Introducing Ryan White

Ryan White describes himself as a “hobbyist/craftsman” and has been drawn to Mokuhanga printing as a way to spend time away from the computer screen.  

“Because I program computers for a living and spent years in marketing and advertising, I like to fill my spare time with things that are away from screens and need quiet time, focus and patience. I find woodblock work almost meditative,” Ryan says. 

Ryan runs an amusingly written blog that chronicles his experiments in “mucilage” (the lick-and-stick glue on old style stamps) to demystifying tech terms like “variables.” He is slowly building a portfolio of Mokuhanga prints based on self-appointed technical challenges or images that amuse or please his kids. He has been a delightfully communicative member of Mokuhanga Kai and we are pleased to be featuring his practice. 

When did you first encounter a Mokuhanga print?

Around 2015 or so I first came across the term “mokuhanga” and now had a label for that kind of Japanese print. Before that, I’d seen the prints in encyclopedias, online and so on.

Since childhood I’ve been fascinated by Japanese prints and paintings but had just always grown up thinking “print” meant “print reproduction of a painting” so I never really gave it much thought. Then, in about 2015, while I was looking into ways to print “stickers.” I stumbled across David Bull’s sites and videos and was pretty much immediately hooked. 

What was the attraction of the print process for you?

I love how, with pretty basic tools and processes, prints that are frequently mistaken for paintings can be produced. It’s incredible how the results can vary, depending on slight changes in technique or application and how the results can be as high or low brow as the artist/printer desires.

When did you first start making your own prints?

It was about October 2015 and it was incredibly basic stuff. It’s always daunting when you see a David Bull or Paul Binnie, or any one of the tons of Japanese documentaries out there with these exceptional results. But, at the very least, I was getting to carve wood a bit which is always fun.

What has been the most important technical lesson for you?

Patience! Because this is a process based on natural materials and variances you have to work hard to keep things consistent at each step if you want to even stand a chance of having consistent results. The best possible tools you can buy will help but even makeshift tools and consistency will beat lack of attention.

How often do you make a Mokuhanga print?

Randomly and infrequently: it’s often months between me making prints. When I do make prints it involves a long time of planning and waiting, followed by a quick flurry of activity to complete the prints, and then stopping. This suits me as I have a couple of hobbies and in order for me to keep the mess around the house to a minimum, I limit myself to just one project at a time. I’m starting to feel the internal pressure to start putting a portfolio together but first I must find my style.

Why Mokuhanga?

It gives a beautiful result or range of beautiful results. Frequently people can’t believe that these works of art come from blocks of wood. The process is also simple or intricate as needed. True to Japanese tradition, there is an entire range of ability and craft acceptable at all levels. It’s almost like archery: the entire ritual is focused on the process until the arrow is released. Exactly where it lands is secondary to doing your best and/or having fun preparing.

There’s also very little waste or toxic chemicals as it’s basically paper and watercolours. This makes it easier to clean up without having to use solvents. I find the whole process very calming, analog and non-digital.

What do you like the most about Mokuhanga?

I like that although we think of its most famous use in Ukiyo-e now as art, most of it at the time was pretty much “trashy comics” or “cheap art” meant for the masses. It reached incredible heights of sophistication, even as the west was making technology that would make it redundant. It’s incredible that the pieces can last for hundreds of years and that, technically, even the stuff I do could possibly fit under that umbrella. Quite good fun!