This is the rung where the method becomes a choice with meaning. Real artists don't reach for print or clay by accident — they pick the medium that says the thing they mean. Look at two ways landscape has gone "out in the wild", then make yours.
Margaret Preston and the Bold Native Print
If you want to see what a relief print does to an Australian landscape, look at Margaret Preston (1875–1963). She fell hard for woodblock and lino printing in the early 1900s and used it to put native flora and Australian landscape front and centre, at a time when most local art was still copying soft European scenes. Her prints are everything paint isn't: flat, bold, strongly outlined, banksias and waratahs and gum hills reduced to confident graphic shapes. The medium is the message — by choosing the bold, repeatable print, she was arguing that Australian plants and places deserved a strong, modern, distinctly local visual voice. That's structural thinking made into a career: the lines and shapes carry the meaning.
Landscape Pressed into Clay
Now the other voice. Push landscape into ceramic relief and the place stops being a picture and becomes a low, tactile surface — ridges of hills you can feel, river valleys carved as real grooves, the light raking across actual bumps rather than painted ones. Potters and ceramic artists have wrapped landscape around vessels and pressed it flat into tiles for thousands of years, from ancient relief tiles to contemporary makers carving the local ranges into stoneware. The earthiness isn't a metaphor here — the work is literally made of earth, fired hard. A clay landscape says this place has weight and substance in a way no flat image can.
Now Make Yours
You've got the full kit: you know why print and clay say things paint can't, you can carve and layer a relief print, you can dodge the reversal, the smudge and the mis-registration, and you've seen both voices used for real. The last move is yours — take one of your landscape compositions from earlier this term and decide: does it want to be a bold, layered, repeatable print, like Preston's hills, or an earthy clay relief you could set on a shelf? In the toy, build it both ways and let the read-out tell you what each medium did to the feeling. Then commit. That decision — matching place to material — is exactly what Your body of work is going to ask of you next.