From Copper Plate to Screen – Why I Make Art Prints

For me, an art print is first and foremost about one thing: enabling more people to experience an artist's universe.

When someone buys an art print from me, they're not just buying a picture on paper or canvas. They're buying a piece of a story, an idea, and an artistic expression that I have spent a lifetime experimenting with, exploring, playing and failing with, and not least, refining and perfecting.

Buying art is very much about identity. About who and what we want to surround ourselves with. Some buy art because they recognize themselves in the stories. Others because they love the colors, the mood, or an expression. Some because a motif simply touches their heart. It doesn't need to be more complicated than that.

Queens –  Giclée art print by Edvarda

At the same time, we know that very few people have the opportunity to buy an original painting. There is only one original work, and the price reflects that. An art print opens the door for more people. Not as a replacement for the original, but as an opportunity to own a piece of the artist's world.

Graphic Workshop in Venice - the art of multiplying a motif

As an artist with a background in printmaking since the 1980s, this idea has followed me for a long time, even if I wasn't consciously aware of it from the beginning.

When I studied graphic techniques in Venice in the 1980s, with workshops along the Grand Canal and the world's most beautiful art history around me, the idea of reproduction was not central. It was about acquiring a craft. Learning a technique as generations of artists before us had done, not least during the Italian Renaissance. It was about material understanding, precision, and respect for the process itself.

The word "grafikk" (printmaking) comes from the Greek word "graphein" – to write, draw, or incise. I actually like that meaning. It's about leaving a mark. Incising something. Leaving an imprint.

Young woman in her rocking chair. Etching on copper plate by Edvarda 

Throughout my art education, we learned the classical graphic techniques. We carved in wood, incised metal plates for etchings, worked with serigraphy, and drew on stone for lithography. We learned to master the materials.

But looking back today, the whole idea of printmaking was precisely to multiply a motif. Historically, artists have used printmaking to spread their art to more people. It was a practical solution, but also an enormous artistic opportunity. It allowed artists to spread their thoughts, stories, and images far beyond the small circle around the original work.

Munch knew it – printmaking spreads art

Our own Edvard Munch, not least, is a good example. He was a great painter, but in my eyes, he was perhaps an even greater printmaker. Printmaking was an absolutely essential part of his artistry.

Munch's main intention was not to become the world's best at handling a specific tool. The important thing was to find different ways to convey his stories about life, humanity, and emotions. Through woodcuts, lithographs, and etchings, his motifs could reach far more people than through his original paintings alone.

Reproduction did not weaken his art – it became a way to spread it.

I myself have worked extensively with printmaking, although painting has been my primary medium. One technique that particularly fascinated me for a period was etching. I greatly enjoyed drawing on and etching metal plates. Here I found a new medium to tell my stories.

Kitchen –  Giclée art print by Edvarda (Detail)

Looking back today, I see that much of what would later become the Edvarda universe actually had its roots in these early graphic works.

Storytelling has always been my driving force – whether I have painted, drawn, or worked graphically.

Giclée – reproduction with artistic integrity

When the term giclée began to emerge in the 1990s, it was met with great skepticism – including from myself. We believed it was posters disguised as art. It lacked the physical plate, stone, or frame that printmaking had always had. There were many arguments, and the discussions could be quite vehement.

I remember them well and understood the objections.

But I also became curious.

Instead of dismissing the new technology that was emerging, I began to read up and investigate how it actually worked.

I quickly discovered that a professional giclée print has very little in common with a mass-produced poster.

A giclée print starts with an original work that is photographed with great precision. Then, the colors are carefully processed in collaboration between photographer, printer, and artist before the motif is printed with pigment inks on archival art paper or canvas. The entire process is about quality.

And naturally, this gave me a taste for the new – my paintings could have a new life. Not as copies, but as numbered art prints in limited editions. Now, more people could afford to own a motif from this series because the price and format were accessible.

Les Demoiselles d Artist - signed giclée art print by Edvarda

Traditionally, original printmaking is defined by the artist working directly with the printing plate, stone, or matrix.

But eventually, I started asking myself another question.

Isn't an etching also a reproduction?
Isn't a lithograph a reproduction?
Isn't a woodcut a reproduction?
And isn't a giclée also a reproduction?

And a giclée print is also not a poster.

A poster is produced in large quantities on inexpensive materials. A giclée print is produced with quality, accurate color reproduction, and longevity in mind. I determine the edition size. Each print is signed and numbered. It is a continuation of a tradition artists have used for centuries: to make art accessible without losing control over it.

It actually took me some time to allow myself to go this route. There were many opinions about what constituted "real" printmaking and what didn't. It was easy to be influenced by all the voices around me.

But eventually, I realized that I had to find my own path as an artist.

Kitchen –  Giclée art print by Edvarda

I have always been curious. I like to explore new expressions, new materials, and new ways of conveying images. And to create good images, and to let these also be owned by ordinary people - not just a narrow art elite.

When more people can buy an art print, art becomes more accessible. At the same time, more people become familiar with my artistry. Maybe they will buy an original work someday. Maybe they won't. Both are perfectly fine. The most important thing is that art continues to live in people's homes.

From copper plate to iPad – new tools, same hand

In parallel with giclée, I have been working increasingly digitally over the last decade.

When the iPad and the digital pen arrived, a whole new space opened up for me. Not because a machine creates the art, but because I got a new tool to draw with.

For me, this is still drawing.
It's still my hand.
It's still my gaze.
It's still my stories.

DGA art print by Edvarda drawn on iPad

The only difference is that the paper has become a screen.

I actually find digital drawing to be very close to printmaking. I draw line by line, build up the composition, search for the expression and the story – just as I did when I sat with copper plates and a printing press.

Hand-coloring – where reproduction meets uniqueness

Recently, I have tried hand-coloring a selection of motifs from my art prints that are printed on canvas. Hand-coloring appeals to me because it creates an exciting meeting between reproduction and the original. Each work gets its own small distinctive character – a hand-applied detail that means no two are exactly alike. Perhaps it is also a way to build a bridge between the original work and the art print.

Les Demoiselles d Artist, hand-colored with gold on canvas. 

Art that leaves a mark – and reaches more people

Ultimately, this is not about what we choose to call the technique.

It's about creating art that matters.

I have worked with printmaking since the 1980s, painted for decades, and in recent years, drawn digitally on the iPad. I don't see contradictions between these expressions – I see a development.

From woodcut to etching.
From lithograph to giclée.
From copper plate to iPad.

The tools have changed. The role of the artist has evolved. But my desire remains the same as when I began: to create images that leave a mark, and to make them accessible to more people.

If an art print can bring someone the same joy I had when the image was created, then it has already done its job.