The Digital Mirage

Let's be clear, I'm not here to slag off digital printing. Giclée prints and the like have their place; for photographers, they're a game-changer. But when we talk about creating original graphic art, we're talking about a different beast entirely. A digital print is, at its core, a sophisticated inkjet printer spraying millions of microscopic dots of ink onto paper to replicate a file on a computer. The result can be sharp and accurate, but it’s a reproduction. It's an echo of the original. The machine is translating a set of data, and the final piece often has a certain flatness to it, a lack of physical presence. There’s no battle, no negotiation between artist, ink, and paper. It’s just code.

Ink, Pressure, and the Human Hand

Now, think about a screen print. It’s a fundamentally physical, almost sculptural, process. There is no 'print' button. There's a flood, a pull, and the satisfying 'zip' of the squeegee forcing a thick, vibrant layer of ink through a mesh screen. Each colour is a separate layer, a separate act of judgement and physical effort. The ink doesn't just stain the paper; it sits proudly on top of it, creating a tactile surface you can feel. You can see the slight overlap of colours, the richness of the pigment, the way light catches on its texture. It is an object, not just an image. Those tiny imperfections—the 'happy accidents'—aren't flaws. They are the fingerprints of the process, proof that a person was there, making decisions and wrestling the thing into existence.

Collectability vs. Commodity

This is where the conversation shifts from craft to value, and it’s probably the most important bit. A digital file can be reproduced infinitely. A thousand prints can look identical to the first. It's a commodity. A screen print edition, however, is inherently finite. By its very nature, it's a small, limited batch. Each one is pulled by hand, and while they belong to the same family, each has its own subtle character. This is what makes it a collectable art form. When you buy a piece from Oli Fowler Art, you’re not just buying a decoration. You're buying a small piece of a larger, deliberate artistic act. You're investing in a craft with history and getting an artifact that has a direct, physical link back to the artist's studio. It's the difference between owning a mass-produced poster and owning an original work.

At the end of the day, it's about what you want on your wall. Do you want a perfect, clean echo of a digital file, or do you want something with a bit of heart and a story embedded in its very fibres? One is a picture of a thing; the other is the thing itself. I know which one I'd choose every time.

See the difference for yourself. Have a browse through the prints in the shop and look closely at the depth and texture that only real ink can provide. Explore the store at olifowler.com.