain, with lacklustre interest from would-be buyers who were too preoccupied with the incoming rumblings of war.

Among the treasures now returned to the house are a series of Albrecht Dürer prints from the Apocalypse cycle (most likely Victorian impressions taken from the original blocks) and several paintings by Gabriel Dante Rossetti, including the alluring Mrs William Morris Wearing a Blue Silk Dress (1868) which features the Latin inscription ‘Famed by her poet husband, and of surpassing beauty, now let her win lasting fame by my painting.’

This conceited sentiment alludes to their longstanding love affair, which was cemented soon after William’s departure for Iceland. Rossetti actually held joint tenancy with the Morrises, and had his own room, filled with 17th-century Flemish tapestries that he despised. He even went so far as to pin drawings on top of them.

These intricate wall hangings are currently undergoing extensive restoration, and the manor is undertaking extensive fundraising to complete this mammoth task.

Not far from Kelmscott is another Pre-Raphaelite gem of an entirely different kind. Buscot Park is a formidable 18th-century country estate that has passed through various hands, and is home to Lord Faringdon. Among the varied art collection (which features a fair amount of Egyptomania, a few Rembrandts and some rather more modern trompe l’oeil) is the Briar Rose cycle, by Edward Burne-Jones.

This collection of pictures articulate the Grimm’s fairytale of the Sleeping Beauty, which had become something of an obsession for the artist. Following Lord Farington’s purchase after their exhibition in London, Burne-Jones visited the house and proposed extending the elaborate scenes of a thorn-covered castle and slumbering subjects with several extra canvases and smaller ‘slips’ that add a moment of repose, alongside texts by Morris.

In these additional images figures are entirely absent, and the gentle creep of this hardy bloom crawls among shadowy staircases and more humble quarters. The stillness is palpable.

As a keen (but not overly gifted) gardener I am always excited to take in the grounds of these estates, and Buscot Park certainly did not disappoint. The walled garden is divided into quarters denoting the four seasons, and during my visit it was replete with the last throes of wisteria, alliums, lupins, peonies and more, with classically inspired sculptures nodding to various mythical allegories.

The theme was rounded off with a trip to perhaps the most astonishing garden centre I have ever seen. The Burford Garden Company not only features an astounding selection of plants, but interiors that include truly joyous items such as confectionary-themed candles by Cereria Introna, a Puglia-based company that specialises in hyper-realistic wax cakes and fruit.

Moreover, beyond the tinkling of a mini-grand and an array of local produce, is a bookshop and antiques section that counts among its holdings both Roman coins and a series of ancient Egyptian shabti. The funerary figurines were essential in the afterlife, and I must admit that the sight of them on sale so far from home made me feel rather melancholy.

I did however depart with a rather fantastic succulent, which joined a few discount lilies that set me back 50p courtesy of the Buscot Park gardener, and my ‘Strawberry Thief’ plant bought at Kelmscott. Perfect souvenirs from a whistle-stop stay.

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At the beginning of May I finally got to celebrate the launch of The Story of Printmaking in style, with cake and champagne, surrounded by friends, family, artists and printmakers. To finally punctuate this journey feels surreal and incredible, and we sold out of books! Apparently that never happens…

This month’s focus is on Paula Rego, that indomitable artist and masterful etcher whose fantastical world is both enrapturing and unsettling. I visited her north London studio at the invitation of her son, Nick Willing, who manages her estate and made an amazing documentary all about her. This awe-inspiring space is filled with the objects, costumes and ephemera she used to build her uncanny tableaus, as well as works of art made by fellow artists whom she called friends. You can enter her world over on The World of Interiors website.

Rego has never been in higher demand, and at present there is a major exhibition at the Munch Museum in Oslo, as well as a Hayward Touring show that focuses on her print practice and its relationship to literature (particularly fairytales and folk lore). It runs at Newlands House Gallery in Petworth, Sussex, until 6 September.

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Recent writings

I visited the home of Michael Dean for The World of Interiors (in the May issue, and online). The Turner Prize nominee spans poetry, sculpture, painting and book making, so while not strictly a printmaker, there are many shared affinities.

One from the archive – Liorah Tchiprout cites Rego as a key influence in her practice, and it’s easy to see why. The artist works across printmaking and painting, using dolls to create the scenes she depicts. I visited her live-work studio in 2024.

Upcoming events

Postponed from last month (!) I’ll be speaking with Alexandra Steinacker-Clark on 10 June at Art’Otel in Hoxton, London. We will be talking about both our books (Alex’s Working in Art is out now), building a career in the arts, and the changes in the print market. Get your free ticket here and drop us a line on Instagram with any burning questions you want answered.

One amazing work

Rego’s subversive take on childhood innocence is surprisingly attuned to the darkness one usually finds lurking within. Her famed ‘Nursery Rhymes’ series marked a breakthrough in her etching practice, thanks to the efforts of printer Paul Coldwell at Culford Press, and his wife Charlotte Hodes (a former Slade student of Rego) who hand-coloured several of the impressions.

Hey diddle diddle is an exemplar in this portfolio. The star-spattered sky is a technical feat in and of itself, revealing Rego’s fascination with the possibilities of aquatint. The mysterious figure of a young girl is in-keeping with the artist’s preference for centring female protagonists, and the jovial scene is undercut by her dark, anonymous face and the ridiculous – but nevertheless disquieting – anthropomorphised crockery that runs across the bottom right hand of the composition.

Coldwell recalls (in this fantastic account available online) how content Rego seemed while engaging in stages of stop-out and aquatint, carefully considering the layers that would produce her shadowy scenes, and often humming to herself. She undertook this project shortly after the death of her husband, and while the grief caused her to stall while creating monumental canvas works, printmaking seemed to set her free.

This work is on show at Newlands House Gallery, among others from her literary series.

Exhibitions I’ve got my eye on

‘Virginia Woolf and the Hogarth Press’ at Charleston in Firle (until 6 September) celebrates the legacy of this innovative printing press founded by the Bloomsbury Group (and which started at Charleston farm house’s kitchen table). Many covers were rather crude woodblocks, and editions of prints by the likes of Roger Fry were issued.

‘James McNeill Whistler’ at Tate Britain (until 27 September) takes in the career of this cosmopolitan artist, who was fascinated by the language of Japanese ukiyo-e prints (and a major proponent of the Japonisme that swept 19th-century Europe). He was also a seasoned etcher, and you can see both his influences and executions in this major show.

‘Beyond Impressionism: Printmaking from Manet to Picasso’ (until 13 September) at The Holburne Museum in Bath also focuses on the Parisian set, who turned to printmaking amid the lithographic boom of the Belle Époque and beyond.

‘The Art & Craft of Print’ at Mottisfont in Hampshire (until 1 November) showcases works by contemporary printmakers including Angie Lewin, Mark Hearld, Emily Sutton.

My must-read

‘Paula Rego: Story Line’ by Nick Willing was published to coincide with a recent exhibition at Victoria Miro in London. It tells the story of her life through her pictures, with personal recollections from his childhood.

Lasting impressions

Thin Ice Press is York’s centre for print, which hosts workshops, clubs and special events, spanning everything from risograph to linocut. It will host the first ‘York Wayzgoose’ this summer (6-8 August), a three-day gathering celebrating the art of printmaking, traditional and contemporary practice, research and ideas.

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In times of sadness I always find my way back to the water. The endless expanse afforded by a shoreline gives a sense of perspective, and the ceaseless rhythms of the tide are a reminder that everything is ultimately cyclical.

These thoughts were at the forefront of my mind when I arrived in Venice last week, for the 61st edition of the Art Biennale.

It is always a challenge to reflect on the opening week. The sheer scale of the event is such that it is beyond impossible to see everything on offer. The gradual spread of national pavilions beyond the Giardini and Arsenale into the streets of this historic water-logged city is now met with even more ‘collateral’ shows and other exhibitions, with news of the hottest ticket quickly spreading through WhatsApp groups, social media and word-of-mouth.

Usually, there is a sense of buoyancy to be found among the endless inaugurations, performances, party invitations and queues. This year however, the word I’ve settled on is ‘mournful’.

Even before this edition began, anticipation was marred by the untimely death of curator Koyo Kouoh, and German representative artist Henrike Naumann. The entire jury (historically responsible for awarding prizes) also quit just days before the opening, in defiance of the return of pavilions representing Russia and Israel. Even the title of the Biennale, ‘In Minor Keys’, has shades of melancholy.

I witnessed multiple protests between apocalyptic rain showers, including Pussy Riot and the Ukranian feminist group Femen, outside of Russia’s presentation. A march in solidarity with Palestine also called for an Israeli boycott, amid chants of ‘no art washing’. To see these actions unfold whilst some attempt to ignore or deny the political nature of art is confounding.

To say that the atmosphere was fraught is something of an understatement, but the act of mourning is as much to do with collective care and commemoration as it is to do grief, and I found plentiful examples that gave me a sense of hope.

Fiona Pardington’s photographic ode to extinct and endangered birds (or manu as they are referred to in Māori culture) were beautiful to behold in the New Zealand pavilion, which marked my first stop on a 30,000-steps-a-day journey through the centre of the city.

Once inside the Giardini I found that Lubaina Himid’s paintings in the British Pavilion contended with notions of belonging, and while some described them as awkward or uncomfortable, I found them to be a testament to the resilience of human nature and the occasional absurdities associated with following the ‘right’ path. She told me too, that she felt right at home in the pavilion’s architecture, as it reminded her of the regional museums she exhibited at early in her career.

The Canada Pavilion meanwhile, was turned into a hot house by Abbas Akhavan, where rare lilies cultivated by Kew Gardens and the Padua Botanical Garden that will grow over the course of the exhibition run. The artist told me that while installing, one of the plants died, and the horticulturist wept for the loss of it.

Much was made of the Florentina Holzinger’s vision of an aquatic dystopia in the Austrian Pavilion, but I had little stomach for it, and was far more content enjoying Alvar Barrington’s brightly painted haulage truck that was parked outside (he drove it all the way from London in an epic road trip).

In the Arsenale, Sara Flores became the first indigenous artist to represent Peru, with an array of works using the ancestral visual language of kené. This matrilineal process involves both Flores and her daughters, with any profits from the sale of her work (she is repped by major galleries) used to support environmental activism in the Amazon, where she lives. Further on, within the grounds, an elegant sculpture by Wangechi Mutu imagined a futuristic siren, as if she had just emerged from the depths. As rainfall coalesced around her elegant fins, I could imagine being called back to the ocean with her.

As for the main exhibitions, it was the lighter spirit of Kouoh’s Giardini offering that truly enamoured me. A favourite was the fluttering flags by Japanese Canadian artist Alexa Kumiko Hatanaka that marked the entrance path (just as the sun finally emerged). These led to her far larger textile-and-paper works that combine the art of gyotaku (prints made by inking the body of a fish to mark a catch) with linocuts that reference Inuit artistry and her own community practice in the Arctic region.

An unexpected dive into the Somalian pavilion, housed on the edge of the lagoon and the bustling Via Garibaldi, stopped me in my tracks. A staged living room conceived by poet Warsan Shire, complete with a packed suitcase and a tray of traditional sweets, was accompanied by recorded accounts of life as an ‘immigrant other’. It was heightened by the presence of a Venetian flag unfurled outside, and framed in the window.

I did not expect my visit to Fonadzione Prada to be among my favourites from the trip, and I had no idea that the Arthur Jafa and Richard Prince double bill was informed by the former’s admiration for the latter. Both contend with the appropriation of pre-existing imagery (often controversially so), and what struck me is that conversations concerning how visual culture is repeated, remixed and reclaimed have been largely replaced by fears surrounding AI-generated slop, which is less cut-and-paste and more Frankenstein’s monster.

A moment, too, for Love is the Message, the Message is Death (Jafa, 2017) – surely the greatest video work of the 21st century (and perhaps the best artwork of any kind).

Two incredible painting shows by Matthew Wong and Michael Armitage took me through quiet, absent interiors, Impressionist references and in the case of Armitage, intimacy, folk tales and histories of violence.

It was another piece of film that rounded off my final day on the archipelago. Gabrielle Goliath, the South African artist banned from her own pavilion, staged a rendition of Elegy at Chiesa di Sant’Antonin. Her ongoing choral work commemorates individual victims of femicide, genocide and hate crimes, from South Africa to Namibia to Gaza.

As I left the church and pushed along the crowds, the reverberations of the city felt stronger than ever. For hundreds of years artists have arrived here to take part in cultural, commercial and community exchange, and these histories are embedded in the damp stones, crumbling palazzos and rising waterways – difficult to navigate and impossibly romantic.

Whether scorched by the sun, soaked by the storms or haunted by the eerie night-time silence, I will always be called back to Venice. It seems almost unreal to modern eyes, and yet is bizarrely fitting as a backdrop for challenging and controversial contemporary art.

Even amid the climate crisis, the onslaught of daily tourists and the arrival of billionaire yachts, the city finds a way to live on. It has and always will hold a strange place in my heart.

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Today is the day! After three long years, The Story of Printmaking is finally hitting shelves across the UK and the USA.

This has been a massive and exciting undertaking, which has tested my mettle as a journalist, picture researcher and printmaker.

I will be taking part in various events and talks in the coming weeks and months, including London Original Print Fair where I’ll be chatting about the book to Chloë Ashby, and I’ll be in conversation with Alexandra Steinacker-Clark, discussing the print market and my career as an arts writer, at art’otel in Hoxton. Both take place on 15 May (because I’m mad).

Beginning in ancient East Asia and travelling through Renaissance Europe, revolutionary Mexico, and post-Apartheid South Africa, these ten chapters celebrate the interconnected nature of the printed image and its multiple histories, while illuminating the lesser-known players who have been deliberately or erroneously overlooked.

Whether formed by slicing linoleum or plunging plates into acid, then distributed via bound books or pasted posters, the print has not just replicated the world, it has shaped it.

Happy reading!

Holly x

Who sends a postcard these days? Not many of us it seems, but I wanted a way to share some of the stories I often collect while on my travels as an arts journalist.

On these trips, I usually absorb an obscene amount of information in a very short time, thanks to all the incredible experts I get to meet. Sadly, lots of this information never makes it into the ensuing article, so this is a great place to spread the word. Rest assured, just like a real postcard these are brief accounts that won’t be bombarding your inbox.

And so…

I recently travelled to the French Riviera with the Royal Academy of Arts, ahead of the exhibition ‘Painting the French Riviera’, which opens in October. It focuses on depictions of the sea along this fabled coastline, and is curated by Ann Dumas, who was our expert guide.

This whistle-stop tour began in Nice, where we visited Auguste Renoir’s house (now a museum) where the scent of orange blossom fills the air and a view over the hillside gives you a sense of the many landscapes he loved to paint.

He moved to this farmstead in 1907, but being a man of bourgeois tastes, eventually built a grander villa only a few metres away. He never painted the latter though, as it didn’t fit into his idealised image of rustic charm. However, he did build a special light-filled studio in the grounds, where he painted until his death.

Heading onto the Musée Matisse, the entrance gallery is dominated not only by the artist’s fluid, charismatic cut-outs, but a cast of Kouros, an Ancient Greek statue that was uncovered in the Sanctuary of Apollo at Delphi. It is an exceptional figure, with fluid lines and a fabulous distillation of the flesh that so heavily informs the language of modernism, that you have to wonder if these latter artists really invented anything at all.

There are parallels with this brevity of line in an array of etchings Matisse created in the 1920s while going through a ‘crisis of painting’. He focuses entirely on the outline of the female form, producing the largest amount of prints in his career.

Antibes was the next stop, where a former castle that once housed Picasso’s studio is now a museum dedicated to his work. The artist adored this once-overlooked town, which was so fortified by a perimeter wall that it prevented Napoleon from landing during his exile. Picasso first visited at the invitation of printmaker Louis Fort, who printed his earliest etching The Frugal Repast (1904-13).

Among my favourite works on show were a wall of wonderful plates, many of which feature meals one must imagine the artist enjoyed eating (grilled fish and sausages are a recurring theme). Also, a pair of incongruous classical casts (emulating the originals in the Louvre) that flank a jovial triptych of satyrs.

However, I was most taken by a beautiful lithograph, The Woman with a Hair Net (Woman with Green Hair) (1949-56) which depicts Picasso’s young partner and fellow artist Françoise Gilot, who stayed with him in Antibes on multiple occasions. It features glorious textural detailing across the face, and a semi-translucent black key that only partly obscures a layer of ochre pattern-work across the chest.

A quick jaunt around the old town revealed some truly excellent tropical planting (I am an amateur yet enthusiastic gardener), particularly around the Commune Libre du Safranier, a small and historic residential area where inhabitants celebrate and preserve local pastimes and festivities.

Not far away in Le Cannet lies the Musée Bonnard, which has the strongest links to the world of printmaking thanks to the artist’s work as a poster illustrator. Most famous is his advert for France-Champagne, which features an explosion of bottled froth reminiscent of Hokusai’s Great Wave.

On display was a beautiful folding screen featuring lithographs depicting everyday Parisian life. It also alludes to the compositional flatness of ukiyo-e prints (as well as their fashion for urban scenes), as does a grand work on canvas that shows something of an imagined view over the town of Le Cannet (pictured up top). The landscape structure closely resembles the parting clouds found in works by Hokusai and Hiroshige.

Finally landing in Saint-Tropez, a chance to see Signac’s house did not disappoint (but the property remains explicitly private). The Neo-Impressionist made his own way to the port by boat, gaining the approval of local fishermen, and he always retained a strong link to the sea. Like so many artists of the period, he worked with the publisher and dealer Ambroise Vollard to produce lithographic portfolios to better disseminate his work, including waterside depictions of the seaside town.

Seeing this famed resort on the cusp of tourist season (and looking beyond the expanses of the ocean, from the confines of Signac’s spectacular secret studio) one does indeed get a sense of why artists flocked to the region. The light is astonishingly bright, the coastline magnificent, and back then at least, it was the perfect place for the more solitary soul.

À bientôt!

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A few weeks ago I made a short-but-sweet trip to Mexico City, to take in the sights and sounds of what were once Frida Kahlo’s surroundings. The visit was tied to a show opening in a few months at Tate Modern, and while it focused on the artist’s painting practice, there were print connections to be found.

For example, Kahlo was an avid collector of both art and objects, and took a pile of metal-cut prints designed by José Guadalupe Posada when she travelled to New York to stave off her home sickness (read more about the famed La Catrina further down). Rivera’s lithograph of Kahlo is also a real beauty. It is on show at the Museo de Arte Moderno, which features some fabulous lino and woodcuts by other significant Mexican artists such as Leopoldo Méndez and Alfredo Zalce.

You can read more on these subjects in Chapter 7 of my book, or head over to Artnet News right now to read an exclusive extract.

The Story of Printmaking will finally be on shelves from 28 April, but you can still pre-order below, to make sure your copy is hot off the press!

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Upcoming events

I will be speaking with Hettie Judah about The Story of Printmaking at the National Gallery Supporter’s House on 27 April. Her new book How to Enter the Art World After… is an eye-opening look at the challenges faced in the industry. Naturally, there’s more than a few affinities in our areas of focus!

Up next, I am having a conversation about the book with Chloë Ashby, as part of the London Original Print Fair talks programme. This is free for all ticket holders, and will take place on 15 May at 2pm.

Recent writings

I wrote about the beautiful prints of Poppy Jones, who uses vintage suedes and silks to produce surfaces for her haunting lithographic still lifes, which she hand finishes in watercolour. This story appears in the May issue of The World of Interiors, which is available now.

I reviewed Reading Pictures: A History of Illustration for Literary Review last month. Written by academic DB Dowd, it takes a sweeping look at the development of the art form and has some crossover with my own book – notably the illustrated treasures of the Mogao Caves and the aesthetic artistry of fin de siècle lithographic posters.

One amazing work

The image of a skeleton wearing a bonnet – affectionately known as ‘La Catrina’ – has come to symbolise a form of vernacular cultural identity known as mexicanidad, which renounces colonial Spanish influences and embraces indigenous tradition to articulate a distinct form of ‘Mexicanness’. It was designed by José Guadalupe Posada, a gifted illustrator turned cult hero whose process of making relief metal-cuts for publisher Antonio Vanegas Arroyo is still shrouded in mystery.

The artist popularised the eye-catching calaveras (skeletons) motifs that were used in Arroyo’s cheap broadsides. These colourful one-pagers told salacious stories of disaster and corruption, and could be bought on every street corner by the turn of the 20th century. Their throwaway nature meant that printing blocks were often reorganised and even repurposed, to feature in new stories.

Although he died in relative obscurity, Posada’s images lived on and became important symbols of revolutionary activity, thanks in no small part to the influence of Los Tres Grandes (the Big Three) Mexican muralists, who rescued his name from obscurity. The mythology surrounding Posada and his revolutionary leanings informed the foundational principles of the Taller de Gráfica Popular (TGP) – an influential, political printshop which nurtured artists from Mexico and further afield.

‘La Catrina’ is a much beloved yet darkly humorous take on the affectations of the bourgeois or ‘dapper’ Mexicans who adopted European airs. This figure wears an elaborate feathered – and obviously foreign – bonnet, as well as a wide grin. She features in hundreds of broadsides, and can now be found on everything from coffee mugs to T-shirts. To cement her position in Mexican culture, Rivera included her in the mural Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in Alameda Park (1948) alongside great figures from across Mexican history.

Exhibitions I’ve got my eye on

It’s a big month for the New York print world, with the pre-eminent International Fine Print Dealers Association Fair (IFPDA) taking place at the Armory on Park Avenue, 9-12 April. Expect big names from the likes of ULAE, Pace Prints, Gemini G.E.L.

The Brooklyn Fine Art Print Fair runs over the same dates for its second edition, with a focus on contemporary artists at super-accessible price points.

Meanwhile, ‘America Today: Voices in Contemporary Print’ (24 April – 25 July) opens at the Print Center in Philadelphia. It highlights the work of six ‘mission-driven’ workshops, from Crow’s Shadow Institute of the Arts which supports Native American practitioners, to Self Help Graphics & Art, which nurtures Chicana/o and Latinx artists. The Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop (covered in a previous newsletter) also features.

My must-read

Revolution on Paper: Mexican Prints 1910-1960 is a great primer for anyone interested in Mexican printmaking. It was published to coincide with an exhibition at the British Museum, and features expert essays from Dawn Ades and Alison McClean, and a timeline covering major artistic, cultural and political events. Recognisable names include Posada, Zalce, Méndez and Elizabeth Catlett.

Lasting impressions

Jake Garfield is an artist who has been a huge supporter of my work on The Story of Printmaking. He is a tutor at the Royal Drawing School (among others) and invited me to speak about my research with his students at the Royal Academy a few years back.

Garfield recently opened an exhibition at Oliver Projects Gallery, with Bobbye Fermie. ‘Man and Woman in Garden’ features a range of works on paper spanning printmaking, drawing, paint and cut-outs, including several new collaborative works. The show runs until 25 April in East Dulwich.

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I have finally got my hands on a real, physical copy of my book The Story of Printmaking. It feels utterly surreal after three years of work, but I couldn’t be happier to start sharing it with people far and wide – just try and stop me!

The cover features Japanese abstractionist Saburo Hasegawa, ukiyo-e master Utamaro, Georgian satirist James Gillray, Impressionist giant Mary Cassatt and a final, stunning multicoloured relief etching by William Blake. You can read more about his nigh-on mythical printmaking practices below.

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Recent writings

William Caxton ignited a cultural revolution when he introduced the printing press to England in 1476. I wrote about his legacy on the occasion of a new exhibition at Senate House Library (featuring a set of seriously snazzy scissors).

This feature for Ocula discusses the subversive power of latex within contemporary art. Cult magazines such as Atomage (aha, there’s the print connection!) shaped fashion, film and popular culture with its fetishistic depictions. Louise Bourgeoise, Eva Hesse, Leigh Bowery and Wong Ping all get a name check.

A lesser-known revolutionary comes in the form of Gwyneth Alban Davis, a self-styled printmaker who inspired the establishment of the Artlab Contemporary Print Studios. I learned more about her life for a piece published back in November.

One amazing work

William Blake’s printmaking seems to hail from another world. His use of colour, Biblical and allegorical subjects, and exquisite, looping mirror writing have fascinated scholars and master printmakers alike.

Research into the technicalities of his practice is still ongoing today, but what we do know is that he worked from his Soho studio with the aid of his wife Catherine, developing a form of ‘relief etching’ whereby stop-out varnish was used on a copper plate. Building a wax border around its edge, the plate was then covered in nitric acid so it would eat away at unmarked areas, thus creating a relief.

Rather than creating traditional editions, Blake applied mixes of coloured inks with a brush or dabber, and added watercolour to impressions, thus producing unique prints that emulated the illuminated manuscripts he so coveted. Leaning against the pillars… is a fantastic example of both form, palette and exquisite mirror writing.

You can see Blake’s prints as part of a major exhibition at the National Museum of Ireland (16 April - 19 July).

Exhibitions I’ve got my eye on

‘Robert Rauschenberg and the News’ at The New School in New York (until Jan 4, 2027) presents silkscreen prints that survey the pop artist’s engagement with the political climate of the USA, including civil rights, environmental activism and anti-war demonstrations.

‘Beatriz González’ at the Barbican (until 10 May) in London is an eye-opening retrospective of one of Columbia’s most celebrated artists. Alongside her enormous painting oeuvre are screen-printed works on paper and textiles, and a wonderful large-scale linocut.

‘The Location of Lines: The Prints of Sol LeWitt’ at Cristea Robert Gallery in London (6 March – 16 April) showcases an array of techniques from woodblock to etching, from a minimalist powerhouse better known for his crisp, colourful wall-based works.

‘Print Festival 2026’ kicks off at Sunny Mills in Leeds (7 – 8 March) with a whole host of stalls and activities including a demo from Ironbridge Fine Arts and a show of works from Leeds Arts University illustration students.

My must-read

Prints and Their Makers by Phil Sanders (published by Princeton Architectural Press) is a wonderful account of contemporary artists and their process, written by a master printer who has worked at revered studios such as Universal Limited Artist Editions (ULAE) and the Robert Blackburn Printmaking Workshop.

Lasting impressions

The Curwen Print Study Centre in Suffolk has an array of excellent open access courses run by expert printmakers. Upcoming is a linocut masterclass led by Paul Catherall (12 – 13 March) and an introduction to woodcut (11 March). They even run a three-term certificate in fine art printmaking!

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As the Year of the Fire Horse approaches, I’m thinking about the ancient tradition of nien hua (New Year prints). These depictions of door guardians and auspicious emblems are destroyed and re-installed in many East Asian households on an annual basis, to ensure protection and bring good luck. Some are even set alight, so that the spirits held within might rejoin the celestial plane via plumes of smoke.

Below, you can read more about an enigmatic woodcut of the ferocious demon-quelling deity Zhong Kui, which features in chapter one of my book.

Recent writings

Down at Pitzhanger Manor in Ealing, I took a peek at the epic impressions produced by Howard Hodgkin throughout his decades-long career, which have been installed among John Soane’s exceptional architecture (you can catch the show until 8 March).

I’ve also been considering the motif of the unicorn in art, which includes the Peregrinatio in Terram Sanctam (1486). The world’s first illustrated travel book features a crowd of woodcut creatures designed by Dutch printer Erhard Reuwich, back when a mystical horned horse was believed to be as real as a crocodile or camel.

Here’s a piece from the archive. This feature on the beautiful printed pattern books produced by Japanese artist Furuya Kōrin – a master of the Neo-Rinpa style – made the cover of The World of Interiors in October 2024. It was my debut issue as Contributing Arts Editor.

One amazing work

This wonderful depiction of Zhong Kui features many of the hallmarks associated with the famed demon slayer. Armed and dangerous, he is alert to threats thanks to his magical hat that features tassels designed to detect trouble. Note the bat flying above his left shoulder. This auspicious emblem is often included in nien hua, as its Chinese name (fú) is a homophone for ‘blessing’.

Although pictures of door guardians predate printmaking, it was the woodblock that made their mass dissemination possible. As the writer Meng Yuanlao recalled in his memoir of cosmopolitan life, The Eastern Capital: A Dream of Splendour (1147): ‘When the New Year nears, street markets all print and sell pictures of door guardians, Zhong Kui, lions and tigers, as well as cut paper designs using gold and coloured papers to hang or paste on the door. This market is very large and thriving.’

Despite this record, most extant prints only date back as far as the Ming period (1368-1411). This version is dated much later, and combines the lively figuration of modern Chinese imagery with potent, age-old symbolism.

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Exhibitions I’ve got my eye on

‘Making Waves: The Art of Japanese Woodblock Print’ at York Art Gallery (28 February – 30 August) celebrates ukiyo-e masters such as Hiroshige, Hokusai and Utamaro and features never-before exhibited pieces from the collection.

‘Deep Cuts: Block Printing Across Cultures’ at LACMA (until 13 September) traces relief printing across history and cultures, from Indian printed textiles to German Expressionist woodblocks, and includes a collaboration with LA-based Block Shop.

‘Lasting Impressions: Women Printmakers 1900 – Now’ is a free display at the V&A (until 27 September), showcasing 25 figures who have turned to print as a form of self expression, from Käthe Kollwitz to Faith Ringgold.

Lasting impressions

The Only Thing That Lasts: An Oral History of Robert Blackburn’s Printmaking Workshop, documents the work of Blackburn and the history of his New York community workshop. This homage to the influential African American printmaker features a range of interviews with individuals he tutored and nurtured, many of whom felt excluded elsewhere due to their nationality, race, politics or gender. blackburnoralhistoryproject.org

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It has been over four years since I first sat down to write my book proposal for The Story of Printmaking. Since then, I’ve visited libraries, combed archives, explored exhibitions, interviewed experts and returned to the print studio for the first time since art school (getting my hands very dirty in the process).

This newsletter is designed to complement the book, sharing not only updates related to its release this April, but the knowledge and network I have accumulated and developed along the way.

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From the ancient East Asian empresses who used print to consolidate their rule, to etching’s origins in armour making and the influence of Japanese woodblocks on the aesthetics of the Parisian poster boom, this is a chance for me to share even more information that may – or may not – have made it to the final 60,000-word edit.

Once a month I will be rounding up interesting exhibitions and events, sharing recent writing, shining a spotlight on an exceptional print, and more tidbits besides.

Here’s a little taste:

Upcoming events

I will be speaking as part of the Supporters’ House Salon on print culture at the National Gallery on 4 February, to coincide with the current exhibition Wright of Derby: From the Shadows. You can find out more about this members-only event here.

Recent writing

Read more about Joseph Wright of Derby and his love of the mezzotint on The World of Interiors website…

…and while you’re there you can read this other piece on the joy of Norwegian wintry woodcuts, which was my last commission of 2026!

One lasting impression

Adrian Holmes has released his mokuhanga (contemporary Japanese woodblock) workshop dates for 2026. He’s an incredible and very patient teacher, whether you’re completely new to this form of printmaking, or more experienced. Find out more and book your place here.