Third workshop at the Garden

For my third workshop, I had a plan to showcase one of the Garden’s Taihu stones as the star attraction. These stones are made from limestones found in Lake Tai in Suzhou, China. They’re known for their unique pores and holes, along with their strange shapes and appearances, making them popular choices for decorating formal gardens or courtyards.

Working with rocks and stones can be tricky, but it’s also rewarding. You need to get the right amount of chuen (wrinkle) and ts’a (rubbing) to create the illusion of texture and unevenness on the surface.

I also wanted to mention that I’ve found the Sketchbook app to be a really helpful tool for my workshops. The layers format allows me to move and resize different landmarks to create my paintings. It’s like having a real-time argument about how the placement of objects affects the overall feel of the painting.  

The Taihu stone that I have chosen resembles a person with a backpack.

I’ve got a fun idea for the workshop. I’m going to lead the participants to the spot where they can get a view of the stone. The avatar of a backpacking person however can only be perceived from a certain angle, and I’m curious to see how many people spot it. It’ll be a real eye-opener!

The backdrop of this painting would be the teahouse in the Garden.

I am going to use one of the examples of trees from Mustard Seed Garden to replace the tree in front of the building.  I want to expose the workshop to the materials from the Mustard Seed Garden.

With the aid of the Sketchbook app, I can turn on and off the different layers to demonstrate the composition of the proposed painting.

The actual photo of the Garden:

Extracted backdrop:

Trees from Mustard Seed Garden superimposed on the photo:

My person with a backpack takes up the lower left corner:

I am doing a proof of concept painting using a semi-sized Xuan paper.  My rationale is that the sizing makes the paper more forgiving, especially for the novices in the workshop.

Unfortunately I am not getting the Chuen and Ts'a effects to show up.  The sizing allows the water and ink to sit on the paper longer, thus minimizing the contrast.  Change of plan.  I'll have to bite the bullet and use the regular unsized Xuan, and hope for the best.

My practice Taihu stones definitely have more pop now.  The brushstrokes are more evident.

Fast forward to the workshop, the following picture shows what was actually painted in class, in a span of 90 minutes.  90 minutes of visual aids, vertical panting on an easel and explaining.  It was worth it. 

Second engagement at the Garden

There is a a corner window on the second floor of the Tea House at the garden that offers an interesting view of the layout of the classical Chinese garden in town.

This view presents an unassuming and somewhat uninviting perspective. It is akin to an onion, with layers that reveal themselves gradually, exposing the center of the onion. As one peels back the layers, they become acutely aware of the pungent aroma of the bulb and the emotional response it evokes, potentially leading to tears. This view demands careful observation, analysis, and emotional engagement.

The classical tiles and roof ridges are discernible in the two photographs above. The remainder of the building is concealed by foliage. If one overlooks the contemporary structures in the background, the enigmatic structure in the photograph is encroached upon by trees. I can barely discern a breezeway behind the bowed branches of the willow.

One can also see the structure is surrounded by a water feature, with access gained by the manicured and tiled walkway.

The main visitor's plaza or pavilion is kitty-corner from the water feature. 

If I were doing a plein-air session, I’d paint everything I see. The Garden’s small footprint makes it tempting to include everything in our field of view, which could result in a busy, illustration-like painting. This is especially problematic if I paint from a photo. Even a simple drawing from a classical garden design textbook, like the one below, seems busy and unbecoming. The western perspective lines don’t help. It’s subjective, but it’s not “artsy”.  

My job is to condense and eliminate the clutter and make my proposed painting "artsy" with a Chinese flair.  Condensing also serves another purpose, time constraint.  I need to plan a lesson that can be finished in 90 minutes, even for a novice, and with the interruption of my jibber jabber. 

Since I am going to be exposing the class to Chinese brush painting, I would be using the venerable Mustard Seed Garden.  There is no better introduction to classical Chinese methods than that.

I intend to draw the trees in accordance with examples from the Mustard Seed Garden.

and I will be hiding my enigmatic structure with the trees,

Trunks of the trees are written down, paying attention to not put all of them on a level line,

Assigning different varieties of leaves to the trees, to present a mixed woods look.  Also penciling in the enigmatic roof lines.

Using broad side-tip brushstrokes I have the visitor's pavilion written in along with the proverbial background foliage.  Those are placed as background items. The location of the gazebo-like pavilion has been moved to a more distant background, to make the grounds appear much bigger than it really is. 

Thus the whole painting is written with simple brushstrokes.  I have the suggestion of a pathway and water.  The painting is really about an expression or sentiment if you will.  It is not about painting everything we see.  It is permissible to move things around to compose our painting.

I am making the lower left corner much darker in value than the upper right corner.  Thus there is a contrast of dark versus light, near versus far, dense versus sparse.  Those are the elements one looks for in a Chinese painting.  Harmony and contrast; who's the host, who's the guest, showing a tangible relationship amongst the subjects in the painting.  

To add a story line to the painting, I am going to introduce a person.  Again I am going to rely on my trusted buddy Mustard Seed Garden to provide me with an example,

a simple contour outline of  a person with folded hands in the back; a pretty familiar portrayal of scholar in the days bygone. 

The painting is now complete. The viewer can now actively participate in the formulation of the painting's story.  I must say, I have totally revamped the garden.  The painting looks nothing like the photos.

Just to make sure such an exercise is possible, I am timing myself in earnest now and see what I can produce in approximately an hour's timespan.  This would allow me time to explain and demonstrate to the workshop.  I'll have to do that on an easel, which is not the usual flat on the table position.

On my rostrum

I have been invited to conduct several painting classes for our local classic Chinese garden. This came as a genuine surprise to me. While I may be enthusiastic about Chinese brush painting, I certainly do not fit the bill as being erudite. Perhaps it is my affable disposition.

The Garden is situated in Chinatown, a neighborhood that is often associated with negative connotations. For some reason that is beyond my comprehension, Chinatowns invariably seem to be located in run-down areas. In our case, the homeless and drug problems further exacerbate the fragile existence of this place. A fence enclosure provides some distance from the random rocks being hurled at the windows, and visitors to this attraction must be buzzed in. It is not uncommon to encounter homeless individuals relieving themselves on the street in front of visitors, blocking their path.

Despite its small footprint, a mere city block, the Garden was constructed with craftsmen from Suzhou, a city renowned for its formal gardens. Therefore, it is certainly not a copycat or imitation facility. It strives for authenticity. 

My job is to introduce Chinese brush painting to novices.  

I stressed that I won't be conducting any plein air paintings.  The small plot of the Garden means that skyscrapers form the backdrop around the Garden.  Everywhere one looks, one sees city buildings competing with the classic architecture of the Garden, and is most disconcerting.  Thus I am hoping to coax the class into internalizing the features of the Garden and then distill that feeling into a painting.  In other words, compose our own canvas, or in this case, Xuan paper.  Additionally, perhaps more importantly, the painting needs to be able to be finished in an hour, give or take. 

I've taken liberty of utilizing a file photo of the Garden

The photo is probably ideal for plein air setting, but feels non-Chinese, if there is such a thing.

I lifted part of that photo onto my composition, 

Then I incorporated an example of a willow from Mustard Seed Garden.  I intend to borrow from my own journey in Chinese brush, having to study that compendium as part of the rote learning process.

Below is the new layout for the Garden

So this would be the distilled version that I shall attempt to paint.  Simple lines that even a novice can handle.

To translate my thoughts into executable plans, I need to make sure it's feasible, even in haste.  

Nothing fancy, just lines one can write.  

In the mix would be a few examples mixed foliage, as illustrated in the Mustard Seed Garden.

another try,

I think I succeeded in transforming a photograph into something more like a painting, a painting with a Chinese persona.  

The first painting looks a little busy, and the willow is a bit loud and does not yield to the background.

Thus the entire painting looks flat, as if everything is on the same plane.

The second one looks more poetic for sure.  There is contrast in scale and multitude, and a quiet elegance to it.  To fortify the relationship between the lonely willow and the buildings beyond, I am adding a boatman traversing in a boat.  That boat is plucked from the Mustard Seed Garden. The viewer can fill in the blanks with their own version of the story.  Where did the boatman come from, or where was he going to.

Since one of the brushstrokes that I will be covering is D'ian (dot), I decide to work another iteration with the impressionistic portrayal of waterlily, or duckweed, depending on the context. These are simply darker dots written within lighter dots while they are still moist.  

Okay class, here I come. 

Ci En Pagoda, the middle ground

Picking up from where I left off from the last session, I am filling in the empty spaces of the foreground, framing the temple structure in the process.

I am assigning different kinds of leaves to the shrubs and trees.  This is a rather typical way of depicting mixed woods as illustrated in the Mustard Seed Garden manual.  

This being the foreground, the brushstrokes are more delicate and mired in details.  The space is now filled with an assortment of vegetation.  It looks busy but not stuffy.  There is still a leisurely feel to it.  I am keeping the trunks as void spaces, to add contrast and style to the composition.  

Before I get myself into too much trouble, I have decided to move onto describing the middle ground, with the Ci En Pagoda as the focal point.  I am including the customary boulders along the shoreline, and I am adding steps path next to the pagoda, as a means of hinting at someplace beyond the paper, hidden in the depths of the hills.  Again, this is done with the intention of satisfying the depth perception of a "classical" landscape painting, trying to account for a story that goes from the front of the painting to the rear of the painting.  

The pagoda is colored in using the photo as a reference.  A reflection of the pagoda is painted in the water.  I just couldn't resist that.

A waterfall is added as an afterthought.  The location of the waterfall is not ideal, since I had not planned for it.  I am having difficulty visualizing the source of the fall.

I shall leave some voids above the waterfall.  One can interpret that as misty cloud, or a snow patch, or whatever.  Perhaps there is a gulley up there where a hidden stream that feeds the waterfall flows.  It helps to conceal some of the details of the mountain.  I am letting the viewers to engage their own imagination.

Trees are planted in all the low areas of the landscape, where water would gravitate.  This being farther away from the viewer, I can get away with not panting individual leaves or branches.  I shall use the silhouettes of trees o narrate the scene.  

I could stop right here and call that a finished painting.  The color and hue is not quite as bold and awkward now that the paper has dried.  It certainly has matured into a painting.  But, that is not what I set out to do.  I still need to deal with the background.  For now, I shall take a break.  

Attempting a classical landscape painting

I kind of missed my yellow mountain piece after I toyed with it by adding a rising sun.  Perhaps I should settle down and work on another landscape painting; one that is more "classical".

Of course that is just me mumbling to myself.  I am not sure I fully understand the word "classical".  Can I reduce it to the simplest term, something that reminds me of the past?

I am reminded of the days when I was a student of Chinese brush painting and the hours spent in repeating and emulating everything that was in Mustard Seed Garden, hoping to my my work look "authentic" by being "classical".  Aside from the different brush techniques, I also learned the doctrines in classical landscape paintings, and one of those deals with perspective.  Scattered focal point is one thing, but more interestingly is the 3 perspective in the composition.  I am not referring to anything remotely related to say the vanishing point perspective.  Specifically the perspectives that govern landscape painting are the height perspective, the depth perspective and the level perspective.

Height perspective is as it suggests, the perspective of dealing with height, how the viewer is to perceive altitude.  Hence the peaks have to be soaring, and cliffs precipitous. The so called "level" perspective is actually what we would construe as the depth perspective; how to distinguish near objects from objects that are farther away.  Our depth perspective actually describes what goes on from near to far.  In other words, the painting needs to show not only the relative distance between objects, but how these objects are linked.  By placing person pushing a cart on a trail around a bend going behind a hill is a good example of our "depth perspective".  The artist fabricates an event or story line that directs the viewer's attention from foreground to background.   I personally deem this the most unique thing about "classical" landscape painting. 

Certain requisite features are often present in a "classical" landscape.  One will almost always find boulders, hills, mountains, streams, water, mist, waterfall, outcrops dotting the scenery.  From there one sometimes can see incidentals like shacks, vessels, foot bridges, animals etc.  A flat platform is sometimes included to add interest.  I was taught dots form lines, and lines form planes. So the ability to describe a plane, often sitting on top of a precipitous is one way to showcase the artist's proficiency.  This is no different from a pianist or violinist demonstrating their virtuosity when playing the cadenza during a concerto.   

Yes, there are indeed a lot of things to look for when enjoying a classical landscape painting.  And yes, it can be quite pedantic.  

I often grabble with the notion of a contemporary painting "classical" landscape because somehow I identify that as the product of rote learning and one is just regurgitating what someone did years ago.  I certainly understand that some of the "classical" landscape is impressionistic and full of symbolism, that the peak is the emperor and  he is adorned by his subjects. Nonetheless I would prefer us contemporary practitioners painting something real and that people can relate to, or moved by, as well as being beautiful.

Having said that, my assignment for myself, my so called "classical" landscape, shall adhere to the things I've learned as a student ( most of it anyways) and still harbor a bit of truth, as in real landmarks?

More aptly, I am borrowing a "classical" setting to house modern day landmarks.

I hark back to my trips to Taiwan, a couple of places in particular, that could fit into my landscape painting.  One of those places is Jiufen ( Jiufen Old Street) and the other is the Sun Moon Lake, where Ci En Pagoda is located.

This is a photo I took of a temple by the bus stop up by Jiufen.

and this is a photo of the Ci En Pagoda at Sun Moon Lake,

A common format of Xuan paper has the 2:1 ratio, the height being twice the width.  So I am loosely following this particular format.  I am painting on the Cicada skin Xuan.  It is more forgiving with my less than stellar techniques.  

I am putting the temple from Jiufen in the foreground, and the Pagoda in the middle ground, and the background shall be a continuation of the mountain range.

I am using the classical ways to paint trees and shrubs, as depicted by the venerable Mustard Seed Garden.  I am leaving a lot of spaces between my different objects.  My intention is to fill in with leaves and dots.  Something impressionistic and spontaneous, to break up the solemnness of a "classic".

I am placing tall trunks on the paper for my trees.  They could be lodge pole pines or firs, but for now they appear more birch-like.  Oh well, that's not important.  I've done such tall trees in my Multnomah Falls paintings, and trees are abundant in the Pacific Northwest, so that's something I can relate to.  For heaven's sake, I was once employed by a plywood mill. 

I have included a flat platform with a trail at the bottom.  I am a good student.  But seriously, that footpath is my adherence to the depth perspective.  The viewer's attention shall, hopefully,  follow that path to somewhere behind the foreground, and attempt to imagine "what's behind that."

Making it real now, coloring the temple, using my photo as reference. 

What are those circles

 At a recent exhibition some visitors ask me "what are those little circles?".  They are referring to my Red Cliffs Nostalgia painting.

Apparently they are not familiar with the impressionistic representation of leaves on trees/shrubs in the genre of Chinese Brush. This way of expression is actually extremely common in Chinese Brush landscape paintings.  I assumed that everybody is well versed in it and never gave it a second thought, until now that is.

There are numerous examples of how to paint trees, shrubs, leaves in the Mustard Seed Garden, a gold standard reference book for students of Chinese Brush painting.  For those who are familiar with this text I would be guilty of preaching to the choir.  For those who are strangers to the reference, allow me to illustrate some examples from the book.  I tried to research corresponding material in English and I couldn't come up with any, but I did come across terminology that is alien to me, terms like lanceolate, reniform, orbicular, sagittate.  Well, you get the picture.  

Aside from using the disc shape, there are other shapes that are utilized; some are more readily relatable than others.  The attached reminds me of aspen, alder and ginkgo leaves.  

Do these leaves not remind one of rhododendron or azalea?

Simple lines can be used to depict leaves.  The following example illustrates using upward bowing and downward bowing lines:

How about simple vertical or horizontal brushstrokes:

When my painting teacher showed me how to depict bamboos in landscape painting I thought he was painting telegraph poles along a railroad track.  Poles with horizontal cross members with telephone wires and power lines attached.

Then I had a chance to visit the countryside in China and saw the groves of bamboo:

I came to realize that that it is indeed an accurate way of describing bamboo impressionistically.  Bamboo branches grow out from the nodes of the long stem thus we are seeing clusters of branches at regular intervals along the length of the bamboo, resembling the telegraph poles that I alluded to earlier.

Center-tip or side-tip brushstrokes are used to form recognizable clusters of leaves.  The cluster on the right is written with side-tip and it has a different flavor from the center-tip on the left.

Dots and thick lines are also used for leaves:

These are only a few examples that are listed in the Mustard Seed Garden and there are many others.  I bet libraries would carry a copy that one can look at.