By definition, a misprint is an error,
a fault,
a mistake,
an inaccuracy,
an omission,
a slip,
a blunder
or even a fallacy.
The prefix alone indicates that it is something negative.
For generations of printers, the aim has been to perfect the result,
to strive for impeccable reproduction – over and over again.
And when this fails, hundreds of sheets of paper are
discarded, unwanted, rejected –
because they were slightly different.
But there is no such thing as a misprint.
Unlike my fellow printers – I don’t see fault in the imperfect.
On the contrary, differences and dissimilitudes fascinate me.
They create a new dynamic on paper,
a human touch to the formalities of the mechanical
In a world where industrial reproduction wants to smoothen
anything and everything,
I find comfort in the quirks of a [mis]print.
That is why my bin is empty.
The words from a coffee break –
find their way into my printing press.
Verses from poems,
mismatched typographies,
vinyl discs
and bottle caps,
if it fits – it prints.
The result is not random, nor is it fully intentional;
I have given the control over to the press,
Because the printer is recalcitrant.
I mix alphabets, haphazardly, to form new ones,
an imperfectly contemporary family of letters - sans and serif.
Idiosyncratically I am neither artist nor craftsman
– and this isn’t even my hobby.
I experiment the unknown, playing with tools from the past,
teaching them new tricks.
Old machines – new ink.
Spontaneous, uncompromising and maximalist.
This is how I print.
