Margaret Ahrens Sahlstrand lives in Ellensburg, Washington,
where she operates Icosa Studio & Papermill. Her work, including unique books
and cast paper, has been exhibited in the US and abroad since 1962. She has
taught classes and workshops in papermaking and paper embossing, and has
lectured on Japanese papermaking and paper arts.
My fascination with deeply textured paper surfaces began with my first
experiences in intaglio printmaking. Thirty years later the enjoyment and
excitement of pulling the first proof from a plate remains. In those early
prints I fell in love with the process of making a soft ground texture on
copper. The plate is beautiful in all stages of preparation. Copper glimmers
through the impression of a fabric in the greasy, acid-resistant ground. After
it is etched in acid, the finished, cleaned plate reveals the rich texture cut
deeply beneath the surface of the copper. Ink is wiped into the recesses and the
plate surface is cleaned at the same time. The etched textures hold the ink
until the pressure of the press forces damp paper to pick up the ink, revealing
the image on the paper. One afternoon in printmaking class I was shown a catalog
of the prints of Mauricio Lasansky and his students at the University of Iowa. I
decided to study with Lasansky and was later accepted into the graduate program.
Seeing work in the faculty exhibits there was, for me, a primary method of
study. One particular print by Lasansky remains visually in my memory. The tall,
vertical print featured the figure of a small boy surrounded by a red background
done in an elaborately textured soft ground of leaves. It had not been
overprinted with other colors and black as I was accustomed to seeing in his
work. That clarity of design propelled me into a study of texture that seventeen
years later led to the first plates of the embossed papers I currently produce.

The means of arriving at the plates included time and experimentation with diverse techniques. My constant interest has always been embossed texture in paper and my first experiments in this direction began after I was graduated from the University of Iowa and had moved to the Pacific Northwest. The area was a center for the collagraph print due to the influence of Glen Alps, who is credited as a developer and innovator of the technique and taught at the University of Washington. I found his methods, using masonite, matboard, and an assemblage of textures, intriguing. I could explore this media in my home studio where I did not have sufficient ventilation to allow for the use of acids and other intaglio materials. I began by building plates with different levels, applying found textures, and employing acrylic modeling paste to translate and create texture by impressing objects into the semi-dry surface. In the 1970s I began producing drawings embossed with collagraph plates. I was drawing on Arches Cover because it embossed easily, moving into modeling paste impressions of plants, textures, and letter forms as well as positive and negative shapes glued onto or cut into a matboard plate. The drawings and plates developed together in the early stages and the uninked plate was printed on the drawings when they were halfway completed. Embossed drawings were finished in graphite and colored pencil with found and constructed objects, attached through a support of mounting board or Plexiglass. Usually I hand lettered a graphite text which curved around images in the drawing, often augmented by embossed words. These words could be read easily yet remained a quiet element and were more a part of the paper. At that time experimental exhibits began to break down barriers previously established by well-defined shows of single or very closely related media. This was especially true in the field of printmaking. For me the late 1960s and early 1970s were a period of experimentation and openness. It was a time of hard work, great fun, and excitement in the studio. Articles about paper casting had begun to appear in the art newspapers and journals. This seemed to be the logical solution to my search for deeper relief in the printed image. I decided to try to make some casting pulp with simple equipment. My printing paper was a thick, unsized Van Gelder Zonen and I had a good supply of off cuts. I beat these into pulp with a hand mixer, pressed the pulp by hand into the plate, and let it dry. The cast sections were then mounted just off position from the same printed image. This basic encounter with paper as a medium directed me into a new way of thinking about my work. Paper was no longer a support or base on which another art form was made. I came to the conclusion that I could meet the particular needs of my own work only if I began to beat the fiber for casting and sheet forming myself. I began to read everything I could find on hand papermaking. Luckily the first books I found were by Dard Hunter, Papermaking in the Classroom and Papermaking: The History and Technique of an Ancient Craft. The latter included a bound-in sample of Hunter's own paper which only furthered my resolve to have a papermaking facility. I had recently moved into a new studio built by my husband, Jim Sahlstrand, who was interested in the geodesic structures of Buckminster Fuller. The studio name, Icosa, comes from the icosahedron shape on which Jim based the structures. My Alps intaglio press was moved from the old studio and occupied one of the four units that comprised the studio. I had plenty of room left in the other three units for papermaking equipment. From this fortunate juncture, I have had two related, parallel lines of interest. One in drawing and printmaking and the other in papermaking and casting. They intermingle freely in my current book pieces, but during the late seventies and early eighties remained distinct except in the context of my drawings. This was a prolific period for drawings, which grew larger and more involved. I continued to explore the collagraph matrix. Many cast paper pieces combined plants native to the Northwest with garments worn by people working in the outdoors. Exacting detail could be obtained with the fine fibrous pulp puddled into the negative mold. In these simple forms I could suggest a mood and motion evocative of the high sagebrush steppe in which I live. Washington state's Percent for Art in New State Buildings programs were then in early stages of development. Through the Washington State Arts Commission I was able to submit proposals for commissions and direct purchases. These cast paper commissions gave me a chance to work in a large format within a favorite context of mine, using plants and garments to suggest a specific place. Perhaps the most enjoyable commission, Silverdale's Children, was made for the kindergarten area of the Cottonwood Elementary School in Silverdale. Imagery consisted of plants, sea creatures, letters, numbers, and game pieces worked into a composition of children's garments. Like a big puzzle it holds elements to find and name that are commonplace to children in coastal Washington. After working in the program for some time, I purchased a Hollander beater and had a large hydraulic press built. I had been ordering pulp from Twinrocker, a long distance away in Indiana, or using the beaters of friends in Seattle. Both Pat Tyler, of Comet Mill, and Suzanne Ferris and Neal Bonham, of Sea Pen Press and Papermill, had graciously let me gain experience on their equipment. My beater, a Davis/Hodges, arrived in 1982 and with that equipment hurdle behind me I could experiment more freely with fibers and color. Soon a second press joined the vacuum table and drying and storage shelves that now filled the three remaining units of the once empty studio. The beater arrived shortly after I returned from six months living in Japan and Korea, where I had traveled to study hand papermaking, from the fall of 1981 through the spring of 1982. My interests extended into paper textiles and clothing. Shifu, the most elusive, was woven from spun paper and kamiko was fashioned from sheets sewn or pasted into garments. Echizen kizuki hosho was also of special interest, due to its importance as a fine printing paper. I was successful in my search because of helpful scholars in the field and the kindness of the artists and craftsmen themselves. They shared their life in paper with me by opening their homes and workshops, showed me their paper treasures and taught me by example and by allowing me to observe their work and to work with them. I remember with pleasure the times without language when we enjoyed each other's work. Portfolios of linen paper and sheets of kozo spoke for us and dictionaries could lie idle on the table. My mind was bursting with ideas and information on my return home. Sandra Kroupa, Special Collections Librarian at the University of Washington, suggested I make a book. I had made some cast paper and pulp painting books in the late seventies. Kyoto Grids was the first of the new books and contained colored pencil drawings on round, handmade sheets of linen and cotton with mitsumata lining. Winter Through My Window and Echizen Kizuki Hosho, The Paper of Iwano Ichibei soon followed. These pieces involved drawings, pulp painting, and text on a variety of watermarked sheets and cast papers. Fibers included linen, cotton rag, and mitsumata, all prepared in my own mill. As I continued to make one-of-a-kind books my production of collagraph plates and embossed papers increased. I found I liked interleaving papers, end sheets, and wrappers that suggested the contents of the book. A number of printing plates were produced for this purpose. An unexpected surprise was finding that other artists, graphic designers, and fine binders also enjoyed using the paper. The year 1988 brought a flurry of plate production. With these plates I could print a broad selection of machine and handmade papers suitable for a varied clientele. A few plates were made exclusively for use by one client. Usually the plants I use are native to the Northwest, although several of the most recent plates represent plants from a broader geographic area. Abiquiu is cottonwood, oak, and juniper from New Mexico, and the materials for Midwestern Oak were collected in Illinois and Minnesota. A strong sense of place is attached to each plate. Woodland Lily and Cooper Lake, just recently finished, were quite challenging. Both convey some of the lushness of spring and summer woods where we like to walk and canoe. They include a variety of foliage and wild flowers which are carefully selected and hurried back to the studio. Leaves and flowers are collected only where there is an abundance and the promise of renewal. Laura Caruso, a good friend who is a forester, tutors me in identification so I may avoid endangered plants. I continue to enjoy making my own paper and produce it in small quantities for my own books. I indulge myself regularly by beating a few pounds of rag for drawing paper or casting pulp for a particular group of pages. I emboss paper, cast or paint with pulp to match imagery in the illustrations or text, and often mix in purchased papers as needed. A Travel Diary and A Paper Sample Book are two books finished recently. A Travel Diary consists of Rives de Lin pages painted during a trip from Colorado to my childhood home in Illinois. A journal provided the text, which is reproduced on photographic film. These pages of film allow the images to be seen through the text. Embossing features in end sheets and as imagery throughout the book. It is bound with long stitch sewing, supported on a cover of Timothy Barrett's case paper. Embossing produced the title in the cover and a landscape image on the box, made from the same paper. A Paper Sample Book is a collection of sheets I have produced in recent years that are printed with various embossed plates. The ochre colored rag used in the cover, box, and wrapper was enhanced with persimmon juice I brought back from Japan. The cover will darken with age and helps give the piece a durable finish. The outermost wrapper draws some of its form from the many paper containers and enclosures I saw in Japan. Several other books with similar formats lie on my work table ready for further work. I feel I am fortunate to have found in the book an art form which allows me to combine all the things I enjoy into one piece. Making the Plate A plate begins pleasantly with a walk in the hills or mountains near my home to gather materials. After the materials are collected, the first of three phases of plate making begins. I construct the plate on a base of illustration or other heavy board, on the surface of which I spread modeling paste. The largest plates are 30" x 40". The thickness of paste depends on the object to be imbedded into the surface, as a thick leaf or heavily textured textile needs a greater paste depth than a delicate fabric or plant. Experience and small test plates form the basis of my decisions at this stage. Usually the depth is from 1/16 to 1/4 inch. A composition develops as the leaves are pressed into the plate's surface. My intention is to suggest a sense of the place or origin of the subject materials. If the natural materials are frail, work must continue without stopping until the plate is completed. The plate must then dry for a time before any materials are removed from the surface. This varies according to the weather and may take several days. In the second stage of work I read the plate to insure it will print clearly and make any necessary repairs. The plate must dry thoroughly again before proofing. A second way of working on plates is to layer modeling paste on the board and allow it to skin over. A hair dryer speeds the process of creating a thick skin. The plate is dusted lightly with talcum powder to reduce any stickiness that may occur. Textured objects may be pressed into the thickened paste and removed right away. It is a faster way of working but it still needs to dry completely before printing. Proofing the plate is the third and final stage before production. At this time I decide how to print the plate to its best advantage and choose the paper or papers best suited to the particular printed image. The physical qualities of a printing paper influence the detail and the level of embossment in the finished sheet as much as the high or low relief inherent in the plate. A poor choice of paper can mean an unrealized print. My first job in approaching the press is to discover what is actually on the plate and set aside any preconceived ideas. Everything is carefully logged in a notebook from this point on, to establish a procedure for future printing sessions. Several standard pressures are marked on the press and each new plate is tested based on these settings. Notations are also made on the printing paper and how it was prepared. These methods include: soaking in a tray, spraying with water and leaving briefly to relax; or spraying with water and placing in a damp box overnight. The number of printing felts used with a plate is also noted to assure consistent results later on. I begin printing with light pressure using a thin paper-- Arches Text or Ingres Antique--and progress to finish with heavier pressure and paper, usually Rives de Lin or Arches Cover. On this basis a paper may be selected for a particular need. For example, a low relief plate like Yasha prints with clarity on Ingres Antique if a text weight paper is called for. The image prints more delicately on the heavier weight Arches Cover, which is desirable if letterpress printing is to be done on the same sheet. Care is always taken on the heavy end of pressure settings so that plates are not smashed. Printed sheets are dried in the usual way, alternating blotters with the finished prints. The stack of sheets and blotters is given a light weight on top and allowed to dry overnight. I note problems with a paper, such as napping, tearing, or splitting. Then I make a note on how I think the paper and image combination might behave in actual use as cover or text paper. These observations take time but I have found they prevent false starts in work undertaken later and are a valuable reference in making future paper and image choices. Printing on Handmade Papers Handmade papers are the most challenging sheets for me as an intaglio printer and the most satisfying. After the proofing process I know what my plates will look like printed on high quality machine made papers. They become a standard when I begin printing a handmade paper for the first time. It is important to know the fiber content of a handmade sheet and it is often helpful to know who made it. I recently tested three linen/flax papers made by different papermakers. Each paper reacted somewhat differently when printed and dried. Here observation, experience, and intuition play an important role. Slight changes in handling may make all the difference in the look of a finished sheet. These handmade sheets have strong character, which is important to bring into play. The three linen or line flax papers reacted in a similar fashion during soaking. They were all hydrophilic, taking up a great volume of water as they dampened. From this point differences became apparent: I. Timothy Barrett's restraint dried case paper literally fizzed in the water due to the density of the sheet. I printed the case paper with heavy pressure to draw out moisture and insure a rich impression. I air dried it briefly and then placed it in blotters. It has an almost vellum-like quality. II. Sea Pen linen swirl, also restraint dried, was an obliging sheet which soaked quickly and printed easily with medium pressure. It dried absolutely flat in the open air. III. Line flax sheets from Amanda Degener, of Cave Paper, had been loft dried and took the softly curved form expected of well hydrated sheets that are not restraint-dried. On dampening they relaxed easily into a flat form and were similar to Barrett's case paper during printing. They dried easily in the air, remained flat and did not retain the memory of their loft dried form. Hand Coloring After the paper is dry there is further opportunity to enhance the surface. A basic method of coloring is to use a mixture of methyl cellulose paste and powdered pigment. The pigment should be mixed into the paste and tested on a swatch of paper to check the color saturation. It may be applied lightly by hand or brush to the relief areas of the paper. The paper should be dried without weight to avoid off setting the color. Light pressure may be added overnight to insure the sheet remains flat.     A cautionary note regarding the use of pigments: a respirator, rubber gloves, and adequate ventilation should be employed during mixing and application of pigment to the base sheet. Food and drink should never be consumed in the same place powdered pigments are used. Work areas should be cleaned thoroughly after mixing pigment. There are no tests on safety standards for pregnant or nursing women. Perhaps contact with these materials should be postponed to avoid possible exposure to an infant.

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