Anthotypes
One of life's most gratifying experiences happens when we try something new, pushing ourselves outside of our comfort zone to explore uncharted territory.
"Doing something new is like bringing back that sense of awe that children have," psychologist and author Karyn Hall Ph.D. tells us. "You'll need to take a risk of doing something that you haven't done before."
With that in mind, I undertook a new photography project this summer: one that’s radically different from anything else I’ve done because it requires no camera, no lens – none of the tools that we typically associate with photography.
My mission: to create an anthotype.
What’s an anthotype?
The anthotype process was discovered in the early 1800s and is used to create natural, handmade images by exposing photosensitive juices from plant material to light from the sun. The word is derived from the ancient Greek words anthos (meaning “flower”) and typos (meaning “imprint”).
Although the technique involves none of the usual camera gear, it's still a form of photography – a word whose roots mean “drawing or writing with light.” An anthotype is one of the purest and simplest forms of drawing with light.
How to make an anthotype
If you'd like to try it yourself, here's a quick overview of what's involved:
STEP ONE: Gather some colorful plant material like spinach leaves, blackberries or flower petals. Add a bit of isopropyl rubbing alcohol or cheap vodka, then toss it into a blender or grind it using a mortar and pestle to create a pulpy juice.
STEP TWO: Strain the pulpy liquid through a coffee filter, then use a foam brush to spread the juice onto heavy watercolor paper and let it dry in a dark place.
STEP THREE: Arrange some leaves or other flat material on top of the dry, coated paper. Place clear glass on top of the arrangement, put a firm backing behind it and hold it all together using sturdy clips, a photo frame or a contact print frame.
STEP FOUR: Expose your glass-covered arrangement to sunlight. The sunlight will gradually bleach away the color wherever the paper is exposed. The areas covered by the leaves or other material will retain the color of the plant juice, creating a toned image.
Voila! You've made an anthotype. Although it’s a simple process, a number of variables can affect the results so you’ll want to do some homework before you get started. You’ll find lots of helpful resources online, including this article and this video.
A lesson in patience
In today's world of high-speed churning and instant gratification, anthotypes are a welcome change of pace. They're a step back in time and they require a slower, more meditative approach.
After you coat the paper with juice, you’ll need to let it dry in a dark place – typically overnight. Plan on applying at least two or three coats, allowing the paper to dry each time between coats.
Then the real waiting begins. Depending on the plant source used, it can take several days or several weeks to fully expose your anthotype. And if the weather isn't cooperating and the UV index isn't sufficiently high, you'll need to keep hitting the pause button, extending the timeframe even further.
A lesson in impermanence
Here's an important thing to know: An anthotype won't last forever. Because it's made from photosensitive plant juice, the image you've created will gradually fade away if it’s exposed to light. If you want to keep a lasting record of your work, you'll need to store your finished anthotype in a dark place, or take a picture of your artwork using a traditional camera.
Learning from mistakes
My first anthotype attempt, shown at the top of this post, had a serious flaw. I added too much rubbing alcohol to the spinach leaves, causing the juice to be too diluted — a problem which I didn’t discover until after I'd gone through the whole process and the exposure was complete.
You can imagine my disappointment when I removed the glass, lifted the leaves from the paper and saw that the area underneath the leaves was pitifully pale and weak — not at all what I was hoping for. I was able to salvage the image by cheating a bit: I took a picture of the anthotype with my digital camera, and then boosted the contrast and saturation in post-processing.
Next time, I’ll know better. I’ll use less solvent to create a more potent juice – and I’ll also stop the exposure process sooner, retaining some color and hand-brushed texture in the background before it gets overly bleached out by the sun.
The process is slow and unpredictable, but I’m glad I’ve added anthotypes to my toolkit of photographic processes. Life stays fresh when we try new things and this is an interesting, hands-on project you can do at home with minimal materials. Ready to give it a shot? I'd love to see your results.
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