Jon Gale

I have always been interested in the precision of a single line. For years, I carried a pen and ink sketchbook while traveling, using drawing as a way to slow down and record the world around me. It was a simple, quiet way to process landscapes and architecture.

Recently, I have moved from the sketchbook to printmaking. I’ve traded the immediacy of a pen for the slower, tactile process of etching and aquatint. There is something grounding about its chemistry; using a saline copper sulphate solution to bite into mild steel requires a level of patience that forces me to be present.

My current work explores the tension I feel during open-water swimming. While I love the freedom of the water, I can also be unsettled by what lies beneath. I’m fascinated by the man-made “fear-objects” I encounter—submerged structures and rusted metalwork that disrupt the natural environment. Through my prints, I try to capture that specific chill of seeing something industrial where I least expect it, turning a moment of underwater anxiety into an image on paper. I also enjoy reproducing any architecture that captivates me.