Jacqueline Goh: The Fingersmith Letterpress
On a rainy January morning, Jacqueline Goh is oiling Klaus.
Klaus, a great dark hulking beast of a machine, is a German-made Heidelberg "Windmill" letterpress. A relic of hand-inked printing from the 1960s, it sits in Goh's studio in a tranquil Yio Chu Kang estate. The designer's family dogs, Sumo and Phantom, lie like furry rugs on the floor of the converted garden pavilion, enjoying the air-conditioning. Absorbed in the task of cleaning Klaus' rollers with kerosene, Goh - "Jackie" to friends - steps deftly over the snoozing dogs.
Piles of wedding invitations - designed, brush-lettered and manually set-up for print by Jackie herself - sit on the studio's work surfaces. Shelved against one wall are cans of paint, as well as wooden boxes of moveable type. Nearby, Thelma and Louise - a pair of red Adana table-top from England occupy another work bench. But it is Klaus which is the real workhorse; the one that Goh relies on. On good days, when it runs smoothly, it can print at the rate of some 100 pieces of paper in an hour. But, more often than not, there are issues that need to be addressed, making it necessary to stop the press. Rollers that need to be reinked. Paper jams (yep, old-school analogue printers get those, too).
Since 2013, Goh has been operating under the banner of The Fingersmith Letterpress, putting out printed cards and other commissioned works. You may have seen her kooky postcards at local retailer Naiise. Or, perhaps, you met her at a crafts market or event, like we did, outside The Arts House during the Singapore Writers Festival. Whatever the case, one notices that her illustrations have a kind of crazy humour that hit the nail right on the head. A card bearing the legend "HELLO FROM SINGAPORE" is followed by a series of tick-where-applicable weatherman prediction options: melting (a mushy figure holding an SOS sign), blistering (a topless dude with orange blisters), blazing (same topless dude or his relative on fire), steaming (topless dude in a hot tub) and sweltering (dude does sticky liquid crane stance).
We sit down for an interview with her, during which she confesses a passion for "old things" and admires our beat-up, seven-year-old Nokia phone.
How did you get into letterpress-printing?
There was a lecture in my final year in school (at the Lasalle College of the Arts, image and communication degree programme), on forgotten crafts, and there was a short video about letterpress-printing. I went to find out more, and told my partner: 'I think this is what I want to do after I graduate.' I went to a small town in the Bathurst area, four hours out of Sydney by train, stayed above a pub for two weeks, and learnt the fundamentals of typesetting and letterpress printing from Will, a funny gentleman, in his backyard. It was fun.
After coming back to Singapore, I tried to find a press, but couldn’t. In the end, my brother’s mother-in-law told me that her dad was a letterpress printer, who prints Taoist prayer papers. He must be about 90 now. I went to see him and he knew someone who owned a press but was winding down their business, and that’s how I bought Klaus.
We had to refurbish it, because it was really in bad shape, and rusty. I was running it on the car porch at first, during the haze period. Combined with the kerosene fumes needed to clean the press – it was bad. I'd already received my first order before getting the big press - invitations for my partner's friend's wedding - so we managed to set it up in time.
That was how we started, and we never looked back.
Klaus, a great dark hulking beast of a machine, is a German-made Heidelberg "Windmill" letterpress. A relic of hand-inked printing from the 1960s, it sits in Goh's studio in a tranquil Yio Chu Kang estate. The designer's family dogs, Sumo and Phantom, lie like furry rugs on the floor of the converted garden pavilion, enjoying the air-conditioning. Absorbed in the task of cleaning Klaus' rollers with kerosene, Goh - "Jackie" to friends - steps deftly over the snoozing dogs.
Piles of wedding invitations - designed, brush-lettered and manually set-up for print by Jackie herself - sit on the studio's work surfaces. Shelved against one wall are cans of paint, as well as wooden boxes of moveable type. Nearby, Thelma and Louise - a pair of red Adana table-top from England occupy another work bench. But it is Klaus which is the real workhorse; the one that Goh relies on. On good days, when it runs smoothly, it can print at the rate of some 100 pieces of paper in an hour. But, more often than not, there are issues that need to be addressed, making it necessary to stop the press. Rollers that need to be reinked. Paper jams (yep, old-school analogue printers get those, too).
Since 2013, Goh has been operating under the banner of The Fingersmith Letterpress, putting out printed cards and other commissioned works. You may have seen her kooky postcards at local retailer Naiise. Or, perhaps, you met her at a crafts market or event, like we did, outside The Arts House during the Singapore Writers Festival. Whatever the case, one notices that her illustrations have a kind of crazy humour that hit the nail right on the head. A card bearing the legend "HELLO FROM SINGAPORE" is followed by a series of tick-where-applicable weatherman prediction options: melting (a mushy figure holding an SOS sign), blistering (a topless dude with orange blisters), blazing (same topless dude or his relative on fire), steaming (topless dude in a hot tub) and sweltering (dude does sticky liquid crane stance).
We sit down for an interview with her, during which she confesses a passion for "old things" and admires our beat-up, seven-year-old Nokia phone.
How did you get into letterpress-printing?
There was a lecture in my final year in school (at the Lasalle College of the Arts, image and communication degree programme), on forgotten crafts, and there was a short video about letterpress-printing. I went to find out more, and told my partner: 'I think this is what I want to do after I graduate.' I went to a small town in the Bathurst area, four hours out of Sydney by train, stayed above a pub for two weeks, and learnt the fundamentals of typesetting and letterpress printing from Will, a funny gentleman, in his backyard. It was fun.
After coming back to Singapore, I tried to find a press, but couldn’t. In the end, my brother’s mother-in-law told me that her dad was a letterpress printer, who prints Taoist prayer papers. He must be about 90 now. I went to see him and he knew someone who owned a press but was winding down their business, and that’s how I bought Klaus.
We had to refurbish it, because it was really in bad shape, and rusty. I was running it on the car porch at first, during the haze period. Combined with the kerosene fumes needed to clean the press – it was bad. I'd already received my first order before getting the big press - invitations for my partner's friend's wedding - so we managed to set it up in time.
That was how we started, and we never looked back.
Why did you want to do letterpress printing?
I love working with old things. And the tactility of the result, it gives me goose bumps. I like the feel of paper and knowing that you can slowly solve the problem.
What are the qualities a printer has to possess?
Patience. Lots of patience. It’s an old press. It sometimes breaks down. You still have to mix the right colour yourself by hand. Sometimes, when you put it on the press, the colour is just not right, so you have to wash the whole press and re-ink. If you do two colours, you have to align it. And sometimes the press takes two paper at a time.
The process is slow, but therapeutic. Don’t take things too seriously and have fun with it. If you’re going to chase perfection, you’re going to kill yourself in the studio.
What's your design aesthetic?
I’d say, really quirky. Nothing too serious. Style-wise, it’s very illustrative, not graphic at all. Some hand-lettering. Minimal colours. It can be things that you see every day, but if you observe closer, you see that something is a bit off.
I was in London, and I saw this guy eating a sandwich. Then, I saw a different guy, an Asian guy, eating his sandwich with chopsticks. It was a big sandwich, but he was able to grip it without dirtying his hands. I was like: 'This Asian guy is, like, chopsticks level very high.' I talk to myself a lot, making weird conversations in my head.
I love working with old things. And the tactility of the result, it gives me goose bumps. I like the feel of paper and knowing that you can slowly solve the problem.
What are the qualities a printer has to possess?
Patience. Lots of patience. It’s an old press. It sometimes breaks down. You still have to mix the right colour yourself by hand. Sometimes, when you put it on the press, the colour is just not right, so you have to wash the whole press and re-ink. If you do two colours, you have to align it. And sometimes the press takes two paper at a time.
The process is slow, but therapeutic. Don’t take things too seriously and have fun with it. If you’re going to chase perfection, you’re going to kill yourself in the studio.
What's your design aesthetic?
I’d say, really quirky. Nothing too serious. Style-wise, it’s very illustrative, not graphic at all. Some hand-lettering. Minimal colours. It can be things that you see every day, but if you observe closer, you see that something is a bit off.
I was in London, and I saw this guy eating a sandwich. Then, I saw a different guy, an Asian guy, eating his sandwich with chopsticks. It was a big sandwich, but he was able to grip it without dirtying his hands. I was like: 'This Asian guy is, like, chopsticks level very high.' I talk to myself a lot, making weird conversations in my head.
How long does it take you to finish a project?
For my own projects, it comes whenever. But when you’re designing for a client, there’s a lot of back and forth. It definitely takes longer. For wedding invitations, depending on complexity, I’d suggest giving one or two months for the design process, and printing would take 10 working days. I design in my bedroom, and spend about six hours a day in the studio when I am printing.
What's next for The Fingersmith Press?
I’m expanding the travel postcard series. At first, I only wanted to do it for Singapore, but I have been slowly exploring other countries, and the response has been cool. My Barcelona postcards are stocked now at Printworkers Barcelona. They are a silkscreen-printing and etching facility in Spain, and they also sell prints. We’re also in talks with a London design shop to sell the postcards there. This year, I’m focusing on getting my stuff overseas. I’m working on a Rome postcard, inspired by a recent trip. Being able to travel for work sounds very adult. It’s like I’m 'adulting' in life.
I’m also trying to venture a little out of letterpress printing. I’m working on a tote bag idea: silk-screened tote bags with a little bit of a twist.
For my own projects, it comes whenever. But when you’re designing for a client, there’s a lot of back and forth. It definitely takes longer. For wedding invitations, depending on complexity, I’d suggest giving one or two months for the design process, and printing would take 10 working days. I design in my bedroom, and spend about six hours a day in the studio when I am printing.
What's next for The Fingersmith Press?
I’m expanding the travel postcard series. At first, I only wanted to do it for Singapore, but I have been slowly exploring other countries, and the response has been cool. My Barcelona postcards are stocked now at Printworkers Barcelona. They are a silkscreen-printing and etching facility in Spain, and they also sell prints. We’re also in talks with a London design shop to sell the postcards there. This year, I’m focusing on getting my stuff overseas. I’m working on a Rome postcard, inspired by a recent trip. Being able to travel for work sounds very adult. It’s like I’m 'adulting' in life.
I’m also trying to venture a little out of letterpress printing. I’m working on a tote bag idea: silk-screened tote bags with a little bit of a twist.
I'm going to ask you about the press' name: Any connection to the Sarah Waters novel?
Actually no. I’ve watched the movie and I read the novel, but no connection. I just like how it has the connotation of someone very deft with their fingers.
How sustainable is The Fingersmith Press as a business?
I have a diploma in business administration from Ngee Ann Polytechnic. Sometimes, I feel that the artistic side of me and the creative side fight. I’d be like: this costs so much money, you won’t earn much! I have Excel spreadsheets. I love numbers. But the creative side always wins. I always have to do what I love. And it usually works out.
When I first started the business, I looked at my budget and my books, and everything was in the red. I was like, 'How am I going to sustain this?' The first two years, I was still teaching kids painting on the side, but it's gotten busy enough for me to stop doing that last year. At least we're in the black now, and I don't live lavishly.
When people find out that what I do, if they are aunties, they usually ask: “Can earn money, meh?” I say: “Can, lah. Just don’t buy Gucci bags, lor.”
Actually no. I’ve watched the movie and I read the novel, but no connection. I just like how it has the connotation of someone very deft with their fingers.
How sustainable is The Fingersmith Press as a business?
I have a diploma in business administration from Ngee Ann Polytechnic. Sometimes, I feel that the artistic side of me and the creative side fight. I’d be like: this costs so much money, you won’t earn much! I have Excel spreadsheets. I love numbers. But the creative side always wins. I always have to do what I love. And it usually works out.
When I first started the business, I looked at my budget and my books, and everything was in the red. I was like, 'How am I going to sustain this?' The first two years, I was still teaching kids painting on the side, but it's gotten busy enough for me to stop doing that last year. At least we're in the black now, and I don't live lavishly.
When people find out that what I do, if they are aunties, they usually ask: “Can earn money, meh?” I say: “Can, lah. Just don’t buy Gucci bags, lor.”
