Poetry by Wang Zhihuan (王之渙)

I'm not a scholar, literary or otherwise.

My Caucasian friends are bantering with me, each insisting our form of poetry is better and reaches deeper depths in our emotional abyss.  Neither my friends nor I are what one would consider scholars, so the argument is just a way to bond, strangely enough.  One thing that often rubs me the wrong way is however that they always use the term Haiku generically.  They call any Asian poetry Haiku and they think Chinese poetry is the same as Haiku. Thus their perspective is to compare western poetry to Haiku, which I know nothing about.  Sure lemurs and humans are all primates, but they really are not the same animal, right?  

Enough said. 

That leads me to thumb through my Tang Poetry 300, which is the only text book from my primary school days that is still relevant.  Granted I was too young to be pulled in by meanings of these poetries, but with age and life experiences I am able to distill more from the verses.  

I revisited a poem by Wang Zhihuan, a Tang Dynasty poet.

白日依山盡  黃诃入海流  欲窮千里目  更上一層樓   

"The sun disappears behind the hills, the yellow river flows to the sea.  If the wish is to see for a thousand miles, one needs to climb another floor."

The first two line describes the setting.  One creates the imagery of a a river, hills, disappearing sun and distance.  The next two verses however addresses a wish, a yearning, a philosophy.  This is when the poet urges us to use our own imagination, based on the framework that he has provided.  In fact the last two verses were extremely popular when I was a kid signing graduation year-books.  They are meant to inspire and encourage a person to reach for loftier heights, set bigger goals.  

I have this painting that's been pinned on my wall and I deem it incomplete.  It's missing something.  This poem somehow fits the narrative of my painting, with a few modifications of the painting, that is.

I altered the sky around where the sun would set to denote an impending evening, without revealing the actual sun.  As in poetry, the conjured emotion is more persuasive than the terse words.  

I increased the dark tone on the rock formations, especially around the bottom, to add perspective and to say that this is positioned directly against the light.  Thus this area should assume the darkest value.

Conversely I let the exposed rock formation from across the river assume a more orange-reddish hue, bathing in the setting sunlight.  The golden hour!

The problem with me is I often get carried away.  "Quit when you're ahead" was never my mantra.  The pedantic and pretentious me decided that I should write Wang's poem onto the newly modified painting, just so that I can satisfy the 3 absolutes; painting, poetry and calligraphy.

Chinese brush calligraphy is the bane of my existence, and to make matter worse, I opted for an easy way out.  Instead of using a proper Chinese round brush, I used a fountain-brush, one that has nylon bristles and an ink cartridge.

I can tell you now that this is not meant for calligraphy.  Put it that way, I'm not good enough to control this contraption to make it a calligraphic instrument.  It seems like this modern invention would only respond to my pressing but not lifting.   Not much modulations in the brushstrokes that I can see.  I seem to be nudging all the way.  Perhaps I had subconsciously planned to use this as an excuse all along.  

Fortunately this was all fun and game for me.  My ego wouldn't be hurt if someone disapproves my irreverence.  I thought I was being smart to use a gadget like a fountain brush and I didn't know better to not try it.  

At least I know now.  

Live and learn. 

When I wet mounted this piece, I used a single weight Xuan as my backing.  Apparently it was too thin and no match for the forces generated by the drying and shrinking paper and tears showed up.  Stress fractures!

I don't know if this has to do with the fact that we are having a hot day today.  92 degrees F outside and the room thermometer here registers 80 degrees.  Perhaps the evaporation was too much, too fast?  I've been told to not do any wet mounting in a hot room.  Could this be the reason?  This is something I need to keep an eye on in the future.

The 3 Perfections of Chinese Brush Painting

The 3 Perfections ( 3 Absolutes ) of Chinese Brush painting encompasses painting, poetry and calligraphy.  Whereas each of these disciplines is a curriculum by its own virtue, to be able to master all 3 earns the merit of achieving the 3 Perfections or attaining the 3 Absolutes.  The inclusion of these 3 elements gives the term Du Hua ( to read a painting, the preferred Chinese term for approaching a painting) a literal zest.

Not being able to produce good calligraphy is the bane of my existence.  As a kid growing up in Hong Kong, calligraphy was a necessary evil because often it was part of my homework assignment.  To this date I remember burning mid night oil to catch up on completing summer vacation assignments before school starts again in the fall (yes, teachers do assign summer vacation home works), and that usually involved finishing a thread bound booklet of calligraphy.  I was so ashamed of my handwriting that I seldom put my name on anything.  The pursuit of Chines Brush painting submerged me deeper in this turmoil.  The fact that calligraphy is the basis of any brushstrokes kept mocking me.  Unfortunately I had a teacher who told me that calligraphy is not important and oddly enough he never signs any of his paintings either.

When I started off this painting it was just that, a simple painting.  It was an etude one might say.  I was emulating a painting; studying its composition and choice of brushstrokes.   I felt the need to occupy the upper portions of the scene scape.  The thought of incorporating calligraphy came to mind.

In sheer coincidence, I am studying the calligraphy of Su Shi ( pseudonym of Su Dongpo) of the  Song Dynasty.    He was a scholar, poet and calligrapher amongst other things.  He wrote this poem during his exile, lamenting his sad political stature.  I took 4 verses of his poetry and wrote them in his style of calligraphy onto this simple painting.

A loose translation of the poem is

The River kept rising and is flooding my abode,
yet the rain would not stop.
You have kept me out by your 9 gates,
and the cemetery is 10 thousand miles away.

Su Shi was describing his bleak situation.

I found the writing describes my painting well..... an air of solitude, minuscule existence, gloom.

Obviously I am no great painter, certainly not a poet nor a calligrapher.  I did this piece of work purely by the karma of luck, having the ingredients of the 3 Perfections at my disposal.

Note:  in  Chinese culture, the number 9 also euphemistically mean  'a long time' or 'countless'.  Being kept out by 9  gates describes the abandonment of Su Shi by the Emperor.
Chinese culture then demanded a person to visit the ancetors' grave sites during this time of year, as a sign of respect and remembrance.  The fact that he was deposed and exiled meant that his trek to visit the cemetery would be impossible.  Ten thousand miles is not a literal measurement of distance, but rather a symbol of infinity.  Ten thousand miles meant insurmountable obstacle.