The Work You Don’t See: Making Sculptural Art with 3D Printing

When people see my finished jellyfish sculptures, they often assume that 3D printing does most of the work.

That the printer runs, a form appears, and the rest is finishing.

The reality is very different.

3D printing, at least for sculptural work, is slow, demanding, and deeply hands-on. Most of the labour happens long before a machine is switched on — and long after it stops.

This post is about that invisible work.

1. Before Anything Exists

Every piece begins long before there is an object.

There’s research — studying species, movement, scale, anatomy. Looking at reference material. Observing how something behaves in water, how it folds, how it drifts. Then there’s the quieter part: holding the sculpture in my head until it feels resolved enough to attempt.

Nothing is printed until I understand what I’m trying to say with the form.

2. Designing in 3D Space

Once the concept is clear, the work moves to the computer.

Designing for 3D printing isn’t intuitive in the way traditional sculpting is. It’s technical, abstract, and slow. Forms have to be built digitally, tested structurally, and constantly adjusted.

This stage takes hours, often days. Sometimes longer.

Learning the software alone has taken years, and it’s something I’m still doing. Every update changes how tools behave. Every project pushes different limits.

3. Calibrating Machines and Materials

3D printers are not “set and forget” tools.

Resins behave differently depending on temperature, humidity, printer settings, and even the age of the material. Calibration is ongoing. When something goes wrong, it’s rarely obvious why.

This part of the process is part science, part patience.

4. Test Prints and Failures

No piece works perfectly the first time.

There are test prints that collapse. Supports that fail. Forms that look right on screen but don’t translate physically. Colours that behave differently once cured. Compositions that feel wrong when they exist in real space.

Some prints fail halfway through. Others finish and still aren’t usable.

Each failure is information — but it costs time and materials.

5. Cleaning, Curing, and Deciding What Survives

Once a print is complete, the work isn’t finished.

Each piece is washed, cured, cleaned, and hand sanded. This stage determines whether the sculpture is even suitable to continue. Some pieces don’t make it past this point.

Nothing moves forward unless it feels structurally sound and visually right.

6. Hand-Made Components

Not everything is printed.

Jellyfish tentacles, for example, are made by hand from resin. Each one is formed individually, shaped, refined, and attached. This is time-consuming and precise work, and it’s essential to how the sculptures feel.

The printer doesn’t do this part.

7. Surface, Colour, and Light

All colouring is done by hand.

Layering colour, building translucency, and adding iridescence is slow and deliberate. Light behaves differently on resin than it does on paint or clay, and every surface decision affects how the piece is perceived.

This is where the work shifts from technical to intuitive again.

8. Mounting and Presentation

 

Frames and glass domes are sourced carefully.

They have to suit the work — scale, proportion, weight, and stability all matter. Mounting is done by hand, and adjustments are often needed to make everything sit correctly and feel resolved.

Presentation is part of the sculpture, not an afterthought.

9. Preparing for Exhibition

Finally, there’s the work of getting the pieces out into the world.

Preparing work for galleries means transport, installation planning, drop-offs, collections, and sometimes repairs. Every exhibition adds another layer of labour that rarely gets seen.

Why This Matters

3D printing isn’t a shortcut.

It’s just another tool — one that demands time, persistence, and a willingness to work through failure. The technology doesn’t remove effort; it simply changes where the effort lives.

For me, it’s a way to explore fragility, preservation, and contradiction — but only because of the human labour wrapped around it.

The machine is only one small part of the process.