In WAJ's Five Questions/Five Artworks, Denis Clavreul Interviews Sherrie York
Colorado Printmaker Talks Tactile Romance And Her Role As A Witness To Nature
EDITOR'S NOTE: When Wildlife Art Journal magazine launched Five Questions/Five Artworks three years ago, we were putting it in the hands of artists and knew not where it would go. Intended to be the progressive art conversation that never ends, it is a series, foremost, about nature artists interviewing other nature artists. Here is its lineage to date: Susan Fox (US) -Andrew Denman (US) -Julie T. Chapman (US)-Simon Gudgeon (UK) -Jonathan Sainsbury (UK) -Sam MacDonald (UK)-Harriet Mead (UK) -Esther Tyson (UK)-Wolfgang Weber (Germany)-Juan Ravela (Spain)- Denis Clavreul (France). There’s a lot of collective hard-won wisdom and knowing residing in those artists.
With this installment, Five Questions/Five Artworks returns to North America with Clavreul having a chat with Colorado printmaker Sherrie York. Enjoy.
By Denis Clavreul
Sherrie York is a watercolorist and a “printmaker”. For the latter—linocuts and woodcuts—she is the old-fashioned kind, who believes in low editions to maintain fidelity of the work and its appeal to collectors who do not wish to purchase lithographs churned out by the thousands. When it comes to sources of inspiration, York invokes names like Albrecht Dürer and Rembrandt. She also mentions an observation from Vincent van Gogh: "The act of printing has always seemed to me a miracle, just such a miracle as the growing up of a tiny seed of grain to an ear-- an everyday miracle, even the greater because it happens everyday. One drawing is sown on the stone or the etching plate, and a harvest is reaped from it."
York makes her home in Salida, a heavenly outost within sight of the Sangre de Christos, a spur subrange of the Colorado Rockies. “I would describe my work as a response to the natural world I live in,” she says. Born in Los Angeles, her family moved into the interior of the American West when she was a young girl.
During an interview with the online art market site, Printsy, York was asked what drew her to the woodcut method. “It’s satisfying to see a drying rack full of successful images, but the act of carving is really what it’s all about for me,” she said. “Some years ago a well-known bronze artist suggested (tentatively, because he ‘didn’t want the competition’) that I was at heart a sculptor. At the time the idea filled me with terror, but I think now that he recognized a certain ‘tactile romance,’ a need to manipulate surfaces.”
She obviously managed to overcome her fear, replacing it with imagery that is known for its strong design and composition. Recently, she won praise for what she calls "The Underfoot Series." York has been involved with the Artists for Nature Foundation, has been an artist in residence at Acadia National Park, and her illustrated field journals have been on display at the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science.
DENIS CLAVREUL: Why nature and wildlife? It's a big and very general question, but it's always interesting to know if something special influenced your sensibility. Did you share something special related to nature with your family or other people? Did you meet artists who strongly influenced you?
SHERRIE YORK: Chickens. I blame it all on chickens and a man named Richard. Oh, and a children’s book published ten years before I was born. I grew up in the American suburbs, and I think it’s fair to say my family didn’t have any particular interest in nature or the outdoors, although we did go camping from time to time.
When I was nine years old a neighbor gave me an old copy of Nature Notebook, a 'boy’s book' written and illustrated by Robert Candy. In it a father describes a fishing trip with his young son– the illustrations on each page reflected some aspect of their day in a format that combined wildlife field guide and woods lore. When they discovered one of their canoe paddles had been chewed by porcupines, for example, the illustrations were about the natural history of porcupines and how to repair a split paddle. Descriptions of their fishing efforts were accompanied by illustrations of fish identification, fly-fishing techniques, and instructions for cleaning and cooking their catch.
I was fascinated by the knowledge and authentic experience expressed in that book, and the idea of lives so entwined with nature. I spent hours laying down on the floor, lost in the pages of that book and wondering what such a life might be like. Even so, I did not set out to be either an artist or a naturalist. I don’t think I realized people actually did that sort of thing for a living! My degree is in education– I trained to be a teacher. But my first year in college I enrolled in a drawing class “just for fun.”
Our professor, Richard Wiegmann, took us to his neighbor’s yard to draw chickens and to the zoo to draw primates and I was hooked on the idea of drawings as a record of authentic experience. Richard’s aesthetic sense, his interest in nature as subject matter, and even his sense of humor were all a huge influence. (A sense of humor was especially important when he discovered I had “borrowed” live mice from the science department to use as models and was keeping them in the art building.) So the seeds were planted early, but it took a very long time for them to bloom. I never seriously considered an art career until much later.
CLAVREUL: Like me, you are not 'only' an artist: you are also a good illustrator. You've been involved for many years with conservation organizations and environmental education. How do you think and feel about that kind of life, as an "artist involved in the society"?
YORK: For me, the most rewarding aspect of working with conservation and education circles back to stories. Conservationists feel passionate about a particular environmental story: maybe it’s resource management, protection of endangered species, restoration of habitat, climate change, or taking a fishing trip with a child. Working with many different people actively involved in environmental education projects both in the United States and around the world has allowed me to learn their stories and to use them to broaden my own understanding. I enjoy being able to support the efforts and energies of these people with my skills as an illustrator and educator.
In return, their projects teach me new information and allow me to explore new ideas and places. I take this experience with me, both in the field and in the studio, and use its influence to tell my own stories or to interpret the larger story in my own way. But each of these efforts–art, illustration, education– requires different mental energies, different approaches, and I do find it difficult to create a balance sometimes.
CLAVREUL: Could you talk about your main technique—relief printing? When and why did you feel comfortable and especially creative with that kind of technique? I could say that we have not, in France, wildlife artists who use that kind of technique (very graphic and decorative). I don't know why. Could you consider that there are some special influences in the US Art story which "promote" that kind of technique? Sometimes I think that, maybe, there is a connection with the art of native peoples.
YORK: I took a printmaking class in college (back to Richard again) and loved everything about etching, but after school I no longer had access to an intaglio press or a way to manage all the chemicals that were part of the process at that time. Later I met artists like you who were working in the field, and some local painters whose work I really admired, so I turned my attention to more manageable (and portable) drawing and painting techniques. I also started doing more illustration work and got involved with several non-profit organizations so printmaking fell by the wayside.
The urge to make prints remained, however, and I realized that relief printing was something I could do with very little equipment and very little space: some ink, some paper, a spoon and my kitchen table. I did a few experiments and enjoyed the process… which led to a few more experiments… and a few more. I’ve recently started to explore the potential of relief printing using a press, but for the most part I’m still using a baren and spoon to produce my prints. [For an explanation of how York approaches the process, click here.
It’s funny… I never thought of relief printmaking having a relationship with native American art. The history most familiar to me is decidedly 'old world,' filled with artists like Durer and Rembrandt. But just today a received a nice letter from a young native American woman in art school who is interested in relief printing to express the meaning of landscape and memory in her culture. I’m very much looking forward to corresponding with her!
"More recently in the story of art in the Americas and related specifically to woodcuts and linocuts was the expression of the Arts and Crafts movement in the early 1900s. Here in the US it was interpreted as 'Craftsman'style, probably most widely recognized in the work of architect Frank Lloyd Wright and furniture craftsman Gustav Stickley.'
Definitely I can see a parallel with the graphic sensibilities of 'new world' native peoples– the woodcarvings of the Inuit and the textile weavings of the Navajo come immediately to mind. Of course these ancient cultures also have deep stories reflecting their strong ties to the land. My own heritage has that old world/new world influence: solid Anglo-European stock on one side and Mexico-Central American on the other. Mexico, too, has a bold and graphic aesthetic. You’ve given me some great topics to explore further!
More recently in the story of art in the Americas, though, and related specifically to woodcuts and linocuts, was the expression of the Arts and Crafts movement in the early 1900s. Here in the United States it was interpreted as 'Craftsman' style, probably most widely recognized in the work of architect Frank Lloyd Wright and furniture craftsman Gustav Stickley. Printmaker Gustave Baumann popularized woodcuts in the southwestern US at about the same time. The simple and graphic style developed through the movement still has appeal here… in fact it’s experiencing resurgence. Hey, maybe that’s good for printmakers, eh?!
CLAVREUL: You also teach workshops: in the studio and in the field. Could you talk about "the main advice" you try to give your students? What is the most important and/or interesting thing you share with students about observing and drawing nature and wildlife?
YORK: I love to teach field sketching because I find that many people share that hunger for an authentic life that I first felt reading “Nature Notebook.” So much of our contemporary lives, so many of our interactions, are “virtual.” We write emails, have conference calls over the internet, news from around the world is delivered to us in a relentless stream. It’s a strange paradox to be more connected than ever, but in (I would argue) less meaningful ways. (Personally, I require more than two thumbs on a tiny keypad to tell my stories.)
I can watch mesmerizing videos about exotic places and fascinating animals at any time, but none of it resonates the way an hour alone at the river near my home does. The things I see there and the way I see them are only for me. Someone else has not orchestrated the experience. Many of the people who come to my classes are also looking for a personal experience of nature and a chance to be human beings rather than human doings. I like to share drawing and observation skills with them and then encourage them to focus less on making Art (with a capital A) than on making a record of a real experience. When a student says to me “I never noticed that before,” well… that’s the best reward of teaching. And I’m one of those (ahem) “old school” types who believes there is no substitute for strong drawing skills, no matter what medium an artist works in.
CLAVREUL: Compared to France, United States is a huge country. From time to time, since I met you, I’ve wondered how an artist and illustrator manages his professional life in such a large country. How did you begin? With more or less local contacts and commissions I suppose. Could you talk a bit about that? I suppose that using the web influenced a lot the way you are connected with people, organizations, publishers. What changed during these last years with the web connections?
YORK: Yes, I definitely started with local contacts. I can’t decide if I’m embarrassed or pleased to admit that I don’t spend much time actively searching for projects, at least in terms of illustration work. Many of my illustration and
design projects involve teams of people from different organizations, so a single project might produce multiple contacts for the future. Again, I didn’t set out to be an illustrator or an artist, so the growth of my connections has been very gradual and organic.
As an artist it’s been more difficult, in part because I live in a small town 100 miles from the nearest city. But this is where the web has been hugely influential, both in terms of meeting other artists and getting exposure for my work. I have been writing a blog for almost 5 years, and through it I have met artists and art collectors from around the world. I’ve sold several pieces to collectors in countries I have yet to visit: Portugal, Sweden, Australia.
NOTE: In the video below, York discusses her life as a printmaker.
With this installment, Five Questions/Five Artworks returns to North America with Clavreul having a chat with Colorado printmaker Sherrie York. Enjoy.
By Denis Clavreul
Sherrie York is a watercolorist and a “printmaker”. For the latter—linocuts and woodcuts—she is the old-fashioned kind, who believes in low editions to maintain fidelity of the work and its appeal to collectors who do not wish to purchase lithographs churned out by the thousands. When it comes to sources of inspiration, York invokes names like Albrecht Dürer and Rembrandt. She also mentions an observation from Vincent van Gogh: "The act of printing has always seemed to me a miracle, just such a miracle as the growing up of a tiny seed of grain to an ear-- an everyday miracle, even the greater because it happens everyday. One drawing is sown on the stone or the etching plate, and a harvest is reaped from it."
York makes her home in Salida, a heavenly outost within sight of the Sangre de Christos, a spur subrange of the Colorado Rockies. “I would describe my work as a response to the natural world I live in,” she says. Born in Los Angeles, her family moved into the interior of the American West when she was a young girl.
During an interview with the online art market site, Printsy, York was asked what drew her to the woodcut method. “It’s satisfying to see a drying rack full of successful images, but the act of carving is really what it’s all about for me,” she said. “Some years ago a well-known bronze artist suggested (tentatively, because he ‘didn’t want the competition’) that I was at heart a sculptor. At the time the idea filled me with terror, but I think now that he recognized a certain ‘tactile romance,’ a need to manipulate surfaces.”
She obviously managed to overcome her fear, replacing it with imagery that is known for its strong design and composition. Recently, she won praise for what she calls "The Underfoot Series." York has been involved with the Artists for Nature Foundation, has been an artist in residence at Acadia National Park, and her illustrated field journals have been on display at the New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science.
DENIS CLAVREUL: Why nature and wildlife? It's a big and very general question, but it's always interesting to know if something special influenced your sensibility. Did you share something special related to nature with your family or other people? Did you meet artists who strongly influenced you?
SHERRIE YORK: Chickens. I blame it all on chickens and a man named Richard. Oh, and a children’s book published ten years before I was born. I grew up in the American suburbs, and I think it’s fair to say my family didn’t have any particular interest in nature or the outdoors, although we did go camping from time to time.
When I was nine years old a neighbor gave me an old copy of Nature Notebook, a 'boy’s book' written and illustrated by Robert Candy. In it a father describes a fishing trip with his young son– the illustrations on each page reflected some aspect of their day in a format that combined wildlife field guide and woods lore. When they discovered one of their canoe paddles had been chewed by porcupines, for example, the illustrations were about the natural history of porcupines and how to repair a split paddle. Descriptions of their fishing efforts were accompanied by illustrations of fish identification, fly-fishing techniques, and instructions for cleaning and cooking their catch.I was fascinated by the knowledge and authentic experience expressed in that book, and the idea of lives so entwined with nature. I spent hours laying down on the floor, lost in the pages of that book and wondering what such a life might be like. Even so, I did not set out to be either an artist or a naturalist. I don’t think I realized people actually did that sort of thing for a living! My degree is in education– I trained to be a teacher. But my first year in college I enrolled in a drawing class “just for fun.”
Our professor, Richard Wiegmann, took us to his neighbor’s yard to draw chickens and to the zoo to draw primates and I was hooked on the idea of drawings as a record of authentic experience. Richard’s aesthetic sense, his interest in nature as subject matter, and even his sense of humor were all a huge influence. (A sense of humor was especially important when he discovered I had “borrowed” live mice from the science department to use as models and was keeping them in the art building.) So the seeds were planted early, but it took a very long time for them to bloom. I never seriously considered an art career until much later.
CLAVREUL: Like me, you are not 'only' an artist: you are also a good illustrator. You've been involved for many years with conservation organizations and environmental education. How do you think and feel about that kind of life, as an "artist involved in the society"?
YORK: For me, the most rewarding aspect of working with conservation and education circles back to stories. Conservationists feel passionate about a particular environmental story: maybe it’s resource management, protection of endangered species, restoration of habitat, climate change, or taking a fishing trip with a child. Working with many different people actively involved in environmental education projects both in the United States and around the world has allowed me to learn their stories and to use them to broaden my own understanding. I enjoy being able to support the efforts and energies of these people with my skills as an illustrator and educator.
In return, their projects teach me new information and allow me to explore new ideas and places. I take this experience with me, both in the field and in the studio, and use its influence to tell my own stories or to interpret the larger story in my own way. But each of these efforts–art, illustration, education– requires different mental energies, different approaches, and I do find it difficult to create a balance sometimes.
CLAVREUL: Could you talk about your main technique—relief printing? When and why did you feel comfortable and especially creative with that kind of technique? I could say that we have not, in France, wildlife artists who use that kind of technique (very graphic and decorative). I don't know why. Could you consider that there are some special influences in the US Art story which "promote" that kind of technique? Sometimes I think that, maybe, there is a connection with the art of native peoples.
YORK: I took a printmaking class in college (back to Richard again) and loved everything about etching, but after school I no longer had access to an intaglio press or a way to manage all the chemicals that were part of the process at that time. Later I met artists like you who were working in the field, and some local painters whose work I really admired, so I turned my attention to more manageable (and portable) drawing and painting techniques. I also started doing more illustration work and got involved with several non-profit organizations so printmaking fell by the wayside.
The urge to make prints remained, however, and I realized that relief printing was something I could do with very little equipment and very little space: some ink, some paper, a spoon and my kitchen table. I did a few experiments and enjoyed the process… which led to a few more experiments… and a few more. I’ve recently started to explore the potential of relief printing using a press, but for the most part I’m still using a baren and spoon to produce my prints. [For an explanation of how York approaches the process, click here.
It’s funny… I never thought of relief printmaking having a relationship with native American art. The history most familiar to me is decidedly 'old world,' filled with artists like Durer and Rembrandt. But just today a received a nice letter from a young native American woman in art school who is interested in relief printing to express the meaning of landscape and memory in her culture. I’m very much looking forward to corresponding with her!
"More recently in the story of art in the Americas and related specifically to woodcuts and linocuts was the expression of the Arts and Crafts movement in the early 1900s. Here in the US it was interpreted as 'Craftsman'style, probably most widely recognized in the work of architect Frank Lloyd Wright and furniture craftsman Gustav Stickley.'
Definitely I can see a parallel with the graphic sensibilities of 'new world' native peoples– the woodcarvings of the Inuit and the textile weavings of the Navajo come immediately to mind. Of course these ancient cultures also have deep stories reflecting their strong ties to the land. My own heritage has that old world/new world influence: solid Anglo-European stock on one side and Mexico-Central American on the other. Mexico, too, has a bold and graphic aesthetic. You’ve given me some great topics to explore further!
More recently in the story of art in the Americas, though, and related specifically to woodcuts and linocuts, was the expression of the Arts and Crafts movement in the early 1900s. Here in the United States it was interpreted as 'Craftsman' style, probably most widely recognized in the work of architect Frank Lloyd Wright and furniture craftsman Gustav Stickley. Printmaker Gustave Baumann popularized woodcuts in the southwestern US at about the same time. The simple and graphic style developed through the movement still has appeal here… in fact it’s experiencing resurgence. Hey, maybe that’s good for printmakers, eh?!
CLAVREUL: You also teach workshops: in the studio and in the field. Could you talk about "the main advice" you try to give your students? What is the most important and/or interesting thing you share with students about observing and drawing nature and wildlife?
YORK: I love to teach field sketching because I find that many people share that hunger for an authentic life that I first felt reading “Nature Notebook.” So much of our contemporary lives, so many of our interactions, are “virtual.” We write emails, have conference calls over the internet, news from around the world is delivered to us in a relentless stream. It’s a strange paradox to be more connected than ever, but in (I would argue) less meaningful ways. (Personally, I require more than two thumbs on a tiny keypad to tell my stories.)
I can watch mesmerizing videos about exotic places and fascinating animals at any time, but none of it resonates the way an hour alone at the river near my home does. The things I see there and the way I see them are only for me. Someone else has not orchestrated the experience. Many of the people who come to my classes are also looking for a personal experience of nature and a chance to be human beings rather than human doings. I like to share drawing and observation skills with them and then encourage them to focus less on making Art (with a capital A) than on making a record of a real experience. When a student says to me “I never noticed that before,” well… that’s the best reward of teaching. And I’m one of those (ahem) “old school” types who believes there is no substitute for strong drawing skills, no matter what medium an artist works in.
CLAVREUL: Compared to France, United States is a huge country. From time to time, since I met you, I’ve wondered how an artist and illustrator manages his professional life in such a large country. How did you begin? With more or less local contacts and commissions I suppose. Could you talk a bit about that? I suppose that using the web influenced a lot the way you are connected with people, organizations, publishers. What changed during these last years with the web connections?
YORK: Yes, I definitely started with local contacts. I can’t decide if I’m embarrassed or pleased to admit that I don’t spend much time actively searching for projects, at least in terms of illustration work. Many of my illustration and
design projects involve teams of people from different organizations, so a single project might produce multiple contacts for the future. Again, I didn’t set out to be an illustrator or an artist, so the growth of my connections has been very gradual and organic.As an artist it’s been more difficult, in part because I live in a small town 100 miles from the nearest city. But this is where the web has been hugely influential, both in terms of meeting other artists and getting exposure for my work. I have been writing a blog for almost 5 years, and through it I have met artists and art collectors from around the world. I’ve sold several pieces to collectors in countries I have yet to visit: Portugal, Sweden, Australia.
NOTE: In the video below, York discusses her life as a printmaker.
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