Research Festival
Research Festival
I feel like the word festival is a stretch
What should I do
The Parade, 37x37cm, Etching, Boris Kwok, 2025
I remember being at Hausprint, thinking about my research festival. It felt logical to make a helmet after creating a whole suit of armor. I wanted to design something non-Western this time, something more spiritual, maybe decorated with gold leaf and light. I had it all planned out in my head.
But in the back of my mind, I was already worrying about the tight deadlines. I was burnt out from making the plaster prints, and the idea of another large-scale build felt heavy. There was also the issue of the research festival itself; it had to be a continuation of research, something that could exist as a publication, workshop, or performance. I had no idea how to turn a helmet into any of that. I told myself I’d figure it out when the time came.
Spirit Ground
The discovery of spirit ground changed everything. The helmet idea was no longer practical, mostly because of time restrictions. A helmet would have taken weeks, and I wanted to focus on something that could grow faster. I had always wanted to create a coherent set of etchings that could stand together as a project, something people could look at and understand who I am through my work. This prompt became the perfect opportunity to test and refine the spirit ground process while producing a body of work that shows what I can offer as an artist.
I was also glad to finally find a voice for repression, something that connects directly to my life’s project and continues the theme of armor and war. The spirit ground became that voice. I planned to make as many prints as possible within the time given, but the nature of experimenting with a new process slowed me down, and getting sick for two weeks didn’t help. Even so, I’m proud of how much I learned and how this shift opened a new path in my practice.
Last experiment
For the moment, I am imagining a series of prints similar to Goya’s Disasters of War and Otto Dix’s Der Krieg, uniform in size, tied together by a loose but consistent theme. I decided to venture into using steel because of its rich open bite, and I also wanted to see if the plate tone could add more grit to the prints, a small homage to how Goya often left plate tone on his works. I used Rhind’s varnish as a thinking tool, blocking out a rough shape of the soldier and his mace, as well as the layout of the land.
These three pictures illustrate the fragility of the spirit ground, all taken within a span of five minutes. The best thing about steel is how easily you can see the transformation as it etches, which helps a lot when deciding when to pull the plate out. I still haven’t found a way to control how the textures develop. During my brief time working with it, I’ve noticed several factors that affect its appearance: temperature, the roughness of the plate, the number of layers, and the method of solution application, whether dropped, painted, or poured. These are the ones I’ve identified so far, but there’s still so much to discover. This plate turned into a wave-like texture, completely different from all the others I’ve done before. I’m excited to see what else is possible; the potential feels endless.
A hand of it’s own
Fragility of spirit ground
I then added hardground for the figure. I debated with myself about how detailed it needed to be. The background was already so full of texture and information that I didn’t want the figure to fight for attention. While I was still thinking about it, my hands started drawing on their own. The figure came out with shadow lines carved into his body and cape-like wings attached behind him, like a fallen angel offering up his final prayer, desperately begging for redemption.
I think with my hands too much sometimes, but it follows the natural course of feeling, and I can’t blame any part of myself for deciding what comes next. Although I regretted it after etching, I still think those deeply bitten cape lines look immaculate. I decided to etch them for a long time. Steel always surprises me with how solid it is, the acid bites straight down, like copper, instead of sideways like zinc. There’s so much more I can do with steel that I would be too afraid to try with zinc. Look at how beautiful those lines are when printed and catching the light. If that doesn’t get your rocks off, nothing will.
I did a simple aquatint on the lower section, using litho crayons as resist. I wanted to see how it would look if the shadows became the highlights, maybe that reversal could unsettle people a little. I wasn’t happy with how the crayon texture turned out; it was too rough for what I wanted. I wondered if using a softer litho crayon could create a smoother gradient instead of such a harsh one.
Reflection
I love how the spirit ground turned out. It’s still not as dark as I wanted, but I balanced it with a darker aquatint, so it works well overall. The white patches of the spirit ground fall right along the horizon, which gives the image a strong sense of power. Sadly, there are no worms or creatures appearing in this one. The figure also has room for improvement. The shading is fine, but I keep questioning whether it’s really needed, something still feels unfinished.
I experimented with line weights: the stone in the background was etched for the shortest time, the armor was etched normally, and the cape was left in the acid for much longer. The difference between the three isn’t very noticeable yet, so I’ll need to see how far I can push that in future plates. Overall, it’s a fine image, but I’ll need to think carefully about whether I want to include it in the research festival or save it for later development.
The Rise
Homage to Goya
The first print I made was heavily inspired by Goya’s Disasters of War. It felt like the perfect starting point for this series. I first used hard ground as the base for everything, drafting the main forms like the tree and the soldiers. I wanted to build the image around these two characters, one being a person inside the armor, the other being the armor itself, an empty shell, a puppet. The idea is that the soldier is working through his grief by carrying the armor of his fallen comrade. This became the basis for all the subsequent prints. There might not be a person inside the armor anymore, but by remembering and carrying it, the surviving soldier honors his memory and keeps him alive. That’s what most of our death rituals do, they keep the dead close through remembrance.
I represented the armor being alive again through memory by placing a phoenix-like tree behind it. For the texture of the tree, I chose sugarlift. I wanted those sugarlift marks to shine through the branches like healed scars, suspending the armor in midair for all to see. For this process, I used intaglio sugarlift solution with a thinned-down strawhat resist. It worked well in most areas, but where I accidentally painted two layers of resist, it mixed with the sugarlift solution and couldn’t be dissolved later, causing some texture loss.
I took a test print and wiped it loosely, leaving quite a lot of plate tone. I loved how it turned out. It reminded me of when I first learned etching and used to leave heavy, swirly plate tone on my prints, only to be corrected and told how amateur it looked. It’s strange to come full circle, I’m leaving plate tone again, but now I can control the level of grey left behind through careful wiping. It’s funny how something once seen as a mistake has become something that elevates my work.
Strong Acid
(Tampoco), plate 36 from "The Disasters of War", Goya, 1810
I then applied the spirit ground for the background. This time, something went wrong with the acid, either the water had evaporated, or too much acid had been poured in. The only thing I know for sure is that it wasn’t 4:1 anymore. When I put the plate in, it started bubbling violently, with brown fumes rising above the ventilation hood. It even kept bubbling after I pulled it out of the acid. The fumes got to me, and it was not pleasant. Because it etched so fast, I had no idea how long to leave it in. By the time I realised what was happening, it was too late, the plate was deeply bitten.
In some areas, where the spirit ground was applied too thickly, the acid barely touched it, leaving patches that printed much whiter than the rest. I hated how bright those areas looked, they interfered with the visibility of the phoenix. I tried to darken them with spit bite, but that only muddled the image further. I also added some hard-ground lines on the armor to bring it back together.
Since the print came out darker than I expected, I decided to lean into it and turn it into a night scene. I added uniform line shading to the figures to help them blend more naturally into the background. When I was working with the plate on the hot plate, some of the hard-ground lines melted slightly and merged together. I actually loved how that turned out. It gave the image a softer, more organic look. It’s definitely something I want to explore further, purposely disturbing the hard ground after it’s finished, just to see what kind of effects I can get away with.
Reflection
Sadly, I loved how it looked before I added the spirit ground, the version where the background was just plate tone from wiping. Every print is a learning experience, though, and I’m surprised by how resilient steel is. Even when it’s bitten deeply, it still retains the subtle highs and lows where the resist used to be. Steel is much tougher than zinc, and I can already see the potential for making some beautiful embossing effects with it.
I don’t use Sugarlift very often, but this tree turned out much better than I expected. The oily surface reacted unpredictably with the sugarlift solution, creating unique grain patterns in the texture. I feel like I have no real control over where the grain ends up, it depends entirely on the oily surface, and that uncertainty is exactly what I want to explore. That’s what drew me to the spirit ground in the first place. Sugarlift could become a semi-controllable way to add lines, something that fits naturally with what I’m doing in these etchings.
Wait
Drafting
This soldier is in denial. His friend is not gone, if he waits long enough, he believes he will come back. He searches for affirmation in the eyes of the audience, his hands gripping with anxiety. His friend is long gone, his armor droops over, waiting for gravity to pull it six feet under. The image is simple. This is where I first started feeling bored, questioning why I was doing a series at all. They felt quiet, motionless, so different from my usual work. The self-doubt started flooding in, but I kept moving forward. Even if I was wrong, I could still stand proud and say I made a series of prints.
Monogamous layering of textures
Hard ground saving
Reflection
Rhind’s varnish, then aquatint, then textures. This is my life now. The spit bite turned out way too soft; I didn’t layer it enough. The white ground, however, came out beautifully. Sometimes it feels like a coin toss when working with white ground and spit bite, there are just too many variables to control for them to work perfectly every time. The good thing about etching is that there’s always another chance to cover or fix something.
This time, I intentionally layered thicker spirit ground for the sky, and I think I’m finally getting the hang of how it behaves. I can start to control the direction and the way it reacts with the plate. It’s also interesting how Rhind’s varnish dissolves slightly under heat when it meets the spirit ground solution. Small accidents like that are slowly teaching me more than any plan could.
I felt like some order was needed in the print. The rock they sit on looked too floaty because of how white it was, so I added hardground lines to anchor the rock and the figures in place.
This print might be my most boring one. The textures feel separate, with no real relationship between them. It looks more like an expertly laid-out collage than an etching. All the things I love about etching were drained away by the deadline and the pressure of using spirit ground. I didn’t want to risk ending up with nothing to show for the research festival, so I fell back on what I already knew would work, the safe options.
To be honest, there isn’t much to reflect on here. These are techniques I’ve done before, and nothing new came out of this print. I hate it. There is no soul in these prints, it is just an amalgamation of techniques smushed into a print. And at this point, I’m just waiting for the deadline to pass so I can finally be free to explore the wonders of etching again.
Box time
I love Shepherds, such a lovely store. I even shot my shot and asked if they were hiring. I felt a bit embarrassed afterward, but it’s necessary if I want to make it anywhere, I guess. They did mention they’ll have an opening soon and will announce it on Instagram, so we’ll see. The premade portfolios were £40, but I decided to buy all the materials to make one myself for about £30. Charlotte, the technician, said she’s confident she can teach me how to make it. I’m always up for a challenge, so I went ahead and made the portfolio.
There were a lot of calculations involved, and I’m not great with numbers, so we improvised quite a bit along the way. All in all, it was a great experience. I learned a lot about box making, and it turned out to be much easier than I imagined. There are small imperfections scattered around the box, but I’m proud of it, especially since it’s my first one. It’s a pretty normal box for now, but I’d like to see how I can spice it up later. For the time being, it will have to be content with being a simple purple box.
Journey
I used intaglio sugarlift solution with liquor hardground this time. I wanted to see if there’s a clear winning combination for Sugarlift. For this one, I kept it simple, moving from small controlled strokes to big expressive ones. I wanted the focus to stay on the characters; the simplified lights and shadows were meant to draw the viewer’s eyes toward the two hugging figures.
The sugarlift areas came out shockingly black and white. Even a thin layer of sugar solution was lifted completely. I was hoping the broad brushstrokes would produce a soft, washy black with gentle gradients, but that didn’t happen at all. I also applied the spirit ground at the same time to save effort and to see if they could coexist. It worked perfectly since their etching times matched. I’ve started setting the spirit ground etching time to five minutes for consistency, so I can focus on adjusting other factors, like the number of layers, to better understand how it behaves.
Reflection
In this journey of creating a series of works, I’ve reached the darkest part of the tunnel. Desperation sinks in, but I take it step by step. The light at the end of the tunnel, though dim, still burns bright. I tried to put that feeling of desperation into this print. The spirit ground isn’t the main character this time, it steps back, becoming a side presence in the background, waiting for its moment. This print feels more abstract than any of the others.
I also wanted to try something Pete suggested earlier, dipping the plate back and forth in acid to create a gradient in the aquatint, a spit bite method used by Norman Ackroyd. It didn’t work as I hoped; the middle section didn’t etch deeply enough and left a grey tone where I wanted a deep black. It was frustrating, but I carried on.
I still don’t know why the hand of the figure came out so large. My mind told me to leave it as it was while drawing the hardground, it wasn’t in the sketches, it just appeared. My interpretation is that it’s a fantasy, a wish to have a hand big enough to carry all the responsibilities I hold in life. Maybe that subconscious desire slipped into the etching without me realising.
Gestural Sugarlift
It might be because it was a smaller plate, but since I used sugarlift, I added an aquatint before applying the spirit ground. As a result, the spirit ground printed greyer than before. That got me thinking, what if I added aquatint after the spirit ground instead? Would it act as an extra layer of protection for the spirit ground while also blackening the open areas more evenly? It’s just a hypothesis for the next etching, but it might be worth trying.
Connection
Hand in hand, spit and bite
Aimless spirit ground
This goes back to what I was doing when I first started this master’s, the chemistry of push and pull. I love that my old ideas are melting into the new ones. They never die; they just get transformed into a part of me. Like the Ship of Theseus, I am a mosaic made of the pieces I hold dear, and I’m glad I held onto this one in particular.
I wasn’t happy with how bad I was at spit biting before. After looking at Ackroyd’s work again, I had an epiphany: spit bite is all about layers and patience. You can’t expect it to turn out right after just a few washes; it’s the continuous application that creates the deepest black. I was thinking of a beautiful meadow with trees when I made this piece, and it worked surprisingly well. The control of water on the surface of the plate while applying acid is key to how the spit bite develops.
Spirit ground was applied next. This time, I tried the spirit ground then aquatint method I mentioned earlier. It worked well, technically, the blacks looked great while still keeping some white textures, but I feel like some of the spirit ground’s charm was lost in translation along the way. It might have been my application. It felt more aimless than the others. In the previous plates, I kept a consistent direction and flow, but this time I decided to let loose and paint in every direction. Maybe having a sense of direction works better for Spirit Ground.
Something about this plate feels wrong; it doesn’t feel complete. The shadows on the ground are too soft, and the two armors look floaty. That’s when I got the idea to burnish away some of the marks to help define the shadows better.
Push 2, etching, Boris, 2025
One Must
Imagine Boris Happy
Satisfied for now
I was a defeated man, dragging myself through these etchings. I can only hope that, when I look back at them later, I’ll remember not the grueling process but the sweet nectar of the result. I feel deeply connected to the main character, trying his best to make sense of what’s happening while fighting repression that seems to be everywhere. Exhausted and beaten to the ground, but still holding on to the last bit of humanity I have.
It didn’t help that I got really sick during this time, which I think added to the feeling of desperation that seeped into the work. I used coffee concentrate with liquid hard-ground for this one. After all these trials, I still don’t know which combination works best. I lost a lot of detail in the trees when I tried to lift the sugarlift. Maybe there isn’t a clear winner, each method seems to be slightly better than the others at something different. I finished by spitbiting the hills, keeping in mind the cast shadows of those two handsome characters.
After the sugarlift, I felt the whole image was too soft. I wanted to see if I could borrow something I learned from oil painting, glazing. Instead of using spirit ground just for the background, I protected the two characters and then applied a layer of spirit ground over everything. I also used some of the earlier spirit ground mixtures I made, the ones with too much rosin, placing them in areas where I wanted the original spit bite to shine through.
I learned a lot while doing this. The spontaneous action of painting directly on the plate with acid opens up endless possibilities. I loved how the print looked after the spit bite, but the characters weren’t clear enough; they melted into the background tone. To fix this, I used Softground for the first time in this series. I couldn’t use a pencil because the tissue paper covered the surface, so I used my fingerprints to darken the area around the two figures instead. Afterward, I applied Rhind’s varnish to protect the figures from my fingerprinting. It worked beautifully, creating a natural aura of darkness around them.
I’m very happy with how this print turned out. I need to see if I can use Spirit Ground not just as texture, but as a way of image-making itself. I think that will come with time and repetition , only practice will tell where this technique can take me.
This is the end of the documentation. I feel like these are not resolved and have a long way to go. The future for these will be editioning them and making a few of those beautiful boxes and sending them to galleries that suit my style. See if I can cold call them into opportunities.