Gazing out the window

I was learning about mental illness, being bipolar in particular, and creativity.  It was interesting to note that some of the renowned artists were afflicted with varying degrees of mental illness.  When I read about song writers, singers, entertainers dying from drug overdose or getting into trouble for dabbling with illicit drugs, my first reaction is the "chicken and egg" debate.  Which one comes first.  Is there any possibility that drugs actually free a person's constraint and enhance creativity?  Perhaps altered perceptions lead us to fresh plots?  Or are drugs just a way of life because it is fashionable. The state I am residing in has legitimized and legalized psilocybin, for medical use of course; as they put it.  Can "visions" be a valuable adjunct to creativity too?  Where is the line between a freak and a genius.  I know, these are harsh terms. 

In a way I believe those of us who paint are inherently dissatisfied with reality.  I mean why else would we paint a version that is different from the true, real object.  And then there are those of us who do abstract work.  Are we under the influence of colors and forms and lines and patterns, and not necessarily an identifiable and addressable object?  How do elephant trunk and chimpanzee hands produce works of art?  How does our gestalt work?  Can drugs or our mental state make a difference?

Before I get myself into too much trouble, I do want to stress that I am not suggesting mental illness is the same as drug use.  The only overlap perhaps is that somehow brain chemicals are involved, be it endogenous or exogenous.  It is a delicate task, just like mixing and obtaining a perfect color or hue, we need to find an auspicious balance of norepi, dopamine and serotonin.  There are so many feedback loops involved when it concerns our body and mind and we are understanding just a little more each day, certainly more than the days of lobotomy and electric shock therapy.  When your car engine is not getting the correct inputs, it can surge, sputter or simply quit on you.  And just like the internal combustion engine, some aren't happy unless they are run at 9,000 rpm, and some hum along merrily at just 100.  We are all different.

The names like Robert Schumann and Vincent van Gogh often come up as artists who have endured mental health problems.  I am not a great fan of Schumann's music but because of what I've learned about the person I have decided to look at his works with less myopia.  Ultimately I am still not quite a fan, but I do find his Piano Quartet very endearing, specially the Andante movement.

If we don't know about the lives of these great artists, we might think that everything is roses with them.  One might even say "I would do anything to be just like them," if one is an aspiring artist.  Atlas, only if we knew.  Are we really willing to pay that price knowing what they had endured?

I've heard a saying which basically states "We might find a Shangri-la when we look across a window, but once we stand right next to the window, what we see is life itself, with all its musings." 

     隔窗而望是世間桃源   臨窗而立是歲月人生 

Not everything is as what it seems, and the grass is not necessarily greener on the other side.

I have found the inspiration for my next painting.  A person standing by a window, gazing out.

I have in mind a high contrast, black and white brush painting.  I believe a stark black and white painting allows for more freedom of participation from the audience and evokes more empathy.  I also want to position my window strategically such that the proportion or the geometry will be pleasing to look at and helps to frame the protagonist.  I want my actor to ponder and see what is outside the window.

Life!

Just like paring food with wine, I am pairing my painting with the third movement ( Andante ) from Schumann's Piano Quartet, my newfound love.  I just love those long phrasings and conversations between the instruments, even from the viola, I might add.  I love it more than his Piano Quintet; such intimacy.  Listening to that music helps to give me context when I am doing this painting.

I am going to set the tone of the painting by writing the words of the above mentioned saying on the walls in the painting.  These words would be graffiti-like if you will, crass and territorial, but they serve as a dogma for my thought process.  I have a mental image of these writings obscured by the darkness inside the room eventually, either completely or partially, but metaphorically at least.  I haven't decided yet.  Just as they defaced the wall, they are in turn consumed by darkness. They shall resurface when light returns.  It is a cycle, as in life.  I'll cross the bridge when I get there.  For now they shall help to keep the mood playful.  This could be a dark painting, literally and figuratively.  I don't want to be too depressed; but pensive, for sure.  

Next comes my protagonist.

Years ago I did a painting "Going Home" and in that painting I tried to describe backlit tablecloth and sunlight filtering through drinking glasses.  I am trying to study my "light" again with this painting. Also, I am going to be using a female figure as my person of interest.

I am making corrections to the contrast to make her features more vivid.  More enigmatic perhaps. 

I am also dolling up the graffiti a bit by giving the words a shadow.  In the end these words might not be visible anymore but for now it is fun to play with the effects.  As graffiti should.

I am now beginning the process of placing her in this dark room by painting in the wall that she is standing against.  In the process, the negative space of the bridge of her nose and lips are defined by the dark wall.  Her hair too is now nicely fashioned.

The wet ink causes rippling in the fibrous Xuan, and the undulating paper actually adds another dimension to the painting.  Almost like a starburst coming in from outside the window.  Is this a sign?  I just wished that I could keep that effect in place after the paper is dried.

If I stop now and crop my paper properly, I might have a painting on my hands already? High contrast, interesting layout, half white, half black, framing my pensive actor.  Lots of blank spaces for the audience to fill in.  

Should I stop?

Soul and paintings

As I was wrapping up with my sketches of the pig, my thoughts were steered to posing the animal.
How could I make the subject matter interesting and cute, and most of all, auspicious.  My selfish motivation was to have a representational painting to welcome the Year of the Pig, which will happen in about 2 months' time.

Again I was faced with the choice of style for my rendition, whether to paint the pigs Gongbi or Xieyi style.  I just couldn't shake the shackle despite my understanding that this was so unnecessary.

My sketches were obviously line drawings, so I thought I would attempt the Gongbi style, but I knew my calligraphy was very weak and I was afraid to reveal my weaknesses.  The narcissist in me was urging me not to do it.  It was really cumbersome.  Before I could even wet the Xuan I was having trepidations already.    I was very conscious of the fact that since I identified myself as a brush artist, then I had better show my expertise in the brush.  I suppose Chinese brush has so much nuances about the brush tip, the flow and Qi that it has become very intimidating.

I had an opportunity to admire Vincent Van Gogh's works in their original forms and I came away with the impression that his lines showed none of the virtues I looked for in Chinese brush.  His tree branches, outlines of buildings and objects were what I would call wet noodles, totally devoid of the Qi that I was look for; and yet his works are so valued and admired.  Other than his bold, short brush stroke patterns, the quality of his brush was pretty monotonous.  Obviously this is purely my own impression.

Take his famous Sunflower painting for example

and contrast that with a Chinese painting

one could sense a huge difference in where the emphasis was.  Both were representational art, but immensely different in their impressionistic appearance and feel.  The Chinese painting was all about brush strokes and ink tones.  It displayed the intimate relationship amongst the brush, paper and ink.

Let us take a look at a landscape painting  Wheatfield With Crows by Van Gogh,

and compare that with a Chinese landscape painting by Chao Shao-An, a master of Ling-nan School painting

the intricate brush strokes of Chao was in stark contrast with the bold dabs from Van Gogh.

I remember an occasion when a fellow student told my teacher that she was going to paint a Chinese painting in Van Gogh style.  I didn't exactly know what she meant by it or how she was going to do it but my teacher was incensed.  He actually asked that student to not take lessons from him again.
The teacher was irate because he demanded the practice of Ji Ben Gong, the craft of the fundamentals.  Every brush stroke must encompass the calligraphic virtues by showing the tip used, flow and Qi.  His ire was more than a manifestation of tribalism.

Van Gogh was interested in Japanese paintings and he tried his hands in a few.  He painted this Courtesan

and here's a painting of a Dunhuang character from a Chinese painter, Zhang Daqian

again we saw how succinctly different were the way the lines were written.

I was hoping to present the notion that this is not a matter of which is better, or more valid.
How do you compare a Pinot noir to Huangjiu, or Moutai to Vodka.  Before we venture to compare these different alcoholic beverages, we do however need to know what they are and what makes a good Vodka or Moutai.  One would not try to find the hint of tannin from huangjiu.  A vodka bottled in a Chinese vessel does not make a moutai.  But regardless of whether they are brewed with grapes or millet, when these fermented or distilled liquid reaches certain levels of excellence, they shall all be appreciated and consumed.

Having said that, allow me to be the devil's advocate.  Allow me to pose a question.  Van Gogh's love for Asian art notwithstanding, could his Courtesan painting pass for Asian art?  If we found that painting in an attic with no signature to reveal the painter, what would our appraisal be?  Would that be an Asian painting done in Van Gogh style?  Or a western painting trying to emulate the Asian flavor.  What is Chop Suey?  Is that Chinese food?  When I see westerners put soy sauce in their tea I wonder if they were being naive, or was it their preconception that soy sauce goes with everything?  Could it be that they were just thinking outside of the box and was on an intrepid journey to explore tastes?  You might be surprised to learn that there is a soy sauce flavored ice cream!

I suppose the art of painting is not a monolith of just brushstrokes, or color or composition or style.  It is an amalgamation of all the techniques, but most importantly, emotion.  A great painting must have a soul.  A great painting must have a personality, one which moves us.

Soul is defined as an emotional or intellectual energy or intensity, especially as revealed in a work of art or an artistic performance.  The essence or embodiment of a specific quality; that je ne sais quoi.
Thus where I might deem Van Gogh as not possessing the calligraphic brush strokes, nonetheless his works effervesces in other ways and tugs at me just the same.  The standards and parameters are simply different.  A dog does not have plumage and a bird has no fur.  His works possessed a soul.

I suppose all I was doing was trying to convince myself again, repeatedly, to let go of my inhibitions and preconceived hurdles.  I should be worried about the soul and not the shell.

So I just painted whatever came to my mind, and not worry about the style

Incidentally van Gogh is pronouced differently in Amsterdam than from the States.  So should I insist, during the course of my conversation, that people here pronounce van Gogh the way Dutch do, as a gesture of reverence and risk coming off as a pompous orifice between the gluteus maximus ?

Oink Oink Oink