Ellsworth Kelly, 1923–2015


Ellsworth Kelly at Tyler Graphics Ltd., Bedford Village, New York, 1976. Photo: Barbara Crutchfield



The art world mourns the loss of American abstractionist Ellsworth Kelly, who passed away on 27 December 2015 at the age of 92.

Amongst the many print editions Kelly produced with Ken Tyler between 1970 and 1980, the Colored paper images of 1976 are unique for their richly textured surfaces and nuanced fields of colour. Here we share Assistant Curator Julia Greenstreet’s discussion of this landmark project, recently published in Workshop: The Kenneth Tyler Collection.


My work has always been about vision, the process of seeing … I’ve always been interested in things that I see that don’t make sense out of context, that lead you into something else.[i]

For six decades across painting, sculpture and print, Ellsworth Kelly has explored and elucidated a fundamental pillar of the human experience—our perception of the world around us. Despite its abstract vocabulary of flat, simple shapes and prismatic colour, Kelly’s art is grounded in observed form; a distillation of unassuming sources such as barn doors, shadows falling on a flight of stairs, or a crushed paper cup, into their essential shapes.

From 1970 to 1980 Kelly worked with Tyler at both Gemini GEL and TGL to produce editions in a range of new techniques that extended his distinctive vocabulary. However it was with the Colored paper images—made entirely of coloured, pressed paper pulp—that Kelly truly broke new ground. When he decided he no longer wanted to make an edition of collage aquatints as originally planned, Tyler was quick to propose an alternative, taking the artist on a visit to the HMP paper mill and providing him with samples from his treasured collection of handmade Japanese papers. As Tyler recalls, ‘the rest was up to Kelly … We began very modestly. Kelly brought these samples home, and we played’.[ii] What began as ‘play’ developed into an eight-month long collaboration between Kelly, Tyler and HMP’s John and Kathleen Koller, resulting in a series of 23 variant editions.

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Ellsworth Kelly and Kenneth Tyler during the ‘Colored paper images’ project, Tyler Graphics Ltd., Bedford Village, New York, 1976. Photos: Betty Fiske


Colored paper images was the first TGL project executed exclusively in paper pulp[iii] and Kelly’s first foray into the medium. Tyler wanted to extend beyond standard manufactured dyes in order to provide Kelly with ‘a new palette of colors for papermaking’[iv] and proceeded to research various types of colouring agents and their properties, from powdered pigments to acrylic gouaches. Of the 75 colours Tyler developed, Kelly used 50. Images were created by spooning cotton pulp onto a wet base sheet through image moulds constructed from bent metal rulers, strips of wood and plexiglass. When placed under pressure in the press the coloured pulp shapes and white base sheet fused together, causing dyes to seep beyond the boundaries of form in diaphanous veils of colour.

65353      40438(left) Ellsworth Kelly, ‘Colored paper image II (dark green curves)’, 1976, paper pulp, National Gallery of Australia, Canberra, purchased 1979 © Ellsworth Kelly (right) Ellsworth Kelly, ‘Colored paper image X (blue with gray)’, 1976, paper pulp, National Gallery of Australia, Canberra, purchased 1977 © Ellsworth Kelly


This marked an astonishing departure from the rigorous linearity characteristic of Kelly’s oeuvre. Pristine finishes were relinquished in favour of the richly textured surfaces of pressed paper pulp. Loosely hand-mixed pulps transformed into nuanced colour fields, as in the delicate amorphous clouds of Colored paper image X (blue with grey) and Colored paper image II (dark green curves). While this emphasis on textured surfaces was unprecedented in Kelly’s print oeuvre, curator Richard Axsom notes that it was connected to ideas of random surface effects the artist had been exploring in weathering steel and wood sculptures.[v]

The Colored paper images stand as a landmark in both Kelly’s practice and that of TGL. In addition, they played a significant role in encouraging other artists to experiment with paper pulp; David Hockney, for example, was inspired to produce his influential series of paper works, Paper pools, after seeing Kelly’s ‘stunningly beautiful’[vi] pieces. Appearing on the cover of an American Artist issue dedicated to ‘the revolution in paper’, the Colored paper images were hailed as representing ‘a new mode of expression’.[vii]


Ellsworth Kelly, ‘Colored paper image XVI (blue/yellow/red)’, 1976, paper pulp, National Gallery of Australia, Canberra, purchased 1977 © Ellsworth Kelly



Workshop: The Kenneth Tyler Collection is available from the NGA shop and online.

[i] Ellsworth Kelly quoted in Siri Engberg, ‘Ellsworth Kelly’, in Joan Rothfuss and Elizabeth Carpenter (eds), Bits & pieces put together to present a semblance of a whole: Walker Art Center collections, Walker Art Center, Minneapolis, 2005, p 315, originally published in Mark Rosenthal (ed), Artists at Gemini GEL, Harry N Abrams Inc, New York, 1993, p 83.

[ii] Ken Tyler quoted in Marlene Schiller, ‘Footnotes: the cover’, American Artist, August 1977, p 12.

[iii] Ronald Davis’s 1975 Intaglio print series combined handmade and coloured paper with intaglio printing, while Frank Stella’s Paper reliefs series of paper pulp reliefs of the same year incorporated collage and handcolouring.

[iv] Ellsworth Kelly: Colored paper images, Tyler Graphics Ltd, Bedford Village, 1976, unpaginated.

[v] Richard Axsom, The prints of Ellsworth Kelly: a catalogue raisonné 1949–1985, Hudson Hills Press, New York, in association with the American Federation of Arts, 1987, p 116.

[vi] David Hockney quoted in Jane Kinsman, The art of collaboration: the big Americans, National Gallery of Australia, Canberra, 2002, p 57, originally published in Nikos Stangos (ed), David Hockney: Paper pools, Thames and Hudson, London, 1980, p 100.

[vii] Schiller, p 6.

Claes Oldenburg’s ‘Profile Airflow’ gets some TLC


Claes Oldenburg’s Profile Airflow 1969 was the first of numerous innovative multiples (three-dimensional sculptural editions) the artist created in collaboration with Gemini GEL in the early 1970s. Inspired by original drawings of the iconic 1936 Chrysler Airflow, Oldenburg created a lithograph over which sits a translucent plastic relief of the car. Achieving Oldenburg’s desire for a relief that was ‘transparent like a swimming pool, but of a consistency like flesh’[1] was no easy task and required considerable research and experimentation.[2] Complex to produce, the work has also proved complex and time-consuming to conserve, as today’s post reveals. Objects Conservator Sarah Mchugh shares with us the painstaking process of treating Profile Airflow, which took two years to complete.

The work consists of a lithograph on paper stretched onto a wooden strainer, over the front of which sits a moulded relief in elastomeric (rubbery), translucent green polyurethane. It has two main problems. Firstly, the polyurethane is attached to the strainer by screws that are close to the edge and it has torn at these points due to the pull of its own weight, meaning the work couldn’t hang vertically as it’s supposed to.

Secondly, the polyurethane is deteriorating and the surface has become extremely sticky, with a layer of dust consequently adhering to it. Plastic is often thought to last forever but from a conservation perspective it actually doesn’t last long at all. Plastics are also quite difficult to clean as components of the plastic may be dissolved in different solvents, causing further problems.


I began by examining and documenting the work, and undertaking research to find the best method of repair. One technique I used was to test the polymer using FTIR (Fourier Transform Infrared Spectroscopy) to confirm its composition.

I found a private conservator in the U.S. who had cleaned another Profile Airflow (the work was produced in an edition of 75) with the same sticky surface problem. She had undertaken extensive research and testing and very generously shared her results with me. I cleaned the work with an isopropanol solution, which removed the dust, but the surface remained sticky. To prevent dust adhering again, it was decided in consultation with Senior Curator Jane Kinsman to commission a custom frame with a Perspex front.

To repair and re-secure the polyurethane to the strainer I developed a method that would require the least amount of permanent change to the object and be least visually obtrusive. I sourced a clear elastomeric polyurethane and made a sample which I artificially aged with UV light to give an indication of how long it would last. Finding that it was acceptable I then used the adhesive to repair tears in the polyurethane and to attach large tabs of Mylar™ (polyester film) to the underside of the polyurethane that wraps around the strainer. The tabs are now taking the weight of the relief.

As a result the original look of the work as the artist intended has been restored, and it is now displayable – the surface isn’t obscured by a layer of dust and it can hang vertically on the wall. It looks gorgeous!

We can’t wait to see the refreshed Profile Airflow in the new displays of International Art opening at the National Gallery of Australia in December.


Visit the website for photographs of this and other Oldenburg multiples in production.

In 2010 Oldenburg’s Ice bag – scale B also underwent conservation treatment: read more.

[1] Claes Oldenburg, in David Platzker, Claes Oldenburg: Multiples in retrospect 1964-1990, New York: Rizzoli, 1991, p.84.

[2] Read Emilie Owens’ discussion of Profile Airflow in the newly released publication Workshop: The Kenneth Tyler Collection, Canberra: National Gallery of Australia, 2015, p.171.

If this chair could talk

Spanning nearly four decades, the history of the Tyler workshops is a rich and complex one, weaving together artists, printers, papermakers, industry collaborators, photographers, writers, film makers, curators, family and friends. Over the years, many of these people sat, mused and even worked in an antique barber’s chair carefully selected by Ken Tyler for the studio. In today’s post, Tyler reveals the story of this unusual workshop fixture.



In 1965, when I set up the Gemini Ltd. artist’s studio, I decided to have an antique Koken barber’s chair.  It’s an ingenious throne-like device, levitating hydraulically and swiveling, as well as reclining.  In classic barbershop lore from the turn of the century, it was considered the pinnacle of innovation (1892 was when the pedaled version of the hydraulic lift device was introduced), elegance, comfort, and outstanding craftsmanship…an achievement in industrial design.  Like the Eiffel Tower, it celebrates Viollet-le-Duc’s ideas of ‘honest structural expression and the embracing of modern technology.’  For me, it is the ideal place from which an artist can contemplate their work as it is pinned on the studio walls and scattered across the floor, within a workshop that also embraces modern technology.

The antique dealer I originally spoke with informed me that Teddy Roosevelt had his hair cut in the chair I was purchasing.  He demonstrated the hydraulics by having me sit, relax, and listen to him as he intoned,‘Going u-uu-uuu-uuup, 1st floor: shoes, booze, and nothing to lose. 2nd floor: pants, endless lessons in dance, wild romance.  3rd floor: tops, cigars right-outta-the-box, lookout for da cops.  4th floor: hats and crowns, place one upon your head to astound.’

Sure enough, the chair made me feel like a potentate…or a President.  After all, the chair itself is a work of art, made from enameled cast iron parts, and nickeled steel.  It has a spring cushion on the seat, covered in fine leather.  There is a headrest that is adjustable, as well as a sophisticated articulated foot rest, that ornately carries the KOKEN name in its design.  In fact, the President model of the chair from 1910, which is the chair I chose, is pictured in the 1912 Koken Barber Supply catalogue in color, with The White House in the background.

When I found myself setting up another artist’s studio upon opening Tyler Graphics in 1974, I once again decided to provide the ‘inner sanctum’ of the workshop with another Koken barber’s chair.  This time, the antique dealer waxed poetic about how the model I was purchasing was more elegant by far than the one made famous in 1957, when the infamous mobster, Albert Anastasia, was groomed and then abruptly riddled with bullets while seated in one in the then swanky barbershop at the Park Sheraton Hotel in New York City.  That particular ‘well ventilated’ chair became part of a mob memorabilia collection in St. Louis, until it was then purchased by legendary comedian Henny Youngman.  Youngman sold the chair eventually to Artie Nash, a noted New York mob artifact collector.  (By the way, I recently discovered that Nash was instrumental in placing the chair in the Las Vegas Mob Museum.)
Thankfully, the model gracing Tyler Graphics was from a gentler era, and carried curvilinear Art Nouveau ornamentation inspired by nature, including the pedestal, which gracefully carried the chair like a lotus blossom.  Every artist working at Tyler Graphics gravitated to the chair, spending hours and days, and in Frank Stella’s case, years contemplating their artwork as it evolved.

After we moved all operations to Singapore in 2001 and set up the Singapore Tyler Print Institute (which opened in 2002), the Tyler Graphics barber chair was re-installed there.  Now it resides in Singapore.

Vale William Crutchfield (1932–2015)

Ken Tyler reflects on William Crutchfield – teacher, friend, confidant and collaborator

As a close friend, I’ve been exceptionally fortunate to have known Bill for fifty two years. We collaborated on various print and sculptural projects from 1963 to 2000. He was a talented artist, excelling as a draftsman, sculptor and printmaker. His witty, warm and inimitable personality is evident in his work and personal relationships.

I first met Bill in 1963, on my first day at John Herron School of Art in Indianapolis, Indiana, as a newly-enrolled graduate student. He was assisting Garo Antreasian with printing a large lithography stone in the printmaking studio. Bill had just returned from Germany as a Fulbright Scholar at the State Art Academy in Hamburg and had joined the faculty of Herron as a drawing instructor. During my year at Herron, earning a Masters degree, I studied lithography and painting with Antreasian and drawing with Crutchfield. Bill and I immediately recognized our shared interests in many creative areas as well as our similarities; we both were from the Midwest and were born weeks apart.


After graduating from Herron and receiving a Ford Foundation grant to The Tamarind Lithography Workshop in Los Angeles in June of 1963, we met again when Bill did a guest lithography print, titled Mr. No at Tamarind. Our paths were destined to continue crossing. From 1963 to 2000, we collaborated on prints and sculptural multiples in my four workshops, Gemini Ltd, Gemini GEL in Los Angeles, and Tyler Graphics Ltd. in Bedford and Mt. Kisco, New York.

In 1966, I invited Bill to Gemini to do a series of thirteen lithos, which were very successful and made it possible for him and his wife, Barbara to move to L.A. Bill frequently visited the workshop, photographing and socializing with other visiting artists while continuing to make prints with me. For example, he documented many exciting collaborations in his drawings that he made for the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Art and Technology catalog. We travelled to the East Coast together, meeting with Josef and Anni Albers and other artists with whom I was publishing. He accompanied me on many of my visits to manufacturing firms that I was working with on artist projects. Bill was able to use some of these firms for his own sculptural works. As a trusted confidant, we exchanged many views on collaboration and the state of printmaking at the time. During even light-hearted chats, he always had insight, adding depth and his unique, often whimsical viewpoint.

After I left L.A. in 1974 and started my new workshop, TGL, in Bedford, NY, we kept in close touch. On several visits to Bedford in the 70s, Bill made large color lithographs of trains and ships and worked with pattern makers for making bronze castings of sculptures of numerals and letters.

When Marabeth and I started work on the Singapore Tyler Print Institute (STPI) project in the late 90s, I had many conversations with Bill about the project. In 1999 I commissioned Bill to commemorate the planned opening in 2000 of STPI with a color lithograph. With his usual satirical style, he composed an image of all the workshop presses and equipment being towed by a series of barges across the ocean from NYC to Singapore, with Marabeth and I at the helm of the ship and dolphins swimming at our side, welcoming us into the Singapore harbor.

I wish I could draw a similar image of all of Bill’s works being towed to some place for all to see the wonderful body of work he joyfully made in his lifetime. For those of us who were fortunate to have known and worked with William Crutchfield, we will continue to be rewarded by enjoying his art and our wealth of memories.



Sid Avery: stars on camera

The 1976 documentary film Reaching out: Ken Tyler, master printer takes viewers into renowned print workshop Gemini GEL, Los Angeles, providing us with behind-the-scenes footage of master printer Ken Tyler at work with Roy Lichtenstein and David Hockney. Along with author Michael Crichton, they discuss artistic philosophies and Tyler’s collaborations with major contemporary American artists.

One half of the film’s directorial team,[1] Sid Avery (1918-2002), also happened to be a celebrity photographer notable for his ability to capture some of Hollywood’s biggest stars – Elizabeth Taylor, Marlon Brando, Frank Sinatra – in refreshingly intimate, candid moments. An article by Michael Callahan in Vanity Fair last year titled ‘Hollywood’s private eye’ paid homage to Avery’s achievements and shared some of the intriguing stories behind his celebrated shots. Be sure to have a read.

The Tyler Photographic Collection is fortunate to have a number of photographs taken in 1973 by Avery during the filming of Reaching out, some highlights of which we share here. Not only important visual records of the printmaking process, the photos give us a glimpse of the unique relationship between Tyler and Hockney; a collaboration which spanned almost three decades.


[1] Lee Tirce and Sid Avery of Avery/Tirce Productions.

The prints of Anni Albers: line involvements

  Julia Greenstreet, Curatorial Assistant, Kenneth Tyler Collection, reflects on the prints of Anni Albers – one of the 20th century’s most influential textile artists and a brilliant printmaker.

Anni Albers (1899 – 1994) began her career as a weaver and only turned to printmaking when she was in her sixties. At the core of both her textiles and prints are a set of fundamental principles established during her years at the Bauhaus Weaving Workshop which guide her creative process and approach to making. Albers’s is an art based on the pursuit of universality and timelessness, anonymity rather than individualism, an intimate knowledge of and respect for materials and techniques, and a playful sense of order and balance.

Much like her introduction to weaving as a young artist, Albers’s first encounter with printmaking was not planned. Her career in the graphic arts began with a serendipitous visit in 1963 to Tamarind Lithography Workshop, Los Angeles, an institution at the forefront of a revival in fine art printmaking which was taking place in the United States at that time. It was not an interest in lithography that brought Albers there, but rather her husband Josef, who was working at Tamarind as a Fellow and whom she would often accompany. Aware of Albers’s talents as a textile artist, Tamarind’s Director June Wayne encouraged her to try lithography for herself.

This proved to be a watershed moment in the artist’s career; Albers was instantly seduced by the possibilities of printmaking. After 40 years of weaving, Albers could ‘take a line for a walk’[1] like never before. She said of this period, ‘I found that, in lithography, the image of threads could project a freedom I had never suspected.’[2] The artist’s joy in this newfound freedom is evident in her first print edition, the Line involvements suite of six lithographs. These works are uncharacteristically painterly and loose in structure, featuring billowing washes for the ground and dynamic arabesques created by thread-like forms. With the flourish of a painter the ground was created by etching with acid, applying crayon with a rag, or streaking with lithographic tusche.

After 1963, Albers never again worked on a weaving herself (although she did occasionally design textiles).[3] Over the course of a prolific career spanning 40 years, textile design and appreciation had blossomed at her hands, however for Albers it was time to take on a new challenge and she focussed solely on printmaking until her death in 1994. She worked with Ken Tyler for the first time at Gemini GEL in 1970, marking the beginning of what was to become a fruitful, close collaborative relationship with the master printer.

A central tenet of Albers’s artistic philosophy is a Bauhausian commitment to anonymity over individualism. The reasoning behind this was that by denying the presence of the artist to create a ‘form unburdened by dominantly individual traits of the planner,’[4] and not dictated by fashions or trends, universal and timeless beauty could be attained. This is what Albers wanted for her art and design, whether in weaving or print. Lasting art is located in the process, an idea she articulated best in 1947 when she wrote:

The more we avoid standing in the way of the material and in the way of tools and machines, the better chance we have that our work will not be dated, will not bear the stamp of too limited a period of time and be old-fashioned some day…And it will outlast fashions only if it embodies lasting, together with transitory, qualities.[5]

Albers’s pursuit of anonymous form and her fascination with machines and technology was perfectly aligned with the mechanical processes of print, which could produce works of a highly polished, industrial aesthetic. Ken Tyler had a reputation for ‘technical wizardry’ and for producing prints of the highest quality; his workshop was a state-of-the-art facility with the best presses and expert staff, and his in-depth knowledge of print technology combined with his sense of adventure made him the perfect printer for Albers.

The first series Albers made with Tyler was Triadic. These works feature the triangle, a key, recurring motif in Albers’s oeuvre. All three are made from the same master design, but printed in different colour palettes, or in the case of TR III, embossed onto a silkscreened gold ground. Lithography allowed Albers to create triangles of perfect linearity, which must have given her quite a kick after years of employing not-quite-straight triangles in her weavings.

As a student Albers was greatly influenced by Goethe’s Metamorphosis of plants,[6] which explains the structure of organisms as being made up by repeated yet varied like units. Albers came to define weaving as the ‘building up out of a single element, to building a whole out of single elements,’[7] much like architecture. She utilised this approach in her printmaking too; in the Triadic series triangles function as individual units from which a whole composition is built.

These works are interesting for the way in which they achieve balance and harmony without relying on formula or symmetry. Taking her cue from structures of the natural world, Albers ultimately aims to create order in her art, but an order, ‘in a not too obvious way, an order puzzling to the onlooker, so that he will return again and again […] mystery is what draws us to art.’[8] It is this mystery that intrigues and makes us want to take another look.

Albers experiments with texture in TR III, where embossing is used to create a sculptural surface of raised and lowered planes. In doing so the artist brings some of the tactility and texture of her woven work to screenprinting, which is an inherently flat medium. She continued this idea in the 1978 series Mountainous, produced by embossing white paper with incised copper plates. These works have an airy, open quality which is emphasised by the absence of colour. A hallmark of Albers’s graphic work is an ambiguous relationship between figure and ground and these works are wonderful examples of that push and pull.

While Albers always maintained a self-effacing approach to art making, her works are nevertheless personal expressions reflecting a reality, and in the title of this series – Mountainous – she evokes the Andean mountains or monumental ancient sites in Mexico which she had visited so many times. Rather than relying on representational imagery to convey meaning, Albers uses abstract visual forms.

In 1976 Albers visited Ken Tyler at his new workshop in Bedford Village, New York. At Tyler’s suggestion, Albers – now in her late seventies – tried etching for the first time. The resultant Triangulated intaglios series features etching and aquatint, two common intaglio techniques. Triangulated intaglio III uses both, with solid black triangles in aquatint balanced against subtle areas of etched dots. Albers organises these elements within the pictorial field contained by the embossed edge, which is created during the printing process. This edge was a feature of intaglio that Albers particularly liked as it provided a process-based solution as to how to focus and contain her designs. She has stated that the printing was as important to her artwork as the initial design concept,[9] emphasising the significance of process to her work.


Triangulated intaglio IV and Triangulated intaglio II are based on the same design but IV was printed in red ink in the opposite areas to where black appears in II, switching the figure-ground relationship entirely and consequently producing two distinct results. In Triangulated intaglio VI the tessellated shapes of the other works are replaced by a maze-like line design, showing just how versatile and inventive Albers could be within the confines of the grid.


[1] Paul Klee, quoted in Nicholas Fox Weber, ‘Anni Albers to date’ The woven and graphic art of Anni Albers (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press 1985) p 19.

[2] Anni Albers, from an interview with Gene Baro, Anni Albers (Brooklyn: The Brooklyn Museum 1977) p 7

[3] Richard S. Field, ‘Anni Albers: prints and drawings’ The woven and graphic art of Anni Albers (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press 1985) p 131

[4] Anni Albers, On weaving (London: Studio Vista Ltd. 1966) p 78

[5] Anni Albers, ‘Design: anonymous and timeless’ Magazine of Art vol.40 no.2 February 1947, pp 51-53.

[6] Nicholas Fox Weber, Anni Albers’ Anni Albers (Brooklyn: The Brooklyn Museum 1977) p 12

[7] Oral history interview with Anni Albers, 1968 July 5, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.

[8] Anni Albers, from an interview with Gene Baro, Anni Albers (Brooklyn: The Brooklyn Museum 1977) p 8-9

[9] Nicholas Fox Weber, ‘Anni Albers as a printmaker’ The prints of Anni Albers: a catalogue raisonné, 1963-1984 (Bethany, Connecticut: The Josef and Anni Albers Foundation 2009) p 18

Direct from the source: Ken Tyler on Roy Lichtenstein

Roy Lichtenstein: Pop remix may have shut its doors but for those interested in the Pop master and his working methods, there’s more! Ken Tyler and Marabeth Cohen-Tyler’s visit to the National Gallery of Australia in July last year presented a significant opportunity to learn more about Roy Lichtenstein and his print projects direct from Tyler, the master printer with whom he had a long and fruitful collaboration. Video and audio content captured during this visit is now available on the website, giving audiences access to a first-hand perspective on Lichtenstein and the Tyler workshops.

In conjunction with the opening of Pop remix, Ken presented a rich and insightful lecture elucidating his experiences of working with the artist, fondly titled ‘Reflections on Roy the happy art maker 1969-1994’. Audio and supporting material from this lecture can be accessed here.


A highlight of Pop remix was undoubtedly the 1976 Entablature series of mixed-media prints in which Lichtenstein put classical architectural elements through his own unique Pop Art filter. Produced over two years, the series incorporates screenprinting, lithography, collage and embossing and represents the pinnacle of technical complexity in Lichtenstein’s collaboration with Tyler and the staff at Tyler Graphics. In the video below, Ken outlines some of the many challenges the team encountered during the making of these ground-breaking prints.


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