We live for the craft of printing. Our presses have been pulled out of dusty garages and forgotten industrial zones from New Jersey to New Orleans. We exist to carry on a tradition that has been practiced for generations, and to print for people who love paper.
Letterpress printing exists at the crossroads of art and mass production. We print in relatively small batches, and that is what lets us keep an obsessive attention to detail and tight control over the process. What comes off the press is a communication tool and a physical object worth keeping — both at once.
Our enthusiasm for the craft is the same enthusiasm we bring to every client project. We measure our success by whether your project actually accomplishes what you set out to do, and we grow almost entirely through your recommendations and word of mouth.
Two people, a pile of cast iron, and a commitment to print the slow way.
In 2007 I left a full-time design job in an office that literally overlooked the Liberty Bell to gamble on a squirrely little print shop Ryan and I were building in a studio deep under the El.
Rise and Shine Letterpress is where prints come alive. We built this place out of the thrill of collecting equipment and stories from print-makers who were losing fingers to these machines generations before us. We work hard to preserve the history of the craft, and we also love pushing it forward with modern design, the finest milled papers, and new experiments on press.
There is no better feeling than looking at a finished print fresh off the press and getting to say, "We made that."
I started Rise and Shine Letterpress because I had an overwhelming need to work with my hands. I had a comfortable job as a copywriter at an advertising agency. For a while I tried to do both — write copy by day, print at night.
Eventually my very generous and understanding employers called me in for a sit-down. They told me I was burning the candle at both ends and that I had to choose. It was a hard call. I loved the job and I was terrified to go off on my own. But there was no real choice, so I saw it through.
That was fifteen-plus years ago. I have been guiding the shop toward its original vision ever since. Still working on it, still excited about what is coming next.
Leslie's sister sent her a letterpress-printed birthday card. She showed it to Ryan. Life was never the same.
"I wonder if I could build a printing press," Ryan wondered out loud. He did not, as it turned out, need to. A retired printer in the suburbs was selling a 1912 Chandler and Price on Craigslist. We rented a box truck, filled it with diesel, and headed for destiny.
The journey was fraught with disaster. The pallet jack fell out of the back of the truck because Ryan forgot to close the door. We could not find the printer's house. When we finally got there, the machine was sitting in all of its rusty glory. We loaded it up, certain things would go smoothly from here on out.
They mostly did. Luck carried us. We found an affordable studio at Art Making Machine Studios in Philadelphia. A writer for the Philadelphia Inquirer happened to stop by during an open studio and wrote us up in a Sunday feature. It turned out Philly was hot for letterpress.
Then on a visit back to her hometown of Alexandria, Louisiana, Leslie found a studio space with a storefront, plenty of room, and an apartment upstairs. We were sad to leave Philly. Alexandria was an opportunity that was not going to exist anywhere else. We crated up the machines and filled another box truck with diesel and dreams.
Our studio is in Alexandria. Our work ships nationwide — from small East Coast weddings to West Coast brand launches, and everything in between.
Tell us about your project. We will get back to you with a quote within two business days.