Introduction: A Newfoundland voice, preserved in Toronto
The Art Gallery of Ontario’s major retrospective on David Blackwood shines a light on a Newfoundland storyteller who chose printmaking as his enduring medium. Though Blackwood died in 2022, his studio in Port Hope, Ontario, continues to reveal the painstaking steps behind his iconic scenes of mummers, sealers, and mighty vessels. Through his former studio assistant, Janita Wiersma, the AGO offers a rare window into how a single artist’s hand, timing, and technique can create a series of works that function as authentic originals—despite existing as multiple impressions.
The artist and the process: Where printmaking becomes an art form
Blackwood’s reputation rests on copperplate etching and aquatint, a method that yields fine lines, nuanced tones, and a dramatic sense of memory. As curator Alexa Greist notes, Blackwood’s narrative approach in a period dominated by abstraction made his work both distinctive and influential. Each print is a blend of subject matter drawn from personal memory and family stories, transposed into a visual language that could be reproduced yet remained unmistakably original.
Why a true original is more than a copy
In the artist’s studio, the line between “original” and “reproduction” becomes an educational moment. Blackwood insisted that the artist pull their own prints, arguing that the plate is like sheet music and the printer a musician interpreting the score. The result is a work whose existence as a multiple does not diminish its originality, but rather anchors it in the artist’s direct involvement at every crucial step.
From tracing paper to aquatint: The meticulous voyage of a copperplate
Wiersma describes the step-by-step journey: a drawing is reversed on tracing paper, ink is applied, and lines are etched into a copper plate. The process deepens through acid baths and the optional yet exacting aquatint stage, where powdered rosin creates tonal shading. The final proofs are pulled on a press, and only then do the images begin to breathe in print form. Aquatint, in particular, adds the depth and mood that characterize Blackwood’s seafaring tales and coastal landscapes.
Tooling and patience: Why this craft endures
“It’s tedious, but the kind of tedious I really love,” Wiersma says. The craft requires discipline, control, and a reverence for process that not all contemporary artists are willing to undertake. The studio’s atmosphere—shared history, careful handling of metals, and the memory of a master at work—offers visitors a rare chance to witness traditional printmaking in action.
Legacy and limits: What the AGO retrospective reveals
Blackwood produced a substantial body of work over the decades, with a life split between Newfoundland and Ontario. Even during hospitalizations mid-career, his resolve remained intact: he returned to the press, ready to draw and etch anew. The AGO’s exhibition foregrounds the distinction between an original print and widely sold posters, reminding audiences of the careful labor that underpins a true fine art print.
Conclusion: A living archive with a clear boundary
Anita Blackwood, David’s widow, preserves the copperplates as a private archive. The decision not to posthumously publish from unfinished plates reflects a commitment to the integrity of the artist’s method. The AGO retrospective, complemented by Wiersma’s stewardship, ensures that Blackwood’s legacy remains a living, teachable practice—one that makes clear how a master printer and a determined painter can sustain a cultural memory through a disciplined, artisanal craft.
