Exploring the Tondo: A New Chapter in My Monotype Practice

In my ongoing journey as a landscape artist, experimentation and evolution are at the heart of my studio practice. My latest monotype series marks a shift—not in subject, but in format. For the first time, I’m working in the tondo, a round shape with deep roots in art history, and one that feels refreshingly new within the world of monotype printmaking.

The seed for this series was planted back in 2020, during the quiet days of lockdown. I had made two simple round sketches in my sketchbook, originally imagining them as studies for future circular paintings. At the time, the idea of translating those compositions into monotypes never crossed my mind—mostly because round copper plates aren’t exactly easy to come by in art supply stores.

Those sketches sat dormant for years, tucked away but not forgotten.

Luke Adam Hawker’s process of Brigid & the Oak, inspiration for my new tondos

The turning point came unexpectedly, inspired by the work of British artist Luke Adam Hawker. I’ve long admired his beautiful gestural pen-and-ink drawings of trees and watched his artistic evolution with great interest. Recently, he began translating his drawings into etchings—a process I’m intimately familiar with—and in a video he shared, I noticed something that stopped me in my tracks: a beautifully round copper plate etched with a majestic tree. It was elegant, haunting, and deeply inspiring. I didn’t yet know why it affected me so strongly, but I knew it did.

Then came a second nudge—this time at the monthly monotype party at the Salmagundi Club. Artist Patricia Wynne handed me a small, round plexiglass plate to experiment with drypoint at home. As soon as I held it, everything clicked: the tondo format was calling me. Luke’s copperplate resurfaced in my mind, and I knew it was time to revisit those old sketches in a new medium.

Thanks to a bit of luck and a well-timed search, I found round copper plates online (thank you, Amazon!) and within days, two shiny new tondos arrived at my studio. Those two copper plates sat on my studio desk for about a month, eagerly waiting to be worked on. I’d glance at them often—sometimes with anticipation, other times with hesitation—until finally the time came on May 6.

My first two round monotypes came to life about two months ago—and I was thrilled with the results. The response online, particularly on Instagram, has been overwhelmingly positive. I even received interest from a potential corporate client who may acquire a set of five. Encouraged by the reception, I created three more works the following month to build a cohesive group.

What makes this tondo monotype series stand out is how it subtly shifts my perspective as a landscape artist. While my earlier work often focused on clusters of trees in the foreground, this new set pulls back slightly. The compositions feel more open, the distance greater, inviting the viewer into a broader emotional space while still maintaining my intimate connection with nature. I’m also revisiting older imagery—motifs that have stayed with me over the years and have found a renewed place in my work. The round format has a unique presence; I’ve been told it feels like looking through a portal or peephole, which naturally draws the viewer in. That circular frame seems to heighten intimacy, curiosity, and contemplation all at once.

So, what’s next? I’m contemplating a move toward more vibrant color palettes and possibly creating detailed tree portraits seen from below—letting the branches stretch and dominate the round frame. But for now, nothing is finalized. I’m embracing the freedom that this new format offers and letting the work guide me forward.

This tondo series is more than a new format—it's a fresh lens on a familiar obsession: the landscape. And as with all meaningful shifts in art, it began quietly, with a sketch, a sign, and a spark.

Stay tuned—there’s more to come.