As I had discussed in the last blog, I was hoping that by having the light ink to trace with, I could be devoting one hundred percent of my attention to the quality of my brush strokes. I was trying to cheat a little bit by not having to internalize the piece as much. Though I would not deny nor negate the merits of that pretense, I found myself fighting the tracing. The emulation turned out to be a comprehensive process, and I was over-thinking and plotting it, hoping that I could do a better job by splitting the task into smaller components. Even the mundane effort of emulating and copying was not able to escape the inevitable deviation and personal interpretation of the archetype.
The following is a photo of the original Han Shi poem
One might say that I did an ok job in the emulation, but the persona of the piece has changed from a taut, chiseled and rhythmic piece to something that is languid and impassive, as if a steeplechase athlete had turned into a middle aged office worker.
Aside from the overall presentation of the piece, I was also critical of the quality of my brush strokes. I still did not have a good command of my edges and my brush tip.
Here is an example of employing side-tip instead of the center tip. The uneven edges betrayed my incompetency. The sharp edge on one side vs. the rough edge on opposite side of the stroke is a tell tale sign for a side-tip blunder.
Here is an example of tracing for tracing's sake
I seemed totally lost with this word. I seemed more worried about following the track than putting the brushstroke down with my own will. Wet noodles is how I would describe my brushstroke!
Here is an example of a nice center-tip execution. There is uniformity on both edges of the brush stroke and the character looks stalwart.
There is an ongoing debate amongst my friends as to whether non-Chinese reading people are better students at Chinese brush calligraphy. The notion is that if one cannot read Chinese, then the calligraphy is pure graphic to that person, allowing that individual to appreciate and examine the calligraphy in its purest and fundamental qualities. As for someone who reads and writes Chinese, that person has been exposed to and perhaps developed a habit of writing in certain styles and nuances, therefore a lot of the finer details in the brushstrokes are overlooked. This person already has a preconceived notion of what that word looks like, and is not always congruent with the Te that is at hand.
I submit that Chinese calligraphy requires an interpretive component. When we refer to such calligraphy, especially the ones that are good enough to be passed down as Te, they are not trivial recipes or shopping lists. Often times they have historical relevance and importance in literature.
This Han Shi Te is a prime example. In this poem the writer Su Shi wrote of the riveting disposition that he was in and screamed out the injustice and abandonment that he had to endure.
When we look at the piece as a whole, we can see that the font size is irregular, as is the spacing.
The fonts got bigger and bigger as Su wrote from right to left, especially with respect to certain words. The red circled area shows a distinct enlarging of the fonts, perhaps signifying the increasing drama in his thoughts as he proceeded to describe the dilapidated abode that he had to endure. The font size became huge when he wrote about the broken stove (blue circled area) that he had to cook in. He was pissed.
The characters with a downward ending stroke all showed exaggerated elongation and terse extension of the brushstroke ( circled in blue). This is the same as a sharp, long stroke on our "p's", "y's", "g's" etc. These could likely be Su letting off steam with these straight, forceful downward strokes; since they are not followed by another stroke. Su seized on this opportunity, consciously or subconsciously, to discharge his pent up emotions. These long strokes were his lightening rods, discharging.
I am just pointing out the fact that if one does not read Chinese, then one is missing out on the emotional aspect of this work. One would be missing the phrasing, the fortissimo, and the fermata of the composition.
Now lets take a look at the overall presentation. The irregular spacing and font size added to the artistic quality and gave this piece its character, especially when one takes into account its content.
The energy, or chi, of the piece derived not only from his expertise with the brushstrokes, but perhaps with the inadvertent display of irregularities, thus illuminating his state of mind.
I did an experiment with the help of digital manipulation and rendered all the fonts approximately the same size and the long downward strokes shortened to normal length. Inexplicably the piece lost its spirit. It is now a deflated balloon.
Such is the magic in beautiful calligraphy. It emanates not only proper brushstrokes, but a composition, contrast and proportion, like a painting. It radiates a scholastic mettle. It helps if one could read it.
This has been a fun exercise. I can always find useful means to exploit my practice pieces. They sometimes end up as window cover for the skylights in my studio.