Inside the Tondos: Continuing the Circle Monotype Landscapes

Time flies when you’re having fun. Looking back, it’s hard to believe that nearly a year has passed since I began thinking about exploring a new format for my monotype prints. I purchased my first set of round copper plates in April 2025, and by May I was finally using them to begin what has become a new series of work I call the Tondos.

Working in a round format was a leap of faith. For over a decade, my monotypes had lived almost exclusively within a 6” × 8” rectangle, with the occasional 6” × 9”. I wasn’t sure I would be able to translate what I had been doing for ten years onto a circular surface. Still, I kept printing. From the first pulls, the Tondos pushed me into unfamiliar territory, and that sense of openness was exciting. The format presented new possibilities and forced me to rethink how my landscapes could exist within a contained, continuous edge.

I returned to my old dark ink mixture of black and sepia, a familiar palette that helped ease the transition. With this new group of works, I’m noticing a greater confidence in how I handle and shape the ink. I’m allowing more freedom of gesture, especially in areas of texture that describe foliage. The mark making has become more deliberate, aimed at creating an illusion of flickering light through leaves. In the landscape—especially on sunny days—light scatters as it filters through trees, creating something close to abstraction. Are you seeing highlights or pockets of sky? Is the light traveling through the form, or reflecting back? These questions come alive during the wiping process, as ink is removed and the plate is turned. The reflections off the copper plate begin to breathe life into the image, placing me inside those landscapes—walking, looking up, and day dreaming the worlds forming within each Tondo.

This group of Tondos was completed over the past few months and feels especially important. Compared to the volume of monotypes I’ve produced over the years, this will be a very small series. The first five sold as a group. Ten remain, and only twelve more will be added before June, when the series is scheduled to come to an end. If I’m able to maintain regular access to a press after June, the series may continue. For now, June marks my last monotype night at the Salmagundi Club, where I’ve been printing since 2014.

Even if I temporarily lose access to a press, I still have a large body of ghost prints that will keep me busy for years. The ghost print drawings have been an ongoing series and exist because of the monotype process itself. They continue to run alongside my prints, extending the life of each plate and reinforcing the connection between process, repetition, and variation that has always been central to my work.