The Inverted Line

George A Walker did not make it into "An Engraver's Globe," and looking through this collection of his wood engravings I see again exactly why. An editor should not present as a fool one who has persisted in his folly to become wise if the wisdom cannot really be shown in the space available: better to omit than risk making him look silly. On the evidence of just a couple of works George Walker does look clumsy in a field where finesse is prized, perhaps to excess. But give him his head, as here, and you see an artist of sustained and wacky integrity half way between Posada and Krazy Kat. ...

Is the work any good? Yes, of course it is. Of course, too, if you go for rough trade in wood engraving, you end where you began: some of this does look like beginner's work. But Walker does things with engraving I've not seen anyone else do: look at "Raguwl, Angel of Vengeance." His images of people in cars are startlingly expressive: he can draw -- look at "The Printer"'s hand and the break of light around him; has Walker bodged the ear here to prove he "can't" draw (so "there"!)? But he can and does. His small images have power and sometimes even humour and tenderness, even though he presents himself as an obsessive, the Mad Hatter of wood engraving.'

The greatest compliment I can pay it is, there is not a dull spot in the book. He can present us with humour without a hint of them being cartoons. I think he must have fun doing these prints. It is a good example of drawing straight to the point, and not fussing with a lot of extra stuff. These drawings wiggle and dance in space. They are small in scale, but each is huge in heart. They look like they are chiseled out of rock. I've had this book laying around, and when a visitor picks it up, I hear exclamations of surprise and awe.' -- James Horton "Block & Burin"

There's not a lot of text in this book: commentary on each of the 70+ featured images, plus a little about Walker's life and manner of working. That helps explain why his work is so little-known. Much of it has gone into handcrafted books of which only one or two hundred were ever printed, and into collections that rarely circulate outside the printmaking community. Even though the uniqueness of each impression is lost in reproducing the works for a wider audience, I'm very glad that he has made it available in this lovely edition. It's fascinating work, sure to be welcome in any library on prints and printmaking.' -- wiredwierd "amazon.com"

This is a lively book by a very lively artist and wood engraver.'

George Walker is one of the most unusual wood engravers in the country, and works in a distinctly contemporary idiom. Using a dentist's drill, he routs out deep grooves which create bold graphic white lines, providing a brilliant black-white contrast.'

Walker's engravings are distanced from the twentieth-century English tradition exemplified by Gill and Gillings: for example, he often uses a dentist's drill to rout out deep grooves. This is not an inconsequential labour-saving technique: it gives the images more of a folk-art feel and dramatizes his symbolic and often surreal compositions.'

Why this cultured man who values history and says the best training ... is to be had by looking at the work of other artists'' does not bring this sensitivity to extending his own art, but is content to remain in a Looney Tunes world, remains one of life's smaller mysteries. The world of wood engraving is undoubtedly extended by the presence within it of such a serious, self-defined, if self-limiting, clown; and this collection which shows a sufficient range of his work to let you see what he is about is very welcome.'

'This is a lively book by a very lively artist and wood engraver.'

'George Walker is one of the most unusual wood engravers in the country, and works in a distinctly contemporary idiom. Using a dentist's drill, he routs out deep grooves which create bold graphic white lines, providing a brilliant black-white contrast.'

'Walker's engravings are distanced from the twentieth-century English tradition exemplified by Gill and Gillings: for example, he often uses a dentist's drill to rout out deep grooves. This is not an inconsequential labour-saving technique: it gives the images more of a folk-art feel and dramatizes his symbolic and often surreal compositions.'

'Why this cultured man who values history and says ''the best training ... is to be had by looking at the work of other artists'' does not bring this sensitivity to extending his own art, but is content to remain in a Looney Tunes world, remains one of life's smaller mysteries. The world of wood engraving is undoubtedly extended by the presence within it of such a serious, self-defined, if self-limiting, clown; and this collection which shows a sufficient range of his work to let you see what he is about is very welcome.'