Of all the alt processes I’ve learned and worked with, salt is the one I feel I’ve spent the most time with. From testing papers and salts to exposures and methods, most of my research lies in salted paper printing. Think of this page as a research time capsule: this will have almost everything I’ve done with salt (if it’s not up here it’s because I forgot, which happens). If you want to know my current salt practice, scroll to the bottom of the page. If you want to see every trial & error, every mistake, and every ah-ha moment, start here.

2016

Through the graces of chance and being in the right place at the right time, I found myself in Montana State's photo department, working in alt, with none other than Christina Z. Anderson.  The semester that I took her Alternative Processes class was also the semester that she relentlessly began to experiment with salted paper again (her salt findings can be found on her website, here).

I had an idea for a project on 19th century Scottish family history, and I wanted it to be authentic.  The Talbotype, a slightly earlier form of Salt, was 19th century Scotland's premiere printing process.  Thus, I dove headfirst into the world of salt.

Early on, it was brought to my attention that Salt is notoriously picky, but it was beautiful and through sheer stubbornness I was going to make it work.

Photographer's Formulary Salt Kit (an excellent option if it's your first time salt printing)

Anderson's Alt Process book, Gum Printing and Other Amazing Contact Printing Processes

• hake brush (I use a 3 1/4" brush)

• suitable paper (I used Arches Platine)

• distilled water

• salt (regular old table salt, no iodine)

• gelatin

• silver nitrate (I used a 13% dilution)

Salt is a picky process.  It's paper picky, brush picky, negative picky, chemistry picky– the list goes on.  A number of issues can crop up in a print and many of them don't become apparent until the print has been processed and dried.

2017

• Morton salt

• Morton sea salt

• Morton kosher salt— the anti-caking yellow prussiate has yet to negatively affect a print

• Pink Himalayan bath salt— the salt I bought didn't contain any additives, and none of the additional minerals present in Himalayan salt affected my prints

• Hain sea salt— unlike Morton sea salt, Hain has calcium silicate in it, but I haven't noticed anything odd in any prints

• Diamond Crystal kosher salt

  
  

• Arches Platine— this is what I used for From Where They Came

• Hahnemüle Platinum Rag— this is what I used for Riptide Nostalgia and American Mythos

• Asuka inkjet paper in white*— I tested the 75 gsm and it held up through the baths, but it does dent easily (NOTE as of 2018: while Asuka is a beautiful paper, it is unfortunately not compatible with salt)

• Masa

• Strathmore Watercolor 200 Series

• Vellum

• Natural canvas

• Cotton/Poly blends (the one I've tried is 65% cotton, 35% poly)

• Satin

• Pillowcases

• Natural muslin

• Velour— the problem with velour is that it's incredibly absorbent.

• toning in tannins/acids

  • coffee

  • green tea

  • red wine

• Sulfur and gypsum— when sulfur comes into contact with silver nitrate it creates silver sulfide. Sulfur's acidity could act as a toner, but it's water insoluble. I tried three different means of processing with sulfur and gypsum: coating at the sizing stage, coating at the sensitizing stage, and toning. The only process that procured a successful print was coating at the sensitizing stage. I mixed the sulfur/gypsum mix with water in a mortar and added that mix to silver nitrate 1:1. The resulting print is a lighter, purple-toned salt print with a grainy texture due to the silt texture of gypsum.

  • 2020 (?) update: the sulfur print is now a brown blob, which could be used to a conceptual advantage, but it isn’t archival by any means.

Believe it or not, mistakes don't necessarily go away with practice. We're all susceptible to a blunder every now and then, whether it's from working in a new space, experimenting with new materials, or just rushing it and tripping over your own feet. Mistakes happen, and that's okay. Celebrate whatever mistakes you make— they're signs of learning, after all.

Hand-colored photographs have a long history. Artists typically used oils, pastels, and watercolors to apply color to a print. You can use any of those mediums, but it's a skill set that I don't have. Thankfully in this 21st century world of ours, we have watercolor pencils. I primarily used a Faber-Castell set (this one specifically). There's a huge difference in quality from cheaper sets to more expensive sets. I started out with a $14 set of Fantasia pencils and they were fine, but the Faber-Castell set was a dream. You never really realize how many different shades you want to use until you have 60 pencils. To blend out the color, I used a #000 spotting brush. When I was starting out, I just used the flashlight on my phone to help me see where I was coloring. I tried a clip-on jeweler's magnifying loupe, but it was so heavy that my glasses just slipped off of my nose and onto my print. I then upgraded to a Vivitar LED magnifying glass, and that completely changed the hand-coloring game. I think it might be best to use a hands-free lighted magnifying glass, but the Vivitar one I used worked perfectly.

Since the images I used were originally black and white, I had nothing to go off of except for tonality. I usually tested out colors in Photoshop prior to coloring a print. Some prints ended up with way too much color, not enough color, or just the wrong color. Salt has a distinctively warm palette, and not every color will "fit" with it.

Here's a prime example of a color and subject choice that doesn't work versus one that does. The teal car became competitive with the image as a whole, while the multi-colored laundry stood out just enough (it's noticeable, but it's doesn't yell at you like that car does).

2018

Salt will always give you an opportunity to learn.

Over a year ago, I made a hand-bound drum leaf book of original salt prints. I used Asuka since it was my standard bookmaking paper. The excitement of creating a book of salt prints took over, and it never crossed my mind to test Asuka with salt (granted, this was for a project, and I had an approaching deadline). I didn't notice any issues with Asuka, so I assumed I was in the clear. If salt has an issue with your practice, it'll let you know. There wasn't anything that made me reevaluate printing on an inkjet coated paper, but here we are.

Now, a year after crafting a one of a kind book, it has come to my attention that salt does not work with Asuka. The combination of the weight of the paper and the inkjet coating did some damage over time. So, a materials update: I still recommend Asuka, but only for pigment prints. If you're going to try out a new paper, test it before you dive in head first. Do a step wedge and a print, and let it sit for a while.

2019

Alternative processes are constantly changing and evolving— I’ve modified my printing practices every year. However, I’ve failed to update my process here as it’s changed, so I’ll give you the whole kit & caboodle now:

• hake brush: I still use the same 3 1/4" Connoisseur brush, but I’ll hopefully upgrade to a Kobayashi brush soon. A coating rod is a good option if you’re looking to conserve silver nitrate.

• suitable paper: I now almost solely use Hahnemühle Platinum Rag. I still experiment with paper for salt, but my go-to will always be HPR.

• distilled water: this will always stay the same. I only use distilled water for diluting silver nitrate, but depending on your water you may have to use distilled water in your processing.

• salt: Diamond Crystal kosher salt, in a red 3lb box.

• casein: sizing is a lot of personal preference, but I absolutely love casein. It’s the easiest size to make and work with in my opinion.

• silver nitrate: I now use a 15% dilution instead of a 13%.

• ammonium chloride

• sodium citrate

• hypoclear

Casein is the only size I continually use. It’s less slimy than arrowroot and tonally warmer than gelatin (it’s also easier on your conscience compared to gelatin). This solution is best kept refrigerated. Do note that since it’s milk protien, casein has a bit of a smell and it will mold over time (use it up before it molds, it’s not a fun time. I’ve let casein mold twice now and it’s not pleasant by any means).

• 40 g ammonium caseinate (1/2 cup)

• 20 g ammonium chloride (4 teaspoons)

• 20 g sodium citrate (3 1/4 teaspoons)

• 1000 ml distilled water

This trio was made at a workshop, which is where the best mistakes happen. I’d accidentally printed a salt negative on Fixxons— I typically use Pictorico Ultra Premium OHP for salt because it can withstand a denser ink load. Of course, I still wanted to make a print with the Fixxons negative because how amazing would it be if you could just use the same OHP for every process?

I printed using the Fixxons first, and to an untrained eye or without comparison, it’s not a bad print. But as soon as you see it against a proper salt negative, it looks grey-green and washed out (do note that I used the same paper, size, brush, exposure unit, time, and process— the only differentiation was the negative).

As far as the third print goes, I brought old, moldy gelatin size with me to a workshop (this is a great way to assert your authority as an instructor). But there’s always a chance to learn! I wanted to show my students the importance of using a proper size, so I went ahead and made a print with the lumpy, moldy gelatin size and the washy Fixxons negative. The print itself is lumpy because the gelatin gloms held on, so all of those dark spots you see are raised. It could totally have some conceptual merit if you work it just right, but moldy size is pretty nasty so do with that what you will.

2021

I’m beginning to realize that I may need to rework how this page is set up, as it will eventually become impossibly long to scroll through. (also, do you totally switch it up and put updates at the top? or is the traditional timeline better? life’s eternal questions)

I will always smush my art practices together. If I could print something on ceramic, embroider it with wire, fire it, smash it, and repair it with gold, I would find a way. After dipping my toes into alcohol inks, I (obviously) immediately tried using them with alt. I already have a soft spot for gold gesso, so the unpredictability of gold alcohol ink on cotton paper is the latest White Whale.

Does it work? I mean, I made this:

Behold, the actual worst thing I have ever made. In my defense, I wanted to see how far I could push the paper with layers of rubbing alcohol and ink. But oh my god, it makes me snort. I want more artists to share their shit prints, because I know I’m not the only one out here making some absolute Dumpster Fire™ work.

I have made some truly bad prints, but this one is egregiously, garishly bad. It’s audacious in its terribleness. So, obviously, I’m going to make more.

Of course, I’m not going to leave you with one failed print. There is a successful print (granted, it’s a cyanotype so it might disrupt the salt flow, but I feel the need to redeem myself).

Note that this is still a work in progress and I have more theories to try!