Friday, November 18, 2011

PLAYING WITH VISUAL ACUITY

I like to people watch in an exhibition hall.

 People would stand in front of a painting, and start to bow after a few minutes.  They would lean their body forward, closer to the painting.  Those with bifocals or glasses would start to fidget with them, before leaning back to the erect position.  In some instances, the visitors would approach a painting, then distant themselves, and approach again.

What we are doing is not only finding and adjusting our focal point, but also playing with our visual acuity. 

Our vision is unique in the sense that we are always attempting to decode images in the HD mode, or whatever highest resolution our body is equipped with.  However, this peak acuity only applies to our narrow center of vision.  We might have a healthy peripheral vision, but only the center field of our vision enjoys the high resolution.  An example would be if we look across a lake lined with trees, we might only sense them as a curtain of color, especially when we are not focused on them.  But the moment we focus on these distant pixels, we can actually make out the branches, and perhaps an eagle's nest perched on top.  Thus even when we are looking at a misty fog, it might feel foggy or blurry, but our eyes can actually pick up the droplets dancing in the fog (try driving at night in fog)!

When we paint landscape we are told to bestow a lot of information to the near ground, and blur out the rest, to give focus and perspective.   However, it is the behavior of the visitors in an exhibition hall that prompted me to explore the means of adding information to a "blur", to more closely relate to our own acuity characteristics.

In the following example, I was just exploiting the interaction of water and ink and Xuan.  By loading the brush ink heavy just at the tip, with sufficient water in its belly, the ink particles will bleed out into little fissure like streaks.  This can also be accomplished by selectively wetting the outside boundary of the ink stroke with plain water.  The result is a blurred line with structures.


The next example is to take this process a step further.  I actually painted branch tips in the bleed zone.  The result is such that when viewed from a distance (i.e. when our eyes are not focused on it) the image represents slopes shrouded in fog.  Whereas when one gets closer to the image (i.e. when our eyes are focused on it)  then one can begin to see the branches clearly, as our eyes will do, naturally.

By focusing on a particular object ( or subject ), we are effectively placing the image from the periphery of the retina to the fovea, the central part of our retina.  There are a lot more cones ( for color perception ) than rods ( for light perception) in that central region, resulting in improved visual acuity.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Wicker Basket Still Life

I publish my blog on the topic of Chinese Brush painting, but I have to delve into something very personal this time and it has nothing to do with painting.

 Today is my birthday.  What is significant is that I am not going to encounter this ever again.  I was born on November 11.  So regardless of what convention you use, date first, month first, or year first, today is 11-11-11, and I am going to publish this at 11:11.  Pardon my pensiveness.

My personal experience, and those of other novices whom I have dealt with, is that when we see
skinny lines, we automatically dialed down our grip and turned our brush into a point rather than a brush.  The result is the deposition of lines with a boundaries, but possessing no souls.

The concept of transmitting energy through the brush, penetrating the Xuan, past the felt pad, past the desk top is obscure but not mythical.  I suppose this is analogous to martial artists focusing past the pine board and punching through.  My mantra is let our brush make love to the paper, not just tickling the surface.

For my own practice, I chose to do a still life of a wicker basket.  The orderly array of weaves, thrown into this parabolic contour of the container, reminds me of something that the architect Frank Gehry might try to do.


It is important that I still try to write these lines instead of drawing them.  I tried to use a dry brush with varied ink tones to render the 3 dimensional appearance.  The shading effect is achieved  by using the belly of a dry brush.  This is a good way to ruin a brush, but  is a necessary collateral.
This kind of shading speaks of the T'sa technique mentioned in my prior blogs.  It puts down texture and changes light value.  The highlighted areas are void spaces.

This is a wonderful way to practice brush stroke, especially center tip stroke, without getting bored.