Mounting problems

I have come across a really thin paper, known as the Cicada wing paper.  Very delicate, very translucent, very airy.  Paintings done on this paper have a different ambiance.  There is a loss of saturation with the ink and color, in exchange one gets an ethereal accounting of the brush strokes.  It is excellent with "mood" paintings.  It has a muted feel.

When it comes to mounting works done on this paper however, I was faced with all kinds of obstacles.  I was definitely in uncharted waters.

The paper tends to give up pigments and dyes if these are laid down too heavily.  This presents a grave problem in the customary wetting down the paper to relax the fibers before mounting.  To sidestep it I tried to apply starch to the mounting substrate instead and brush on the dry painting.  This alleviated the bleeding out problem ( for the most part ) but it was such a pain trying to brush out all the creases.  In fact I tore up a few practice pieces in the process.

After I finally got better at this, the final product was far from ideal.  Once the piece of "cicada wing" is fixed on a piece of substrate, it loses the very quality that gives it the tenuous feel.  I've experimented with different substrate thickness, but even the thinnest substrate I have is still too smug, breathless and stiff.  Imagine a beautiful lady donning elegant sheer lace, only to have the presentation destroyed by wearing something underneath the sheer garment.  You get the picture.

I experimented with not mounting the painting at all, but to just pin it down on foam board, and surround the work with a border of foam board.  On top of this border is the frame made with mat board.

 Basically I was playing with a float type presenting of the artwork.  The floating mat frame casted a delicate shadow and created a little breathing room such that the piece of cicada wing assumed a less restrained attitude.

This seemed like a workable solution to present works done on cicada wing paper.  In the meantime, I am looking forward to more experimenting in 2014!

Canada Geese Thank You Cards

I had an occasion to send out a couple of Thank You cards and I thought a couple of hand painted ones would be appropriate for this occasion.

Since I seem to be partial to Canada Geese, I decided to use them as my subjects.

These images were painted with ink and coffee on matted photo paper.

 

 

 

It's Kinda Private

It has been an introspective period.

I went and paid my last respect to a dear friend.  His family requested a painting from me to be carved onto his headstone and that had just been completed.

I was then invited to attend a party for the developmentally challenged.

There was a Blues band playing for the banquet and this young lady with Down Syndrome climbed onto the stage uninvited.  Normally this would have been a social disaster, but perhaps because of the company that we were in, nobody bothered.  Except for two people.

The young lady was enthusiastically swaying to the music, keeping time to the snares, having a jolly good time.

And the mom was busy capturing the daughter's every animation with her cell phone,  exuding utter joy from her face.

I couldn't help but think about the pure innocence and elation exhibited by the child, and the unqualified pride and amazement felt by the parent.  That was a private moment, even though the venue was a very public one.  Such was the dichotomy.  We could only guess, perhaps, what was going through the minds of these two individuals.

Kinda like viewing (or reading ) our paintings.  There is no mass hysteria, it is not a rock concert.  There is no protocol to like them, or to dislike them, it is not science.  We can talk till we are blue in the face about techniques, theories and what not but it all boils down to the private  conversation we have with our audience.  Our paintings are our ways of letting people take a stealthy  glimpse of ourselves.

Nothing else matters.  It's like taking  a stroll on a beach.  I'm awash in my own thoughts.

The thoughts are all mine, and they are kinda private.  I'll confide sometimes, somehow, to someone.

Arpeggios In Brush Strokes

Chinese calligraphy is sometimes recognized as the highest visual art form in Chinese art.  It is the foundation governing the use of the Chinese brush.  I have been told that a good calligrapher can evolve to be a good painter with relative ease, but a person naive to calligraphy could never be a good painter. 

I practise calligraphy not only to hone my skills with the brush, but because this was something ingrained into my upbringing long time ago.  Calligraphy was taught as part of the curriculum, even at the primary school level.  I now regret that I did not pay close attention to it during my formative years.  I blame this on the absence of inspiring teachers.

My current calligraphy teacher wanted me to do the grass script calligraphy. My teacher proposed a therapeutic goal of opening me up and allowing me to be more open and expressive.  I have read books on handwriting analysis; on how personality can be revealed by the manner a person crosses the T's and dots the I's.  This is a novel  idea to employ calligraphy as a tool to modify personality.

Instinct told me that the grass script  is the hurried style, when the person was writing in a hurry and the strokes were simplified and also became connected between characters.  This impression was supported by the amount of voids or empty streaks in the brush stroke, hinting fast brush speed on the paper, and the thin silk like brush strokes, again hinting speed and haste.  This style is carefree and elegant to me, all at the same time.

I tried writing them fast and furious.  I tried to write them standing up in my kung fu stands and using my hips and shoulders to effect change of directions.  I tried using dry brush so it was easier to lay down streaks.  I tried using a very stiff, almost wire brush like tufted brush to achieve better transmittal of strength from my body onto the paper.  I tried to gyrate and tilt my brush laterally to an acute angle, to obtain the sharp edge so I can demonstrate the fine corn silk like threads.

Boy was I wrong.  I have never been so far from the truth. I was so misguided  in my assessment that it wasn't even funny, especially to my calligraphy teacher.

Despite the  appearance of hasty cursive, I still needed to start slow and steady.  The form and energy lied within the proper execution of the brushstrokes and not merely the apparent shape.  The empty streaks were happy accidents and not from purposed manufacturing.  The thin threads were from natural lifting and the desire of the mind to go to the next character.  Thus my kung fun stands and using wire brush and tilting the brush amounts to a cartoonish  tracing and not "writing".  I was engaged in theatrics.  I was being superficial and ostentatious.

And this is so true.  More often than not, we were so consumed by gingerly trying to form the perfect image that we either forgot or were unable to comprehend what is important at hand.  We forgot what we must do to get there.  When we look at the photography of a prancing antelope we saw the grace and agility, but we forgot that was just one moment captured by the shutter. There was the running, the  recoiling of the legs, the arching of the back, the extension of the body and neck.  Everything happened in a fluid continuum and not as discrete micro movements.  Despite the best craftsman, mannequins are just that; and the figures in the best wax museum are only life-like, but do not exude life.  I was trying so hard to imitate each brushstroke, each character, that I lost sight of the flow and the narration of the script.  I was trying to create a quantum leap of a prancing anetlope from one that stood still.

So my calligraphy teacher demonstrated by writing just 2 characters.  They looked nothing like the original Te.  There were no thin threads, no streaking brush strokes.  Yet there was the palpable grace and energy which conformed with the grass style script.

After the benevolent brow-beating, I learned to look at the grass style writing in new light.  I settled down and concentrated not so much on the shapes and nuances but on the brush strokes themselves.
It became apparent that even the strokes seemed hurried, they still needed to be extended fully before changing directions.  It was analogous to snapping a wet towel or cracking a whip.  The tip needed to travel all the way  until it was fully extended before snapping back, thus getting that extra leverage to deliver that sting.

I also became more lucid about the delivery of the brush strokes.  I gave myself permission to be free from copying every single brush stroke, but to feel the whole string of characters.  Pretty soon a natural rhythm was starting to take shape.  Some characters felt better if the continuation is through several change of directions, while others  could be just one stroke. There is a cadence to this dancing of the brush.   I call this the arpeggios in brush strokes.  It is true that the arpeggio consists of progression of notes, but we play them as a fluid string rather than segmented stops.  And then when we get good enough, we can impart color and character to individual notes even in a legato.  In fact calligraphy is not unlike bowing.  There is the frog, the tip, up bow and down bow, much like  the belly, the tip and brush travel in various directions.  There are musical passages requiring successive down bows or up bows, or expressive frog to tip, or several bows to make one seamless note.  The pressure, speed and placement of the bow has to come from within, and not manufactured from a set of instructions.

There is hope for me. Yet.

To gel or not to gel

I have been continually amending my Beaverton Creek classic style painting for a while now and I am really afraid that one of these days I might go overboard and make it ostentatious.  I suppose I could not gauge for myself whether the painting is 80% complete or 99% complete.  One way to cure this urge and OCD nonsense is to sign off the painting and mount it.

I did just that, in my usual Xuan-Boo fashion.

 Xuan mounted on canvas

I mentioned that I would coat it with a gel medium as a final step, not only to protect the surface of the delicate Xuan, but also to restore the brilliance and depth of the ink and pigment after they have dried.  I remember when I was first starting out, I was so absorbed by the appearance of the painting when wet, only to be disappointed after it is dried, as everything dulls.  What if I find something that will retain that wet look?

My prayer seemed to have been answered by employing the gel coat.  It definitely brings back and depth and brilliance of the original attempts.

 left 1/3 coated with gel

 right 1/3 not yet coated

I've been criticized by people in the circle for doing this.  Perhaps of the glossy finish the gel imparts, or perhaps the look and feel is too non-Chinese?

I suppose some of us use hair dressing in our hair while others don't.   I am at peace with my choice.

Chiseled in clay

Tea was served while visiting my friend.

I was nervously fidgeting with objects on the coffee table as my mind was racing, trying to find a polite and meaningful conversation.  I am just not adapt at social gathering with people that I barely know.  More often than not, I was afraid to be too opinionated, once engaged in an exchange.  Surprise!

Then my sight latched onto this teapot.

I've always maintained that Bi-fa is the quintessential element in defining Chinese painting.  Here is a simple drawing of a dwelling on water.  None of the associations in this scene made any sense.  In fact it bordered on being absurd.  Nonetheless we know immediately this is a Chinese painting.

Was it because it has Chinese thematic objects?  Probably.  It was the Bi-fa, however, that I consider to be the calling card in this instance; albeit the work was not done with a brush but with a carving utensil.

The scratch marks detail clearly the starting points, progressing to lines with various pressure and width.  This is really no different from drawings made with pencils or charcoal sticks.  The pressure and speed and decisiveness of the strokes are clearly documented.  Thus the tracks made were not wet noodles, but lines with Li (strength, energy).  Bi-fa is used generically in this instance.

The layout itself follows the traditional landscape doctrine, subscribing to the Three Perspective practice, height, level and depth.

 hemp chuen           

Trees were depicted in the traditional abstract fashion.  Hemp chuen was applied to boulders in the fore front and hills in the right background, whereas the rock pillars on the left received the Axe chuen.  These are all classical methods used to describe texture and topography.

 axe chuen on pillars

 

So even with  clay, and without using a brush, the artisan still followed the tradition and demonstrated the traits of a Chinese painting.

Semi-sized vs Unsized Xuan

I was continuing my efforts to emulate Gong Xian's paintings;  I find his Jimo ( accumulating, layering with ink )  technique fascinating.

I started out using a regular Xuan, actually an excellent quality Xuan.  Right away I found myself ill at ease.   

One of my Achilles heels is the fact that I tend to doodle.  Perhaps this is an exaggeration,  but I tend to go over my my brushstrokes over and over again, must be my OCD.   I was hoping by honing my Jimo skill I will learn to be more decisive and discrete with my doodling, but the unsized Xuan caused a lot of bleeding.  It is true that I can still see distinct tracks if I hold up the Xuan against the light, but when viewed under ambient illumination, the  painting looked muddled, or dirty as we say.  I stopped before finishing the painting.

I dug out my semi-sized Xuan stock and tried to paint again.  The semi-sized Xuan is less absorbent.  The ink floats on top of the paper for a while before getting absorbed into the fibers.  Once the ink is dried to touch, I can pile on more ink/color and I can push the original track somewhat, while keeping the original brushstroke more or less intact.

Here is a side by side comparison of the 2 versions.  The one on the left is semi-sized.  The brush marks are better delineated.

I like the semi-sized Xuan much better for this particular exercise, and I took the painting to completion.

Sepia color achieved by using left over from my cup of coffee !!

Simple is as simple does

As part of the exercises of building my painting skills, I am always looking for interesting pieces to emulate; especially pieces that exemplifies brush strokes and composition.  I suppose this is learning by rote, but I look at it more from a standpoint of exploring and expanding my envelope.  It is no different from studying Paganini and Heifetz if I was a violinist.

The works I choose are  usually simple, not elaborate.  I can only take in a few things at a time.

I came upon 2 ink wash paintings.  My first impression was the paintings had interesting composition.  As I examined further into these works, I was intrigued by the  ink tones and the soft yet discrete brushstrokes.  The lines seemed to be blurry and distinct at the same time.

The first scene included a boat, waters, a hut and hills.  A dominant horizontal aspect described by prominent undulating contour lines and light value lines. The circumventing path punctuated with such subdued flair.  Neither the boat, nor the hut assumed a main character role, but they answer to each other across the hill, with the hut half hidden by bushes. The riveting bushes showed delicate tips by the ink layering technique.  (A different technique and feel was explored in my  Playing with Visual Acuity blog )

The second piece showcased a forest hiding a house, with a winding path/stream breaking the vertical lines.  The lessons to be learned here was how to handle the different ink tones and building up the branches/leaves to a pleasing form with perspective and attitude.  The painting made a deliberate statement about the relative positions of the trees in the foreground.  This was however, a more interesting example than the ones shown in the Mustard Seed Garden.

 

As I completed my emulation exercise, I liked the pieces so much that I researched deeper into them, and I was even more astonished.  The works that I emulated were by Gong Xian (1619-1689).  Imagine someone in the 17th century China emoting over the natural beauties and was able to depict them  in what seemed to be simple paintings. The simplicity was actually cloaked in interesting composition and brush strokes.  As it turned out, Gong Xian was credited with being the fore bearer of the Jimo (  accumulating layers of ink ) technique.  I am glad that I've at least identified the correct technique to practise on.  In fact, do these paintings not look like some of the contemporary works by western artists?

People have honored Simplicity as one of the merits/attributes of Chinese Brush painting, but just as Qi Baishi said with his catfish painting, to emote with a few simple strokes is difficult indeed.  Too many professed Chinese brush artists promise to show how to paint a fish or a bird in a few strokes.  Whereas the technique might be true, but the path to get there is not.

Beaverton Creek (classical) amended

I've received a lot of criticism regarding this attempt in a more traditional depiction of Beaverton Creek via Chinese brush.  Interestingly a lot of them had to do with composition and whether everything made sense.  The ones I found to be most valid had to do with my rendition of the fir trees at the upper corners.

The trees at the upper left corner looks like 3 incense punks, quipped one observer.  Fir trees do not grow in a single file row, quipped another viewer, pointing to the trees on the right.

I agreed with both of these assessments.  My excuse was that I was too intent on adhering to the Three Perspectives theory in creating this birds-eye view of the plot that I had fragmented the scenery into distinct cue cards;  not to mention the fact that the 3 punks did exist, albeit amongst much shorter woods.  In short, I failed to integrate and transition the different frames into one continuous strip.

I took the advice and added in trees behind the existing ones, and filled in some undergrowth bushes at the bottom of the fir trees.

This is how the amended painting looked:

Just for the heck of it, I took a black and white photo of the painting:

 

 

 





That was interesting!  I might try to paint this again in black and white, hoping that my brushstrokes will emote differently.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Vine Maple Trail amended

I felt something is amiss after look at the finished painting for a few days.  I found it to be a little bland.  Lacking oomph!  My eyes were wandering all over the image, finding no place to indulge.

I decided to ham it up a little. I wanted to accentuate the shadows on the trail.  I needed to restore the difference between light and dark.  I know light values assume a somewhat different presentation in Chinese brush, but I don't profess that this is a traditional Chinese brush either, :p

Trying to lay down water based color on top of a surface finished with gel medium is next to impossible.  The color just sits on top, beading up, as if water on glass.  So I took some gesso and mixed in the color I wanted and made my own color paste.  This worked exceedingly well.  Good enough to show brush marks!

Beaverton Creek Vine Maple Trail ,continued

Not knowing exactly how the bottom layer will come out after it has been superimposed, I decided to err on the cautious side and painted in most of the scenery, except for the obvious foreground.  I also did this bottom layer with a more exaggerated tone.  My theory was that this way the bottom layer would reveal itself better.

Then I decided to add a little interest to the work by painting in something dear, a Deer (bad pun).

 

 

Now it is time to do the top layer.  I put my translucent Xuan on top of the bottom painting, and begin adding in foreground information.

It didn't  take me long to discover a new problem.  What I was viewing through the top layer is not what it would look after the 2 pieces are glued together.  Gluing the two would have eliminated the air gap between them and illustrate the bottom layer much better.  In the mean time, I could only guess.

So I stopped and wet down the top Xuan, just to get a more educated view of the bottom.

 

I hoped to integrate the top layer better with the bottom layer.  I was hoping for a gradual transition from foreground to background.

Wanting to make sure that my deer is not so hidden, I re-painted it on the top layer for insurance.

 

This was how it looked when the 2 layers were mounted together.  While still wet, thus the color was more vibrant, and the paper seemed more transparent.

 

 

 

 

Then I found out what it is like when the 2 layers were misaligned by just a millimeter.  The eyes on the deer have migrated to the top of the head, instead of being lined up with the bottom edge of the ears!

Frantic reworking on the top layer solved that problem.

The painting lost some of its lustre after it was dried.

 

 

An application of gel medium brings back some of that color depth.

I was not too unhappy with the end result.  I wish I could have done a much better job on these trees.  Those are awful awful brushstrokes.  I forgot about "writing" them in and I am not proud of them.

I also realized that no matter how saturated the background colors were, they just don't show through enough to make a difference.  So for background information, it is better to be either succinct dark lines or large patches of color without intricate details.  I also discovered the color on the top Xuan really obscures whatever is on the bottom layer.  In order for the bottom layer to show through, I'll just have to have faith and do not embellish the top layer over the same spots.

Beaverton Creek, Vine Maple Trail

Vine Maple Trail is the main path that leads to Beaverton Creek from the parking lot.   It is a paved blacktop that enjoys filtered sunlight and cooler temperature in the summer and non soggy, non slippery surface in the rainy season.  It is my playground, my gym, my treadmill.

There is this bend in the road where boughs from opposite sides of the road embrace each other to form a series of archways.  With the morning fog and the low angle of light, it is simply ethereal.

I recently got a hold of some really thin and translucent Xuan.  The kid in me urges me to experiment with it.  I wanted to see if I could reassemble this image of depth and light and shadows by using this Xuan as a layer, as in photo editing .

So on this "background" layer, which is a fiber board with glued on canvas, I started to write down what I considered background information; footprint of the trail, trees in a distance.

There was a large fir tree flanking the right side of the trail.  At first I was ambiguous as whether to treat it as background or top layer.  But then I thought what the heck, I laid it down anyways.  If I wasn't happy with it sitting in the background, I could paint it again on the top layer.  Perhaps the 2 layers combined would give it more depth? 

Just to be sure, I found a partially painted piece of this special Xuan and laid the vacant portion over the fir tree.  It did not show through at all, to my horror!  Then I wet down the Xuan to make it more translucent.  Now the bottom image is coming through! 

So this little test validated my concept of top and bottom layers and now I can forge ahead.  My next concern is whether the bottom layer will come through like the way I envisioned it to be.  After all this is not not Photoshop where I can adjust the degree of opacity of the different layers.

Beaverton Creek Napolean

I can fondly remember the Napoleon ice cream in my days as a kid growing up in Hong Kong.  Strawberry, vanilla and chocolate flavors in pink, white and brown stripes.  The challenge was how to savor the treat for the longest duration before it melted away in the non-air-conditioned room.

I did the 3 styles of Beaverton Creek ( Beaverton Creek, Beaverton Creek Yellow, Beaverton Creek Classical ) to hopefully answer my own question; What is Chinese Brush painting.

I know I had discussed this topic in my last few blogs, I thought I would use these 3 pieces to illustrate my assertion.  The givens were, all three were done using Chinese brush and pigments on Xuan.

The most impressionistic of the 3 belongs to this one done in green.  The painting exudes a strong "feeling" that is abstract and yet tactile at the same time.  One can almost paddle the kayak through the water and be mesmerized.  Aside from the split hair and splash ink technique, it does not look very Chinese.  I'll submit this work looks more western than Chinese, despite Chinese brushes being employed.

There is definitely a lot more traditional Bi-Fa in the Beaverton Creek Yellow although the composition is not very Chinese.   It should be evident that the artist had  training in Chinese Brush landscape and uses "chuen" and contour lines to describe shape and topography.  Some of the lines depicting stalks and trunks showed center tip calligraphic characteristics.  So can we consider this one under Chinese Brush painting, even when its composition is identical to the top one?  Must a Chinese Brush painting look traditional?  When is this a "watercolor" as some might call it and not a Chinese Brush painting?

I am sure not a lot of people would have problem classifying this as a Chinese Brush painting.  So what is different about this one?

Granted the bridge was absent from the other two, but that does not make this more Chinese than the others.

We can't get very far from this discussion without addressing Bi-Fa again.  I still think this is the quintessential element in defining Chinese Brush painting.  One must show not only the presence, but the craftsmanship of the brushstrokes.  The traditional brush rendition of shrubs and shores helped to cement this in the Chinese Brush painting category.

We mentioned the Three Perspective concept in traditional Chinese Brush landscape paintings.  This work here employed all three.  The void space at the bottom of the woods in the distance added to the Level perspective.  The meandering shorelines and all the little details along the banks defined the Depth perspective.  Along with height described by the few stands of fir, one gets the birds eye view of Beaverton Creek; thus gently gliding over it, enjoying the little tidbits of information that each section gives off.

The composition falls within a classical doctrine..  a literal translation would be One River Two Shores.  The painting is dissected  somewhat diagonally by the creek, with contrast on both banks. Left bank is more densely vegetated, thus the Yang, The right side would be the Ying.   However the Ying side actually created conflict by harboring the attention grabbing pink trees. Leaves are present only on some of the trees, again creating contrast.   Complementing contrast is harmony;  opposite banks are linked not only by the bridge, but by tree trunks leaning towards each other, by the pink answering the blue, by sharing the ducks.

Although the painting employs many color, the overall feel is not "Su", or ostentatious.

I would not be so crass as to claim that I have thought of all these attributes before I laid my first brushstroke on this painting;  a lot of these points are anecdotal.  The fact remains that much thought has gone into these 3 paintings to raise a point, What Is Chinese Brush Painting.

Miss You, Bill

 

 

What is Chinese Brush Painting, not living in the past

Does Chinese Brush Painting have to mean Guo Hua?  I submit to you that time has changed and when we speak of Chinese Hua (painting) we are no longer limiting ourselves to the narrow definition of National Painting (Guo Hua).  This is especially true these days, with the influx of western influences, a lot of the strict rote doctrines have evolved into new windows of changes.  One thing that has not changed appreciably is the fundamentals of using the Chinese brush and the essence of Chinese calligraphy, hence Bi-fa or Gi Bun Gong.

It is not possible to think of Chinese brush painting and not talk about Qi Baishi (1864-1957).  Aside from being a personal favorite of mine, his style is so painfully honest and his brushstrokes so painfully plain.  As far as I am concerned, he "writes" all his paintings, and epitomized the Guo Hua art form.

Then there is the famous Zhang Daqian (1899-1983) who is famous for his landscape paintings.  In the following example, he was still employing the 3 perspectives concept and his small trees were still done in the styles shown in Mustard Seed Garden, despite his bold splashing of color.(click on the painting for enlarged view)

 

When  we talk about contemporary Chinese painter, Wu Guanzhong (1919-2010) comes to the forefront.  He is sometimes considered the father of contemporary Chinese painting.

 strong portrayal of brush strokes

                                                                                          (tree stump and chicks)

                   Banyan Tree             

 

 



Yang Ming-Yi is known for his Ink and Wash paintings.  Born and educated in China, he actually went to the US to further his studies and have exhibited all over the world.

 

 

  









There is a new evolving style in Chinese Brush painting, the Ling-nan style ( some would call it the Cantonese style ).  This style is characterized by vivid color;  colored backgrounds and exaggerated, boisterous brushstrokes.  From a glance it almost looks like a western watercolor painting but the brushstroke says otherwise.  The pioneer in this style was said to be Gao Jianfu ( 1879-1951).  Some of the more notable artists in this camp are Gao Qifung, Chen Shuren and Chao Shao-An for those of you who are interested in further research.

 

 

 

When we take a look at the following painting by Chan Yuk-lin,  does it remind us of  Chinese brush painting?  The composition and the color suggest that it might not be.

 

 

But then look at the textbook page from the Mustard Seed Garden on how to paint mixed foliage in the woods, coupled with the obvious Chinese Brushstrokes, what do you say now?  It showed the artist's superb ability to turn an etude into a piece that carries its own weight.

 

 

 

I'll conclude this series of  What is Chinese Brush Painting  by showing a couple of paintings by Wong Lui-sang.  The color and composition does not remind one of a traditional Guo Hua, but the brushstrokes employed, the trees, and the "chuen" lines ( brushstrokes used for denoting topography, see my "Mountain Lobes" blog on 2/29/13)  on mountains definitely affirm that this is a Chinese Brush painting.

 

 

 

I am writing this series to reiterate my feelings about the art of Chinese Brush, as I did in a previous blog " Beyond Exposure, Understanding".  I don't claim to be an authority in this subject matter.  The opinions here are what I perceive to be correct for myself.  I do not own any copyrights of the images used here and it is not my intention to pilfer them.  They are here for the purpose of illustrating my point.  Please also note that Chinese put our Last name first.  Thus Qi Baishi is Mr. Qi, he might appear as Baishi Qi in some literature.  I am hoping this would help with the appreciation and connoisseurship of Chinese Brush painting without being superficial or patronizing.