Gesso Tricks

One of the attributes that I can exert some further control in working with my Xuan-Boo, is the matter of white balance/contrast.

Depending on the type of Xuan paper one uses, the "white" ( or blank space ) space is anything but white. While it is not necessary, nor is it critical, for me to display true white, nonetheless I would welcome the opportunity to modify my shades of white if possible. On top of that, my style of Chinese Brush painting requires the help of shading quite a bit.

Work done on Xuan paper loses its vividness once the pigment dries and before it is mounted. The depth of this brilliance is restored once the paper is wet. It is therefore paramount for a Xuan artist to not correct his/her work when the paper has dried up. I always wet my work first before I tidy up my work.

To facilitate in varying the contrast in my work, Xuan-Boo offers an unique avenue.... I can manipulate the gesso. By laying down a differentiated map of gesso, according to my needs, I can accentuate or tone down a particular area or color of the painting. I can actually affect the overall presentation of my mounted Xuan.

Example on the bottom picture shows the dried painting before it was mounted. To the left of that painting is the canvas with my custom gesso. Notice I painted the gesso in a gray scale according to my need.

The picture on the top shows the finished work on Xuan-Boo.
One can observe that the hill on which the gazebo sits on is now more 3 dimensional, thanks to the increased shading offered by the custom gesso. The staircase shows off better because the tree to the left of it is now darker and offers better contrast. The black roof tiles on the house is now more saturated.

Granted all these changes are subtle, but nonetheless palpable. I think it can be a very useful tool to remedy a "flat" painting.

Presenting my Xuan-Boo

As a kid I remembered looking up at the radio that perched on top of our 5 drawer dresser. Each time my dad would put his fingers on one of those big black knobs my breathing would stop for a second. I wanted to catch the magic. The magic of the front glass panel on the radio lighting up. A few minutes later I could hear high pitched whistles rising and ebbing, and then music or voices would be discernible amongst the interference. Turning another black knob left and right brings the program into clear. "Where did the voice come from?" I would ask. "There is a man inside the box!" said my father.

I remembered climbing on a chair, behind the dresser, looking through the perforated backing on the radio, to find that "man". Instead, I found several "light bulbs" inside the box; I could "smell" the heat emanating from these bulbs. As my dad turned the dial knob, I could see a string hooked up to a spring, which was attached to a slider on a track, and a needle moved. The whole thing was so mesmerising.....I can still smell that heat. I can still feel its radiance.

As I grew older, there is a new addition to our family. A much larger cabinet with a tiny gray window in the front. After the black knob was turned, this cabinet gave out a extraterrestrial high frequency hum, and after what seemed like eternity, a gray and white picture appeared. It took a another life time for the picture to get brighter and became "watchable". We had television. Again I somehow managed to get to the back of the cabinet, looking through the perforated backing, to look for the bulbs, and to "smell" the heat. The moments of anticipating an image appearing on the screen, and to have events happening in expected sequences,from the transformers humming, the capacitors charging up, to the flickers, and finally having my senses satisfied, are moments that I still cherish today.


Painting for me is very similar to the experiences I just described. There has to be awe, curiosity and appreciation. I paint because it is not instantaneous, no immediate gratification at play here. There is a process of going from conception to finished work, all the while filled with anticipation.

When we paint on Xuan paper, the overall appearance of the work changes as the work dries. Wetting the finished work restores most of the original saturation, hence mounting Xuan paper on another piece of Xuan paper is mandatory not only to give it stiffness, but to restore the brilliance and color accuracy. After days, sometimes weeks of working on a piece, we then spend hours on affixing it and hanging it up to dry. We really don't know what our work looks like until it is all mounted and dried.

My curiosity led me to explore new ways of mounting. Hence I invented this process/medium I called Xuan-Boo. Along with this new platform comes new challenges and that led to my making my own frames. I kept thinking how turning the knob made the dial move. Perhaps that is why I am not satisfied to just paint, but I want to be involved in as many facets as I can. I enjoy the complete process from laying down the first stroke, to hanging the work up. Today I am presenting you with the first batch of Xuan-Boo.

Of course the end is gratifying too, sometimes. There are some works that I would really hate to part with, because I had invested so much of myself in them.... "Every time you go away, you take a part of me with you!"

Every so often, after the National Anthem has played, and the TV station has signed off, I would still be watching the Station Calibration Wheel. There is nothing to anticipate now,nothing to be awed about, but at least I know the damn set still works.

Student Works from Hong Kong

The Municipal Park in Tsim Sha Tsui, Kowloon hosted a painting exhibition by students ( grade school and high school ). The paintings have to use the park as a theme.

Most of the nominated works are displayed in page protectors in a binder, therefore difficult to take photographs of. The few that I have posted here are on bulletin boards., i.e. the top 3 mentions.

The ones on top are from high school students, the ones on the bottom are from grade school kids.

Their works are so inspiring that I feel compelled to post them to share with readers of my blog

Crying Fowl

Greetings from Hong Kong !! I thought it would be interesting to lay down a couple of blogs while I am visiting Hong Kong, my birth place. Like a salmon returning to the river where it was born, I have followed the the scent of the water and my instincts and landed here a few days ago; not to mate, but to enrich my life cycle, I hope.

I am happy to say that I escaped the jurists' waste baskets and have gained my place at the Portland Open Studios tours again this year. I have decided that the majority of my new works would be in the Xuan-Boo style, and I have picked the heron as my entry piece.

This painting was done on fibrous Xuan paper. The sizing on this paper is a little bit different ( not as absorbent ) and the color presentation is not as deep and saturated as the normally sized Xuan. However when mated to canvas, the apparent texture it imparts is particularly suitable for our feathery friend here.

I am trying to keep the color scheme really simple here, after all I am not creating a document nor an accurate depiction of the bird. However the characterisation, the mannerism of the bird is vital. My mission is not to let color overrun my pictorial essay. The simple creature is then garnished with a few blades of leaves.

One of the challenges is to describe the feathers without actually drawing them out. I have allowed a controlled bleeding of strokes along the frontal side of the neck to give it that feathered look. A brief outline helps to define the physical structure.

Intersecting leaf blades is a real headache as far as composition and presentation goes in Chinese Brush Painting. I have placed a few drops of water at strategic points of the cluster so that ink disperses to a much larger extent along those fronts. This is not a blemish, but a controlled artistic technique, a la moss dots in many of the traditional works.

Finally, instead of allowing the background to be blank, I used a Mosaic of nondescript patches of colors. I find great similarity between this and a photograph with a shallow depth of field. Perhaps this is an instinct carried over from my hobby in photography.

I must mention that for this piece of work, I stretched my own canvas, and built my own frame for the canvas. My only debate right now is whether to finish the frame in the traditional black color, or to leave it as is, with the gray primer only.