By photographic artist Jo Howell
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Introduction
It’s great fun doing experimentation with cyanotype photography. The process has a kind of alchemy about it; you can feel like a wizard in your own kitchen, mixing brews and watching images emerge as if by magic. Of course, as with any form of magic, the trick is really a combination of chemistry, patience, and practice. One of the most exciting ways to extend cyanotype beyond its characteristic Prussian blue is through toning. Toning not only shifts the colour of the image but can also deepen, soften, or even transform its mood.
Toning is simple on the surface, but the devil is in the details. Every choice—from how long you leave a print in solution, to the type of tea or herbal infusion you use, to whether the print is freshly made or long cured—affects the final result. This is why, although cyanotype toning is often presented as a playful side experiment, it is equally a lesson in the scientific method.
I have previously toned standard cyanotypes, those deep-blue-and-white prints on paper. However, I had not tried toning on other materials such as glass, ceramics, or textiles. Nor had I tested toning specifically on wet cyanotypes—a more experimental variant that involves adding soap, vinegar, turmeric, or other kitchen chemicals to the sensitiser solution, which produces complex textures and unpredictable blooms of colour. For this set of experiments, I revisited wet cyanotype photograms I had made at the start of 2024.
The purpose of these tests was twofold:
- To explore how toning interacts with the altered chemistries present in wet cyanotypes.
- To determine the optimum timing for toning these prints without losing too much contrast or detail.
By sharing these tests, I hope to encourage other artists working in alternative processes to combine playfulness with rigorous note-taking. This balance between curiosity and discipline is what allows us to understand—and repeat—the magic.
Why Use the Scientific Method in Alternative Photography?
Alternative photographic processes often sit in a space between art and science. We celebrate the unpredictability: the way rust, heat, or a stray drop of vinegar might create unexpected textures. Yet at the same time, if we want to reproduce results or make informed creative choices, we must rely on methodical testing.
The scientific method is essentially a cycle of observation → hypothesis → experiment → record → evaluate. For cyanotype toning, this might look like:
- Observation: Tea is known to tone cyanotypes towards browns and purples.
- Hypothesis: Peppermint tea will give a cooler or greener tone than standard black tea.
- Experiment: Expose identical sections of a print to both teas for increasing amounts of time.
- Record: Note the times, teas, and results carefully.
- Evaluate: Compare sections side by side to determine which gives the most pleasing tone without excessive loss of contrast.
Without the note-taking and comparison stage, all you’re left with is the memory of something that looked nice once. And memory is unreliable, especially when you’re juggling multiple prints, teas, and timings. By documenting each test, you build a personal reference library—an artist’s lab book—that not only guides your own practice but also contributes to the shared knowledge of alternative photographic processes.
Materials and Method
The basic equipment for toning cyanotypes can be gathered in almost any kitchen:
- A kettle for boiling water.
- Trays or shallow containers (one for bleaching, one for washing, and separate ones for each toner).
- Soda ash (washing soda), for bleaching the initial Prussian blue.
- Cold water, for halting reactions and washing.
- A drying rack or line.
- Herbal teas or tisanes of your choice (for this experiment: black tea, peppermint, and chamomile).
- Patience—the most important ingredient!
Step 1: Choosing and Preparing Prints
I selected several wet cyanotype photograms. Unlike a standard cyanotype, where a leaf or object leaves a crisp white silhouette against a deep blue background, wet cyanotypes are far more painterly. They often display streaks, blooms, and unexpected patches of colour thanks to the additional chemistry introduced during exposure.
Step 2: Bleaching
To tone a cyanotype effectively, you usually begin by reducing the intensity of the Prussian blue. I prepared a tray with warm water and soda ash (about a teaspoon per litre). When the print is submerged, the blue gradually dissolves, leaving a pale yellow or greenish residue of the underlying ferric compounds.
With wet cyanotypes, I noticed that some areas resisted bleaching, clinging to patches of stubborn blue. This, I suspect, is due to the interaction between the additional chemicals and the cyanotype sensitiser during exposure. Rather than seeing this as a flaw, I embraced it as an added dimension: the persistence of blue creates interesting contrasts once the toner is applied.
Step 3: Washing and Drying
After bleaching, I washed the print in cold water to stop the reaction and then laid it flat to dry. Proper washing is essential to avoid contamination of the toning bath.
Step 4: Splitting for Time-Based Testing
To properly compare results, I cut one print into four equal sections. Each quarter became a controlled experiment:
- Control: No toning, just bleached and washed.
- Black tea toner
- Peppermint tea toner
- Chamomile tea toner
On the back of each piece, I wrote the tea type and the duration of toning. I then repeated the same set of tests multiple times, increasing the immersion time by one minute for each round, up to five minutes.
Results and Observations
Once all the tests were complete, I reassembled the quarters of each print to compare them directly. This side-by-side evaluation is essential; without it, subtle differences in tone or contrast can be easily overlooked.
Control Section
The control, having only been bleached, retained a pale yellow cast with faint traces of blue. It looked ghostly, almost like an old parchment. While beautiful in its own right, it lacked the depth that toning can bring.
Black Tea Toner
As expected, black tea quickly shifted the print towards warm browns. At one minute, the tone was subtle, with a soft sepia wash. By four minutes, the colour deepened into a rich chocolate brown, though at the cost of some shadow detail. Beyond four minutes, contrast dropped noticeably, and the image became muddy.
Peppermint Tea Toner
Peppermint produced cooler, slightly greenish-brown tones. The change was more delicate than black tea, but the print retained more contrast even at four to five minutes. There was also a faint hint of freshness, almost a silvery undertone, which gave these prints a different mood.
Chamomile Tea Toner
Chamomile was the most surprising. At two minutes, it imparted a gentle golden warmth, reminiscent of aged paper or antique textiles. By three to four minutes, this golden tone deepened without overwhelming the details. However, at five minutes, the effect plateaued, with only a slight darkening but little additional richness.
Analysis: Optimum Timing
From these results, I concluded that the sweet spot for toning wet cyanotype photograms lies between two and four minutes, depending on the tea used and the desired effect.
- For dramatic warmth, black tea at around three minutes works best.
- For subtle cooler tones with good contrast, peppermint tea shines at four minutes.
- For antique-like softness, chamomile at two to three minutes is ideal.
It is worth stressing that these conclusions apply specifically to wet cyanotypes. Standard cyanotypes, negatives, or prints on different papers might respond very differently. Each variable—paper weight, exposure, chemical freshness—affects the outcome. This is why repeating the tests for every new method or material is essential.
Reflections on Practice
One of the most rewarding aspects of these experiments was rediscovering how scientific discipline supports artistic freedom. By keeping careful notes—times, teas, observations—I could evaluate results clearly rather than relying on vague impressions. And with that clarity came creative confidence.
For example, I now know that if I want to create a series of warm-toned wet cyanotype photograms that still retain detail, I should use chamomile tea for three minutes. If I want moodier, darker prints, black tea for two minutes gives a stronger push. This knowledge lets me plan a series, rather than relying on happy accidents.
Yet the unpredictability never disappears entirely. Wet cyanotypes, by their nature, resist control. Even within the same timing and tea, no two prints came out identical. This tension—between precision and unpredictability—is what makes alternative photographic processes so engaging.
Conclusion
Toning wet cyanotype photograms may seem like a small diversion in the wider world of photographic practice, but it reveals a great deal about the relationship between art and science. With just kitchen teas, soda ash, and a patient eye, we can transform the characteristic blues of cyanotype into a palette of browns, golds, and greens.
Through structured testing—splitting prints, adjusting times, recording details—we gain insight into how these transformations work. And with that insight, we can make creative choices with confidence, while still embracing the surprises that chemistry offers.
The optimum toning time for wet cyanotype photograms, based on these experiments, is between two and four minutes. But the real lesson is not the number; it’s the method. By applying the scientific approach, even in the playful context of kitchen-table photography, we open the door to repeatable discovery.
So, whether you are a beginner experimenting with your first cyanotypes, or an experienced alternative process artist seeking new tonalities, remember: keep notes, test methodically, and enjoy the magic.
Because sometimes, the best art begins with feeling like a wizard in your own kitchen.
Who is Jo Howell?
Jo Howell is a Sunderland-based photographic artist specialising in analogue and experimental processes, particularly cyanotype, whose work bridges science, craft and community engagement. Born into a working-class family in the North East of England, Howell has built a practice that is both deeply personal and broadly participatory — she is as comfortable making photograms in her studio as she is leading workshops and public art commissions.
Since completing her BA in Photography, Video and Digital Imaging at Sunderland University, she has created major projects including #WeAreExperimenting, Look & Inspire, and Untitled10; her work often involves collaborating with people from diverse backgrounds, exploring alternative photographic chemistry, light, time, and material.
Disabled and working with chronic pain, Howell has also made accessibility and sustainability central in both her artistic choices and her advocacy: choosing low-toxicity materials, designing sensory-safe methods, and campaigning for cultural infrastructure such as the National Glass Centre.
