The word ‘lithography’ comes from the Greek words, ‘litho’ meaning ‘stone’ and ‘graphein’ meaning to ‘write or draw’. The term is still used widely to denote commercial offset printing even though the modern process does not involve printing on stone anymore. Aloys Senefelder invented the process in 1798 and although he lived to see print shops using his techniques on stone for commercial printing all over the world, he could not have imagined that the creation of photography in 1870, or the use of metal plates replacing the much heavier and more fragile stones, changing printing forever. The final transformation of the printing press involved forming the metal plate onto the shape of a roller, enabling the printing of an image in a continuous motion. When modern offset printing was born, the stones lost all of their commercial value overnight. This gave rise to a new use for the old system. As early as 1860, some artists began experimenting with the technique. Daumier’s famous newspaper caricatures were both commercial and artistic. Delacroix and Manet created book illustrations and Goya produced a wonderful lithographic series that parallels his genius in etching.

The partnership between the artist and the printer cannot be underestimated. Delacroix’s lithographs were signed, ‘Delacroix del, lith de Motte,’ meaning, “drawn by Delacroix, lithographed by Motte”. Without the printer’s artistic and technical ability to execute an artist’s drawing, there would be no tradition of stone lithography. Artists traveled from all over the world to Paris in the early 1900’s to print with the great names of the printing world such as Mourlot, Desjobert, and Durassier.  During this flowering of stone lithography as an art form, Toulouse-Lautrec was a rare breed of artist-printer. He created and invented many techniques that are used to this day in color lithography. Unlike Toulouse-Lautrec, most artists left the technical execution up to the master printer.

The rapport between artist and printer is essential. Whereas the artist focuses on the image itself, the printer focuses on the sequence of printing the design stone and the color stones, always keeping in mind their relative strengths and transparencies. Colors are mixed at the moment of printing. Sometimes I had in mind a particular yellow. The printer would then mix a certain yellow that I described, but it could still be corrected, for example to make it stronger or colder. He might respond by saying, “Don’t forget, later on you are going to be using a red that will get you the orange that you want.” Most artists would struggle to hold the sequence of the many, many steps in their heads and still visualize the finished image. Once the color is on, there is no going back, you cannot erase or paint over it like you would with an oil painting.  Of course you could always add more and more colors to try to correct something, but not only would you run the risk of it becoming like mud, but each color represents an added cost. That is why the number of colors is always mentioned on a Certificate of Authenticity. If you see a litho that looks as though it has many colors but the certificate states that it only has 6, you know that artist and printer used their skills of choosing transparent colors overlapping one another to create the illusion of a rich and full colored image. Traditionally the printer always deferred to the artist, but the printer also used his diplomatic skills to guide the artist in the right direction so that they could both be proud of the final result. Even temperamental artists such as Whistler or Picasso knew the absolute importance of placing their work in the hands of a master printer.

It is not only the printer but also the selection of the stones which is important. The best are limestone, found in just one valley in Bavaria. Most of them have been quarried out. The organic quality of each stone makes each one unique, with its own quirks and sensitivities, but they can also be unpredictable. One summer Switzerland had its hottest summer in decades and the stones did not like it! The stones absorbed ink in such a way that I almost lost two lithos, as the designs became much too strong too early. Happily they turned out to be two of my most successful lithos, The Dragon Collector and The Strawberry Collector. Another litho, The Creation, was affected by the surface of the stone. It had some irregularity; possibly a quartz spur. If you look at The Creation, the woman has a piece of jewelry on her back. That was placed there to mirror the quartz irregularity. In the end the design was better with the jewelry. So in that case the stone helped to create a better final image.  Mayan Spring was also created with the help of a temperamental stone. I had in mind a smooth sky for this particular litho. But for some reason the stone began to break down and create a texture. We had to stop printing and quickly decide what to do. Our decision was to throw a some acid on to the stone and create clouds in the sky. This is one example of where the master printer’s skill was really appreciated. If he got it wrong, the whole edition would have been lost. It worked, and again, the image was better for it. As many of my collectors know, I love using silver and gold ink on my images, two examples being The Golden Serpent and The Garden. To print the gold ink on top of the black ink, the climate has to be perfect. If there is too much humidity, heat, or even cold, the black will either not accept the gold ink or it will absorb too much, creating a mud like effect. Gold and silver inks are used at the very end of the printing of an edition. This was always a tense time, after two hard weeks of printing, when one final printing of color could have endangered the whole edition. With all the drama and hard work, the stones are still like old friends, and it is a unique experience to have friends over 160 million years old.