Here today, gone tomorrow - the liberating impermanence of Instagram Stories

I have to admit I had fallen out of love with Instagram since the recent change to a non-chronological timeline and had pretty much stopped looking at it. All that has changed in the last few days with the arrival of 'Stories'. I have been completely won over and now visit Instagram several times a day.

If you haven't yet discovered this new feature, launched last week, Stories are made up of photos and (very) short video clips, uploaded to Instagram without the usual panoply of captions and hashtags. There are no filters or cropping; the aim is for honesty and spontaneity. You can cheat a little by uploading an existing photo or video from your phone but only if it is less than a day old. Viewers can't comment or like; the images are simply there to be briefly enjoyed because (and this is the important bit) after 24 hours they vanish, like a mayfly. New images are added to the end of the story reel while the older ones at the beginning disappear.

I was highly sceptical when I first heard about this but within hours I was converted. Not only do I enjoy the tiny glimpses of others' non-styled, non-filtered and non-curated days but I quickly realised how perfectly this suits documenting the daily life in an artist's studio.

A still from a 7 second clip of cutting out a collagraph plate.

I am happy to make demonstration videos showing my methods, but they are a lot of work and they have to be (or at least appear) perfect. I don't mind people seeing the less perfect bits - I am told my workshop students get a lot of help from seeing me make mistakes (or perhaps they are just being kind) - but I would hate the scruffy part of my work to be permanently archived on the internet. These ephemeral collections of little clips which come with no commentary or narrative offer a wonderful licence to share without fear.

So now I am regularly adding snapshots or a few seconds of video of what I am doing. There is no need for me to record an explanation, think up tags or even worry if the finished piece will be up to scratch. My story includes glimpses of the stages of printmaking, views of my surroundings, things that catch my eye, sources of inspiration (and, I will admit, the odd cat photo - well it is Instagram after all).  I'm hoping that as people see my story unfold they will begin to recognise the processes and routines of my working life. Perhaps they will want to visit my website or this blog to find out more. Maybe fellow artists will find some of what I do reassuringly familiar. It could be that a viewer will decide to come to a workshop. Or perhaps they will simply understand a bit more about what artists do all day.

Instagram wouldn't be the same without cat photos.

If you would like to find me on Instagram I am @stoneflowerjane. To see someone's story, visit their profile and if they have a new story that you haven't seen yet then their profile photo will be circled in colour. Simply click to view. Meanwhile on your usual Instagram feed, people you follow with stories to see will appear across the top in a banner. At the time of writing stories can be seen only on mobile devices. To find out more about Instagram Stories and how to make your own, there is a short guide here.

The making of Velvet Ears

Social media can open interesting doors and make unexpected connections. I created this print last year, based on a photo taken by one of my online pals (whom I have never met in real life) of a puppy belonging to friends of hers. A few tweets gave me the permission of both the photographer and the puppy's owners to turn the image into a collagraph monoprint, and as a thank you the first two prints from the edition went to the parties concerned.

Although each print in the edition of 15 is made from the same plate, the image is created by wiping and removing ink in a painterly way. The results will therefore be slightly (or even greatly) different each time, making each print a monoprint. This is easier to show than to explain so I have finally got around to making a video of the process.

After giving away the first two prints in the edition, I put another one in the Taster Exhibition for last year's York Open Studios, where I am pleased to say it was the first sale made. Others from the edition are now available in my shop.

Just a print

Last Christmas I sent tiny etchings to some of my friends and family; each one was a numbered and signed print from a limited edition of 50. Most thanked me for their print but a couple thanked me for their 'card'. I smiled and nodded and fought back the temptation to ask anxiously if they had dropped it in the Christmas card recycling point at the supermarket, or cut it up to make a tag for next year's wrapping. How could I correct them without sounding like a bossy teacher or an over-sensitive artist? Finally one lovely friend phoned and gave effusive thanks and said she would treasure her little robin as a "Jane Duke original", but then corrected herself and said "... of course I know it's not really an original, but it is to me".
"No, no" I replied, "it is an original."
"Really?" she said, surprised and delighted, "Oh I thought it was just a print!"

'Robin'
Drypoint etching 6 x 6 cm

It's easy to see why there is confusion; despite having one of the richest vocabularies in the world, the English language still uses the same word to mean an original piece of art hand created by the artist and a scanned reproduction of an image run off on a machine. The problem has been exacerbated since the 1990s by artists selling giclée (inkjet) reproductions of their paintings as 'limited edition prints'. You can hardly blame the non-artist public for not immediately making the distinction. So what are printmakers to do to protect our craft? We can sulk and stamp and weep or we can quietly, determinedly and politely make it possible for people to see and understand what we do.

I enjoy giving short demonstrations at art events and in my studio during the York Open Studios weekends, and I also have leaflets on my stand at art shows, explaining the processes. I post step by step demos and photos of work in progress here on the blog and I have put a printmaking guide and a glossary of terms on my website. And then of course I also teach workshops for those who are curious enough to want to try for themselves.

I've now taken another step, and after wrestling with self consciousness and fear of making a hash of it, I stuck my phone in a clamp, switched on the camera and made my first YouTube video. Appropriately perhaps, it shows the making of that little Robin etching which was given out at Christmas and which brought some misunderstandings to light. I'd love you to watch it if you have 5 minutes.

Now I've made this leap I will be making more of these videos. I hope they help to spread the word about what printmaking is, on behalf of all printmakers whose work is so much more than 'just a print'.

At the time of writing the remaining 'Robin' prints in the edition can be purchased in my shop