Born Free

My latest landscape painting with the Central Oregon theme has gone through a few tiny revisions here and there and I am resigned to accept it as being done.  I've been ruminating on how to mount this painting, if at all.  I am trying to not mount or frame every piece that I have completed ( the ones that speak to me anyways ) because I don't want to be hoarding all these pieces, collecting dust.  Anyways this is one of those works that pulls me to the wall now and then and I feel like that it deserves a stage.

My last landscape painting, Chibi Nostalgia is mounted on canvas; the method I coined Xuan-Boo (Xuan paper on cloth).  I like its presentation so much that I am going to make a companion for it.  It just happens that both paintings share the same 1:2 aspect ratios.  A lot of Xuan paper come in that native ratio, i.e. a 4 foot long piece would have a 2 foot width.  My Chibi measures 18 in x 36 in and this new piece is a little junior to that, at 15 in x 30 in.  I fashioned my canvas using a piece of canvas drop cloth wrapped around a wood frame and covered with gesso. 

Starch is used for the wet mounting process.

The over-hang margin is tucked under the wooden frame and secured with starch. The over-hang conceals the bare canvas, and gives the piece a more "finished" appearance. 

A dry broad stiff brush is used to pound on the surface, under the protection of a couple sheets of  newspaper.  This pounding process is my poor-man's press; it helps to form a good seal between the Xuan paper and the canvas.  The newspaper also helps to wick up excess moisture and helps with the drying process. 

The freshly pounded painting is left in a cool corner to dry.  A slow drying process is preferred, as it ensures even drying and thus tightening of the paper.  Quick, uneven drying can lead to warping of the frame with this mounting method.

The wet Xuan paper is extremely fragile and delicate at this stage, and any rough handling or even thumbing on the painting could cause a tear.  I have many procreative expletives for those occasions.  I learn my lesson the hard way.

The mounting is totally dried after a day and one can handle it with relative ease now.

I apply a coat of Liquitex gloss medium and varnish onto my finished mounting.  The medium helps to restore the "wet" look of the painting, as if the Xuan paper was still wet.  I can also look forward to it forming a physical protective film over my painting, defending an occasional errant fingerprint. 

I know it is rather difficult to discern the difference between the coated and the un-coated pieces from these photos, especially after they've been transferred and uploaded and are subjected to web constraints.  Hopefully one can see the bottom version ( coated ) looks richer, more vivid and reveals more detail about the brushstrokes.  It has more depth. 

Many will argue that this coating process destroys the "paper" ambience, especially when it relates to paintings done on Xuan.  The coating renders the painting more like an oil painting than a painting done on traditional Xuan, especially when I mount it on canvas instead of a scroll.  I know and I don't disagree.  God knows I've received tons of flak for my practice.  The trouble is, I do enjoy this variant and I think some of my paintings benefit from this presentation. I try to employ this method judiciously. 

Painted 1x3 boards are used for the frame.  A dado blade carves out a narrow channel around the inside edge, framing my canvas mounted painting and wearing a more polished look. 

I name this piece Born Free because of the 14 horses; being somewhat obscure notwithstanding.  

Sulio Xuan Ban and Xuan Boo in action

I have mentioned my unique ways of mounting Chinese brush paintings in my blogs.  Xuan-Boo is how I mounted Xuan on canvas.  Suliao Xuan Ban is mounting Xuan on plastic.

I have been labelled as being "gimmicky" by the camp of traditional brush artists.  In my defense, I was motivated by circumstances.

The traditional way of mounting Xuan on paper or silk is great.  Unfortunately, having paintings mounted in a scroll format demands skilled craftsmanship.  There just aren't too many of these floating around when one is in a town where such crafts are rather obscure and esoteric.  I could have mounted the Xuan on paper and present it in a picture frame, but I see two limitations.  The first one being the glass frame imposes a glare, and museum grade non-glare glass is not economical and not often available in the odd sizes.  The second factor is that the painting loses the vivaciousness once dried.  I like the wet look so much better.

When I first fooled around with Xuan-Boo, I was instantly attracted to it.  The texture of the canvas and the color luminosity being restored by applying the protective gel.  The application of gel was to protect the surface of the painting from the usual indoor elements.   I had no idea that it added to the depth of the color.  That truly was serendipity in action.

I really like a lot of the "metallic" prints of photographs and the way they were presented.  No frames, just sort of floated from the wall.  That was my inspiration for devising the Suliao Xuan Ban technique.  I compromised on the absence of frame by creating a clear margin around the painting, allowing it to float on the display wall.

There are ongoing debates about the merits of wet versus dry mounting.  Chinese wet mounting has been the gold standard in the traditional way.  Having done both I would say that a nicely done wet mounting is superior to the dry mounted one.  This is especially apparent when one can hold that piece of work in your hands.  It just feels organic and not mechanical.  A point that the wet mounting camp stresses is that a dry mount is irreversible.  Museums have been know to re-mount a piece of deteriorated ancient work and restore the painting.  This would not be possible with dry mount.  But then again, how many pieces of our works gain immortality?  Of course the main reason for dry mounting is that the execution generally requires less skill, and is definitely not as time consuming.

Some people at the local galleries balk at the idea that the painting is mounted.  They asserted that the painting must retain the flexibility of being  able to be presented in the frame of the customer's choosing.  In other words, the consumer might not like the way I presented it, and would need to replace the frame.  They are in effect paying money for the painting itself and nothing else.

Recently I had a chance to present exclusively my two methods of mounting at an exhibition.  I did that obviously to satisfy my own biases and I really don't expect the audience to know one way or another.
It was gratifying to see how my presentation was so vastly different from everybody else's.

These are paintings done in the Xuan-Boo fashion:

These are done in the Suliao Xuan Ban fashion:

Call me a goofball, call me a gimmick,  I'm just not satisfied with the status quo.

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.

7 Years Ago, 2005

Last week I hopped onto a plane and traversed 1000 miles to go back to my birthplace, Hong Kong.  My mom will be 90 this month.  I am going to wish her Happy Birthday in person.

What kind of gifts should I bear.  My family is not big into this tradition at all.  In fact, we are not into celebrating birthdays at all.  I need to show my thoughtfulness and affection without any materialistic overtones.  Why not paint her something.  This grand idea hit me the week before my departure.
The painting I wanted to write for her is one by Bai Xueshi, a contemporary landscape painter.  I have used his work for my collaborative painting post on 4/22/10.  In fact I have used this piece of work as an example ( similar to using tie in calligraphy ) just recently.  With a goal in mind, a deadline to beat, a painting to emulate,  and adrenalin flowing free, I forged ahead.

The premise of the painting is really simple.  The painting is seemingly split into two halves by the water line, contrasted with elements of "sparse" on the right and "dense" on the left.  The two fishermen on bamboo rafts are thus framed, being highlighted by the void space.

What I have done differently this time is to write the bamboo first.  I then filled in the mountain pillars and their reflections.  The rafts take up the last act.  I learned this sequence the hard way.  What I had done in the recent past was to paint the landscape first.  The coloring actually sized the Xuan paper.  By the time I was ready to lay down the bamboo the paper is no longer as absorbent and the ink ended up just sitting on the paper.  This affected the brush strokes and raised my anxiety level quite a bit.

The above picture showed finished landscape, without the rafts and script.

This picture showed a "failed" painting, not only in terms of the qualities of the brush strokes, but also in the lack of control of ink bleeding.

Here are the 2 attempts pictured side by side.  My mom received the one on the right.  This is the one where the bamboo was done first. There is a far better control of shading and diffusing of the ink to show dense clusters of leaves.  The clear brush marks on the reflections of the mountains left no doubt about using splash ink side tip technique.  The treatment of the outside borders of the mountain added complexity to an otherwise plain splash ink stroke.  The darker center pillar brought itself front and center and pushed back the other pillars to create depth.  The faint and yet distinct water line separated the land mass from the water and created a virtual shoreline.  As a whole I am pleased with my efforts this time, except for my calligraphy.

What made this painting especially meaningful for me, and for my mom is that back in May of 2005 when I visited her, I was just starting to study Chinese Xieyi landscape.  I chanced upon this painting and I unabashedly painted for her.  My mom was (is) so proud of this that she scotch-taped it to the wall of the living room and would tell any visitor who cared to listen that "My son did this".

I did my "good" painting this time in the Xuan-Boo fashion, mounted on canvas and protected from the Hong Kong humidity by Golden gel medium.  It is obviously interesting to make a comparison of
my works, 7 years apart, almost to the date.  The important thing is, mom likes them both; because I did them.