Carve, ink, press, and repeat… Reduction printing is a printmaking technique using a single block to create multi-layered prints, carving away a little more before every application of colour. It’s a slow, thoughtful process that Auckland printmaker Kate Steiner has been gradually perfecting since picking up a brayer and chisels during lockdown.
I create linocut prints – both single- and multi-block – but my heart belongs to the intricate process of reduction linocuts. Each piece is a slow unfolding of layers, carved and printed in succession from a single block.
Like many creative journeys, mine began unexpectedly. During lockdown, I picked up a brayer and some blunt chisels from TradeMe, and taught myself the basics.
I am entirely self-taught. I have never been one of those people to read the instructions first. My hands set about creating and building usually before I have the chance. As a child, mum gave me a little Dremel and I taught myself, then others, bone-carving, and went on to make jewellery from stone, shell, and sterling silver. Printmaking has followed the same intuitive path – learning by doing, refining with each new piece.
Reduction printing is deceptively complex. Before ink touches the block, I sketch, layer ideas, prepare the lino and mount it to wood. Paper is torn down and tabbed for precise registration. The number of sheets I prepare at this point will be the maximum (depending how many fail) number of prints produced at the end. Then begins the dance of carving, inking, pressing, and repeating – layer by layer, across the entire edition.
Nature is my greatest inspiration. I am very lucky to have some of the most beautiful beaches, bush, and rivers in the world just a short drive away. But the beauty of this entire country inspires me endlessly.
Grey hessian backed Lino is my block of choice, and my wide brayers and Swiss-made chisels that have all been gifted to me are my absolute treasures. For hand-burnishing, a palm-sized glass sauerkraut weight – unexpected, but perfect.
In a world that feels increasingly fast, loud, and disposable, I choose slowness, silence, simplicity, and conscious creation. Each print is a quiet rebellion against the rush.
My creative process begins in nature. I’m a big walker and love to take photographs, so I have a huge folder of inspiration ideas to pull from. It’s common while I’m out on walks now, for my mind to flip a particular landscape into the layers of a new reduction. Or for the ripples on water to look like the marks made with my chisel.
My workspace began as the kitchen table and then took over a corner of the garage, which has slowly become more ‘she shed’ than garage. As a space saver and to utilise the rising heat, I built a couple of drying racks that operate like the clothes dryers with pulley systems, so I can hoist the drying prints up out of the way. When I am creating an ocean scene, it’s not unfamiliar to feel like I am hoisting the sails on a yacht. Another element of fun in my studio is my converted washing machine mangle, now living life as a printing press. I love the character that comes with its age, along with all the unique clanks and the creaks of the cogs.
Creative. Whimsical. Enquiring. Active. Curious.
Each year I have a stand at the annual Printopia festival. When you work alone and art sells either online or from galleries, it is easy to feel quite removed from other people interacting with your work. One favourite moment that stays with me was watching a couple looking through my work. They slowly flicked through every piece, taking in each one, and their faces were absolutely beaming at each new offering. I was deeply moved by it, to be able to quietly observe them, unnoticed, and witness how my art could bring delight was quite a privilege.
Because I spend so many hours creating, well-narrated audio books and podcasts have become my go-to. Haruki Murikami recently took me to all kinds of intriguing lands. I really enjoy podcasts like The Creative Kind, but listen to a lot of philosophical talks too, and love Julia Louis Dreyfus’ Wiser Than Me.
Animals have featured prominently in my world, and I’ve always had pets. Cats, dogs, rabbits, mice, goldfish, lambs, cows, chickens, horses, guinea pigs… We currently share our home with two senior mini-schnauzers and a very vocal elderly cat.
What do you make?
I create linocut prints – both single- and multi-block – but my heart belongs to the intricate process of reduction linocuts. Each piece is a slow unfolding of layers, carved and printed in succession from a single block.
How did you get into your craft?
Like many creative journeys, mine began unexpectedly. During lockdown, I picked up a brayer and some blunt chisels from TradeMe, and taught myself the basics.
Do you have formal training or qualifications in your craft?
I am entirely self-taught. I have never been one of those people to read the instructions first. My hands set about creating and building usually before I have the chance. As a child, mum gave me a little Dremel and I taught myself, then others, bone-carving, and went on to make jewellery from stone, shell, and sterling silver. Printmaking has followed the same intuitive path – learning by doing, refining with each new piece.
Tell us about some of the techniques involved in producing one of your pieces
Reduction printing is deceptively complex. Before ink touches the block, I sketch, layer ideas, prepare the lino and mount it to wood. Paper is torn down and tabbed for precise registration. The number of sheets I prepare at this point will be the maximum (depending how many fail) number of prints produced at the end. Then begins the dance of carving, inking, pressing, and repeating – layer by layer, across the entire edition.
What inspires you?
Nature is my greatest inspiration. I am very lucky to have some of the most beautiful beaches, bush, and rivers in the world just a short drive away. But the beauty of this entire country inspires me endlessly.
Your favourite materials, tools and processes?
Grey hessian backed Lino is my block of choice, and my wide brayers and Swiss-made chisels that have all been gifted to me are my absolute treasures. For hand-burnishing, a palm-sized glass sauerkraut weight – unexpected, but perfect.
Is there a philosophy behind your work?
In a world that feels increasingly fast, loud, and disposable, I choose slowness, silence, simplicity, and conscious creation. Each print is a quiet rebellion against the rush.
Describe your creative process:
My creative process begins in nature. I’m a big walker and love to take photographs, so I have a huge folder of inspiration ideas to pull from. It’s common while I’m out on walks now, for my mind to flip a particular landscape into the layers of a new reduction. Or for the ripples on water to look like the marks made with my chisel.
Describe your workspace:
My workspace began as the kitchen table and then took over a corner of the garage, which has slowly become more ‘she shed’ than garage. As a space saver and to utilise the rising heat, I built a couple of drying racks that operate like the clothes dryers with pulley systems, so I can hoist the drying prints up out of the way. When I am creating an ocean scene, it’s not unfamiliar to feel like I am hoisting the sails on a yacht. Another element of fun in my studio is my converted washing machine mangle, now living life as a printing press. I love the character that comes with its age, along with all the unique clanks and the creaks of the cogs.
Five words that describe your mind:
Creative. Whimsical. Enquiring. Active. Curious.
Your favourite feedback from a customer:
Each year I have a stand at the annual Printopia festival. When you work alone and art sells either online or from galleries, it is easy to feel quite removed from other people interacting with your work. One favourite moment that stays with me was watching a couple looking through my work. They slowly flicked through every piece, taking in each one, and their faces were absolutely beaming at each new offering. I was deeply moved by it, to be able to quietly observe them, unnoticed, and witness how my art could bring delight was quite a privilege.
What are you reading?
Because I spend so many hours creating, well-narrated audio books and podcasts have become my go-to. Haruki Murikami recently took me to all kinds of intriguing lands. I really enjoy podcasts like The Creative Kind, but listen to a lot of philosophical talks too, and love Julia Louis Dreyfus’ Wiser Than Me.
Tell us about your pets:
Animals have featured prominently in my world, and I’ve always had pets. Cats, dogs, rabbits, mice, goldfish, lambs, cows, chickens, horses, guinea pigs… We currently share our home with two senior mini-schnauzers and a very vocal elderly cat.