Much, though by no means all, of my art is large and photo-realistic – and is intentionally made to look like photographs (although they are not simple photos – very far from it). In relation to this genre of art, you could say that I attempt to make photos – rather than simply take photos. Unlike photos, I didn’t want my art to fade – I wanted it to last as long as possible – hundreds of years – hence why I got interested in giclée printing and museum framing techniques.
I’ve been doing this form of art for quite a long time – since the noughties in fact (prior to that I was doing high-end conventional analogue photography – and I’ve always drawn and painted as a separate passion). It seemed like a god-given opportunity to me of the then new digital age – and, with my background in computing and photography, I took to it like a duck to water.
Some twenty years ago I bought what was then the best large format 44″ giclée (pronounced “zhee-clay“) printer (a very high quality printer that uses archival pigment inks on archival papers and canvases – and produces superb prints that will keep their pristine colours and vibrancy for at least 200 years under normal indoor lighting conditions). I started producing and framing largescale, highly detailed, and archival artworks (using museum-grade inks, materials and framing techniques) – some of which were accepted by the Royal Academy of Art in London (although I never got around to other galleries or outlets at the time).
My life took an absolutely terrible turn (details of which I needn’t go into) and effectively my creativity was put on hold for about a decade and a half. After fifteen years in the wilderness, I am largely recovered, re-motivated, and re-energised.
At the beginning of this year (2025) when I decided to get what is widely regarded (by those in the know) as the best large format 64″ giclée printer, the first obstacle to overcome was where on earth was I going to put it?! At 3.5m wide, 1.5m deep, just over 1m high, and weighing about 250kg – there was no room in my house (in any case it would be impossible to get it in the house because no doors are wide enough!). Also there was not enough room in my far-from-small studio/workshop because it was maxed out with tools, lasers, a CNC machine, and workbenches – besides, I wanted somewhere very clean and free of dust for highest quality printing. Building an extension to the house would have been far too expensive (and slow), so I decided to get a log cabin (that wouldn’t require a lengthy and expensive planning application).
Originally I naively hoped to get something like a 12m x 8m building, but after much searching for a good quality log cabin supplier, and the shock of how little square meterage you get for your money(!), I plumped for a 6m x 6m x 2.5m unit – that being the minimum I could usefully use and could just about afford (allowing for the fact I had a very expensive printer to buy – along with the also very expensive inks, archival printing canvas, very large workbenches, etc.). Next, I had to decide where to put it. The patch of land between the studio and the workshop seemed the best option.
I ran the proposal past the county council planning department – just to make sure it came under “Permitted Development” – which it did – so I didn’t need planning permission. I had to get the base area firstly excavated and then get a concrete base put down (this I couldn’t do myself so I used a contractor).
If I wasn’t watching the concrete base being built, only half of the base would have had a dampproof membrane – until I insisted…!
I left the ordering of the log cabin (which comes in kit form) until the base was finished. Then I (re-)looked extensively for the best quality and deal I could find. When I came to a decision it was mid August. I wanted to go with a local supplier but they couldn’t deliver until mid October. The thought of putting up the log cabin in mid autumn – with the high probability of rain, frosts, strong winds – put me off. So I checked the delivery estimate of my second choice. They said three weeks. Decision made.
Undaunted by such challenges, I decided to build the log cabin myself (from a kit) – both to save money, but also to be in total control of the quality of the build and the materials used. From quite a lot of experience, I have little faith in “handymen” – who often cut corners, do things as quickly and as cheaply as possible. I’m quite practical, patient, have some common sense, and can seek advice and/or find out anything I want to know.
I took my time – doing everything as best as I could, and using the best materials and techniques I either knew or researched. The September weather was absolutely gorgeous – sometimes too gorgeous (too hot)! I had a large tarpaulin to cover the timber over night and when it rained (which wasn’t often).
I lost quite a lot of time during the log cabin build because of receiving visitors over the North East Open Studios (NEOS) ten open days in early September (which I committed to back in January). But I like/liked meeting people interested in my art. It’s what art all about…? So whenever visitors turned up, I just downed tools, was probably filthy and stinking of sweat(!) – and gave them as much time as they wanted (which was often quite a lot).
The build was enjoyable for the most part. The instructions weren’t as clear as they could have been, the timber pieces weren’t labelled, and because many were very similar (but subtly different)- and there were unspecified spare pieces – it was very confusing at times. The most difficult part was the path leading from the drive to the log cabin – getting big and heavy concrete paving slabs to slope in two planes from level to the steep slope of the drive. But I got there in the end. It was very satisfying…
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