The art of printmaking (as well as photography although the process is completely different) by nature involves reproduction: cut an image into a surface, ink the surface, press the image onto paper. That's one. Ink the surface again, press inked surface to paper again. That's two. Repeat a third, fourth, sixtieth—thousandth time—and each one of those images is still an original.

Think of a rubber stamp. Each time you coat it with ink and stamp a piece of paper you are making an original print. Stamp once or stamp 1000 times. Either way, they're all originals. The difference occurs when, for example, you scan or photograph the image you made and make copies. The copied images never "met" the rubber stamp. They can be enlarged, reduced, photo enhanced, printed on expensive paper, made into posters sold at Spencer's in the Mall, artificially aged to look old or have the surface of the paper embossed to look like the stamp made contact with the paper and left a pressure mark (a great way to trick an untrained buyer's eye).

Photographs are even harder to detect. When you make a print from a negative, there is no physical evidence to indicate whether, say, Gordon Parks printed that photo himself or the negative was stolen and photos were made 50 years later in a darkroom. However, if the photo is scanned or rephotographed and those secondary images are marketed as originals, you're being lied to.

Now, average in the digital advancements we've made. A lot of artists today are making completely legitimate copies of their original work. Take painter and Topeka native, Walter Hatke, for example. Hatke will scan or photograph his paintings and convert them to a digital image and then make giclee prints to sell. Those prints are still considered original because the artist himself converted the image he created to a different medium: paper. They aren't sold as original paintings but as original prints. Hatke isn't trying to trick anyone. He simply wants to make his work available to more than a single buyer. The prints are considerably cheaper ($175 for a digital version vs. $30,000 for a painting) and the digital image is destroyed after the series is complete, never to be printed again. It's similar to a "strike" in printmaking terms. An artist will carve a large "x" or line into a woodcut, engraving or etching plate to prevent anyone from making more copies in the future. You know when the plate is destroyed (or in the rubber stamp analogy above) with a hideous mark that the print you own is from the original plate. Otherwise, it would have a large X through it, right?

What you'll be seeing when the Gallery re-opens on Friday are all originals. What that means is both Albrecht Dürer and Rembrandt van Rijn both drew an image onto a plate or piece of wood and either they or their apprentices carved the image, inked the image plate and ran the inked plate face down on wet paper through a printing press. They didn't do this once, they did it many times. Some of the works you'll see are one of many in a series. If the series consisted of 300 that means after number 300 of 300 (300/300) was printed the plate was destroyed.

As you view this exhibit, try and remember what was happening in the world when these two artists physically touched these works on paper. When Dürer was printing, the Italian Renaissance was in full swing, Columbus was landing in Cuba in search of the Americas, Vasco Da Gama rounded the Cape of Good Hope, St. Peter's Basilica was being constructed in Rome and Martin Luther was publishing his 95 objections to Catholic practices. When Rembrant was soaking his paper, Galileo was confirming the sun as the center of the universe, Catholics were beseiging the Huguenots, Louis the XIV reigned France and the Thirty Years War was well underway.

It's important and part of the education process to understand the differences between fakes, copies and originals. But technicalities and processes aside, it's the history accompanying these originals that makes one's heart flutter. These are the real deal. And we're as excited about hosting this work as Elvis fans would be over holding a lock of his hair or touching sequins from one of his jumpsuits.