Artist Proofs in Screenprinting: What A/P Really Means

You'll see it in pencil beneath a print. A/P. Or sometimes E/A if the artist trained in Europe.

Artist proof.

It sounds special. Galleries often charge more for them. But after twenty-six years pulling screens, I can tell you the reality is both simpler and more interesting than most collectors realise.

What an artist proof actually is

An artist proof is a print from the same screens, same inks, same paper as the numbered edition. Traditionally, these were working copies. You'd pull a handful before editioning began to check registration, colour balance, ink viscosity. They were your reference prints.

In commercial printmaking workshops, proofs went to the printer, the publisher, sometimes the gallery. The artist kept a few for their own archive or to give away.

That's the technical definition. In practice, things have shifted.

How many proofs get pulled

Convention says artist proofs should be ten percent of the edition size. So a run of fifty prints might include five artist proofs. Some printmakers stick to this. Others don't mark any at all.

I keep my proof numbers low. Usually two or three per edition. One stays in my flat file as a permanent record. The others might go to family or close friends who've supported the work over the years.

When you hand-pull every print yourself, the distinction between proof and edition becomes less meaningful. There's no separation between studio and artist. Every print in the run gets the same attention. The same number of pulls. The same drying time between layers.

The first acceptable print off the bench is just as valid as number fifteen in the edition.

Why galleries price them higher

Scarcity. If an edition is forty prints and only three are marked A/P, those three become rarer than the numbered run.

There's also a romantic notion at play. Collectors imagine the artist proof is somehow closer to the artist's hand. More authentic. First and best.

I've never bought into that. A numbered print from my editions has been through exactly the same process as any proof. Same screen tension. Same squeegee pressure. Same ink mix. If anything, the later prints in a run can be sharper because I've hit my rhythm.

But the market assigns value differently. Rarity commands premium prices, whether the quality justifies it or not.

Printer's proofs and other marks

You'll also see P/P, for printer's proof. These were historically reserved for the master printer in a workshop setting. Again, usually a small number.

Then there's B.A.T. — bon à tirer. French for "good to pull." This is the single proof the artist signs off on before the edition run begins. It's the colour and registration standard every other print must match.

In my studio, I don't mark B.A.T prints. I know when the ink is right. I know when the registration is tight. I don't need to formalise it with notation. But in larger print collaborations, where multiple hands are involved, that B.A.T proof becomes essential. It's the contract between artist and printer.

What matters more than the letters

If you're collecting screenprints, don't get too hung up on whether something is marked A/P or numbered. Look at the print itself.

Is the registration clean? Are the colours vibrant and even? Is the paper quality archival? Has it been stored flat, away from light?

A poorly pulled artist proof is still a poorly pulled print. A beautifully executed number twenty-eight from a fifty-print edition is a thing you'll want on your wall for decades.

The pencil marks matter for provenance and documentation. They tell you the print is part of a controlled edition. But they don't tell you whether the printmaker knew how to handle a squeegee or mix a transparent base.

When I do mark proofs

I'll mark an A/P when the print is genuinely outside the main edition. Perhaps I've pulled one on a different paper stock — testing Somerset versus Fabriano, for example. Or when I'm working through a colour variation that won't make it into the final run.

Those are true proofs in the traditional sense. They're documentation of the decision-making process. They show what almost was.

Occasionally, a collector specifically asks for an artist proof. If I have one available and it meets the same standard as the edition, I'll sell it. But I'm transparent about what it is. It's not better. It's not more valuable because of the letters. It's simply outside the numbered sequence.

The bottom line for collectors

Artist proofs aren't a gimmick, but they're not magic either. They're a historical convention from workshop printmaking that's carried over into contemporary practice.

Some artists use the designation meaningfully. Others use it as a marketing lever. And some, like me, use it sparingly and only when it reflects an actual difference in the print or its purpose.

If you're drawn to a print marked A/P, buy it because you love the image and the craft behind it. Not because you think those two letters make it inherently superior.

The edition number is just a number. The proof mark is just a mark. What you're really collecting is ink on paper, pulled by hand, in a moment that won't be repeated.

If you'd like to see the prints I'm currently making, visit olifowler.com. Every edition is strictly limited and hand-pulled. Once they're gone, they're gone.