STORMS NEVER LAST
It was at this time, however, that the sun began to peek over the horizon and shine on Hatch. Some key jobs came in, such as Emmylou Harris’s Grammy-winning live album At the Ryman, and an MCA series of 15 CDs featuring members of the Hall of Fame, for which Sherraden carved traditional Hatch-style portraits of the artists. These jobs not only returned Hatch to printing commercially, but also provided outstanding exposure that began to turn the ship. This was also the time when Sherraden began hand printing or “re-striking” the large, old wood blocks on acid-free art stock to preserve them. When visitors began asking to purchase prints, business picked up.

When composing his works, “I don’t sketch as much as I mark on the back where I hope to hell it falls after my careful placement on the press,” says Sherraden.

“That carved imagery rose to play a higher part. It looked and seemed so comfortable on that Stonehenge and that Arches instead of the old, slick, slap-it-up-with-horse-paste paper,” says Sherraden. The new audience spurred him to begin creating posters for the shop’s patrons, thus celebrating the archive for the public’s ongoing interest in letterpress.

THERE’S NOT ANY LIKE YOU LEFT
Although their new technology consists of a pink rotary phone and one computer for non-design needs, Hatch Show Print’s unparalleled aesthetic, which conjoins disparate generations of imagery, is winning work away from major design firms. In a design field where technology bites at our heels like a dog, it is near impossible to maintain early 20th century work processes. But the Hatch team prides itself on antediluvian ways, which are not for show. They allow the shop to run as it always has, and with steadfast determination and grace they pull it off. Sherraden observes, “I know one of us at least once a day says, ‘We don’t offer four-color proofs because it is not congruous with how the shop operates in letterpress.’” What they do offer is a tiled black-and-white proof, faxed to the customer to assemble and approve. When this has not satiated higher profile clients, some have flown in for an over-the-shoulder approval … and a convenient excuse to visit the shop.

With over 600 custom jobs a year for clients as diverse as a science fair, a paper promotion, a local band or Jack Daniels, there’s a lot of work. Because Hatch is a nonprofit working museum, budgets are tight and time is short, so interns and staff alike are worked hard. Their reward comes in the form of the opportunity to have a true apprenticeship and work with an important archive under the gaze of a man who wants his staff to learn the craft authentically and understand the significance of the collection.

Although Sherraden passionately polices the practices and makes sure the work is in keeping with the Hatch tradition, he gives staff as much creative freedom as he can. “I try not to reign [the work] in at all, but I gotta laugh at all the negative space that’s coming through the place … I have to gnash my teeth sometimes and look the other way.”

For interns, stepping into the shop can be disorienting at first. They must abandon some of what they learned on-screen, since the letterpress design process is much more restrictive than InDesign. Most seem to acclimate quickly, however, and their 21st century technical sophistication is a huge asset to the shop. The clientele has become more sophisticated, so having a team that can communicate on all levels is invaluable. “The staff all have their college degrees now in print making or graphic design, and that never was the case before,” says Sherraden. “You had these great blue-collar guys, and you had Mai Fulton the bookkeeper, and they took their lunch in a box to work, and they probably didn’t call themselves designers, either. Now you’ve got a whole younger staff, a staff that I think has an inherent enjoyment of what they’re able to do with their hands other than peck at keys on a keyboard.” It’s pretty hard to complain when you’ve spent your day designing and printing a tour poster.

YOU PUT THE SOUL IN THE SONG
As if running Hatch were not enough to max anyone out, Sherraden has found a more personal way of celebrating the archive. In 1992 he began printing monoprints after realizing that beautiful imagery could be achieved through the juxtaposition of multiple unrelated plates. This insight came about one day when his test sheets, which had been used for several different designs, revealed their intricate beauty.

Because Sherraden’s monoprints are a tribute to the shop, he uses only tools that are indigenous to the printmaking business, which includes presses and brayers, much like one of his favorite printmakers Henrik Nicolaas Werkman. Triple Elvis (32 x 41 in.), 2005

Early on his work was more experimental and random, but with the advice of a friend he quickly realized that to make works of merit, he had to instill in his pieces a personal interpretation of the collection. Sherraden now begins the process with a theme and draws from the extensive archive to compose and choreograph messages and meanings. Like any skilled craftsman or artist, Sherraden’s thoughtful compositions make it look easy, but getting everything to line up and fit is the reward of copious amounts of math and careful planning … and these are only the initial steps. After the basic composition is in place, he goes back into the pieces, time and again. Layer upon layer, he builds complex compositions with the brayer and organic pigments that he mixes with transparent ink and mineral spirits to get particular patinas. These wondrous works of undulating hues offer viewers a new discovery each time they return to them. As the light changes, under-printings become more evident, and negative spaces reveal unexpected jewels.

It may seem odd that a songwriter would be able to shift gears into this new role so seamlessly, but in essence what he is doing now is the visual equivalent of what he was doing so successfully in his previous career: bringing meaning to preexisting matter. Whether writing lyrics for Scandinavian folk-rock artist Jonas Fjeld or local rockers The Claimstakers, Sherraden enjoyed working within the confines of the music and was rarely involved in changing any of the melodies. The unpredictability of the music business, however, proved to be too much. “I decided that I needed to focus on a vocation where I relied on fewer people for my future. As a Gemini, I needed a melody writer for the lyrics, and I now rely on the archive of a dead man for the printmaking.” Today, he works within the confines of the archive, a challenge that’s spurred a collection of distinctive work. With 24 one-man shows from France and the Netherlands to Santa Fe and Seattle, his work is finding its audience, and collectors in the know are scooping it up.

“I sometimes wish we could do more with it, there’s so much in there,” he says. Each monoprint is done as a tribute to the shop—a shop with a soul. Stepping across the threshold, one can’t help but feel the enormity of history. With 5500 square ft. packed stem to stern with type and imagery—one wall alone measuring 54 ft. long by 14½ ft. tall—there is clearly enough material for several lifetimes of work.

ONE PIECE AT A TIME
Sherraden has seen each significant step of the shop’s metamorphosis, from a silent version of its former self to a cultural destination working full steam. Still, he feels there is much to do. The next big step is to tackle cataloging the archive, which got put on hold when business picked up. But before he can take this on, he must feel he can step away from the day-to-day working shop and leave it in the hands of the “next generation,” which will come with time, and with funding, which takes time. Until then, he’s chestdeep working the shop, mentoring the interns, lecturing throughout the country, showing his monoprints around the globe and making time for anyone who asks.

Above all else, Sherraden’s hope for the shop is that the Hatch Show Print heritage continues, and it is those who understand its value who will help him achieve this goal. “I dreamed last night that the shop had to move again,” he tells me. “I have these dreams every now and then, and I can recall them to this minute, and I can see the other buildings that we were in. They’re always old buildings, but there’s always something wrong. I just realized this, there’s always something wrong that makes it hard for the people to get in and see it. Because it’s the people, it’s the customers that keep it going.” So much more than a job.