Confession

I was flipping through channels on my streaming device and noticed quite a few programs on the topic of Leonardo Da Vinci.  Obviously Mona Lisa garnered a lot of headlines.

I was fortunate enough to pay a personal visit to Mona Lisa at Musee du Louvre.  I must confess, I didn't see what all that hoopla was about.  I must be an ignorant smuck for failing to recognize and concur with the iconic status of this painting.  Did the painting derive its fame from tabloid gossips, artistry, or academia? Everybody wanted a selfie with Lisa.  For their Instagram accounts, I presume.

No doubt it is a great piece of artwork by one of the most famous Renaissance man, but what catapulted it to the throne of supreme art?  I was drawn in by the many docuseries on Da Vinci.  I definitely was intrigued. Tugging at me were all the fringe information about Da Vinci's family history, and whether his mother was a slave girl from the Orient.  However, what really interested me was why the Mona Lisa is so enigmatic.  I needed to know what I missed at the Louvre.  I wanted to learn about the painting itself, not so much as in who Mona Lisa was, but why the painting commanded so much attention, disregarding anything Freudian.

Soon I discovered that there were no eyebrows behind that enigmatic smile.  There were no harsh lines; all contour and light transitions on the face were feathered out, as nature intended.  The perfect lip and mouth was documented in the artist's notes, when he dissected bodies to study morphology and anatomy.  The enigmatic smile was further examined by apply a fair amount of Gaussian blur, at which point the smile turned into a big chin to chin grin.  This change is exemplified by placing the painting in our peripheral vision and moving it into focus, in the central point of our vision, hence  altering the quality of our visual acuity.. Thus the intrigue of the painting seems to be related to how it appears from different viewing angles, and that there is a scientific basis to the phenomenon.

One of these documentary segments delved with Da Vinci's brushstrokes and how he painted atmosphere; specifically how color is affected by the atmosphere as a function of physical distance.  The researchers went as far as to develop an algorithm to back date how pigment and color changed over time.  They applied their mask to digitally retrieve how Mona Lisa would have looked like on day 1.  The background of this painting assumed a different hue and feel altogether.  Now the digitally restored background wore a blue sky with mist further delineating the back row peaks from the front.

I for one, prefer the non-restored version.  It exhumes mystique, espoused by the darker tones.

But that's not the point of my dissertation.  I am trying to draw comparison to my own vivid experience with rendition of background.

When I started my painting of the Korean Maidens, I had clear intention of presenting an accurate picture of the culture, both in attire and architecture.  I even researched hanbok and chima, brought on by my search of crinoline and bustle.  Without a doubt my interest was on the two maidens.  They were the protagonists for my painting.

As the painting process continued, my autopilot disengaged itself and sought a new flight route.  I found myself steering away from the girls.  My attention was now placed on the background, the architecture itself;  especially the geometric lines.   The distraction was severe enough for me to halt my painting and re-evaluate my design.

I eventually painted a second version ( a practice I rarely subscribe to) of my Korean Maidens, with the emphasis on the geometric arrays of the building now.

I don't know if it was a conscious decision or a subconscious effort, the girls appeared smaller now in proportion to the background building.  There was no doubt what my focal interest was at.

That was the version I placed at a show.  During the course of the reception I got called out.  "You named your painting Korean Maidens, but I think you were painting the temple", said a viewer.

How astute.  She saw through me.

I proceeded to fumble for my cell phone, opened the Photo app and showed her the 2 different versions of the painting, each hinged on the different interpretations of the background.

I had surrendered my cerebral cortex to my limbic system during the course of my painting.

Unknowingly, of course. I confess.

Korean Maidens

Having seen the digitized roofing of my Hanbok painting, I decided to do something I rarely do.

To re-paint my painting.  This time with a roof.

For some reason I really resend having to do anything over again, not only paintings.  It is as if I was giving birth to something, whatever comes out is whatever I'll get.  When I work on a project, I seem to give it all I have at the moment, albeit that it might not be enough.  Perhaps I get bored rather easily, and can't bear to retrace my steps.   I'll have to live with the finished product, regardless of whether it's a success or failure.  Such is the bane of my life.

In order to re-invent this painting so that it will be fresh for me, I decided to start off with the background first.  Which means I need to reserve the spaces for my protagonists.

I suppose in oil or drawing, one just sketch out the space and leave the designated area untouched.  In watercolor I can use masking fluid, which is like a rubber cement and one could just paint over it. Unfortunately the Xuan that I use is like a glorified tissue and it cannot withstand the erasing, peeling of the dried film.  I need to devise a way to save my voids.

So I was invigorated.  I found something to tackle.  I was no longer bored.

I sketched out the intended silhouette of my protagonists on paper.  One of the changes I wanted to make in this new attempt was to align the clothing to the more authentic style of hanbok;  making the "A"  frame of the chima more Korean, and less of a skirt of the western flavor.  My first attempt at sketching out the figure had all the proportions wrong.  The body was too short.   Perhaps I was reading the chima still at the waist level rather than at the bust level.  I had to resort to the proportion of the body being approximately 7 and a half times the height of the head to double check myself.  As you can see I ran out of paper.

I drew two silhouettes facing each other and cut them out such that I could stage them the way I wanted.

I then positioned them on my Xuan

In essence I was hoping that the paper cut-outs would function as my masking fluid.  I could paint over them without violating the allotted space for my maidens.

I started with my support columns, knowing that a few of them juxtaposed with my maidens.  These are the skeletons on which the flesh of the painting attach to.

I removed the cut-outs after the background architecture was finished.  I was left with a void space in the shape of the silhouettes I fashioned.

The idea worked.  I was definitely not bored.

So I proceeded to work on the hair and the bows and ribbons on the hair.

I finished dressing one girl, and decided to take a rest.  I knew better to be headlong in the painting process.  There need to be a fine balance between the creative drive and the calm examination.  I had revealed my Id, now I wanted to give Ego a chance.

The critique I gave myself was that the girl looked too stiff.  By that I meant the brushstroke, or rather the absence of brushstroke.  The girl figure had a paint-by-number look to it.  The space was filled in with color and not brushed in, giving it a rather uninteresting feel.  Perhaps the fact that I was painting into a prescribed void left by my paper cut-out had something to do with it.  Subconsciously I was following a outline, rather than a form.  I became rather restricted.

Having diagnosed my own problem, I needed to paint the other girl with a more expressive brushstroke.  That was the note I handed myself.

I also decided on assigning a more "traditional" color to her costume, at least the stereotype that was perpetuated to me.  Again I am not trying to slight another culture by my own ignorance, I am just saying it.

I am hoping that you all agree with me that there was a lot more energy in the brushstroke for the girl on the right.  Chinese brush is such an unforgiving tool.  It can be so uncompromising, especially in exposing weaknesses.

By the time I painted in the shadows, the feet from the girl on the left disappeared.  I did not handle to dark tones well on this part.

Perhaps I was being pedantic but it bothered me to no end that I had lost her feet.  I would bet that nobody else but me would miss them feet.  I just couldn't get over it.  So I decided to put in light dabs of titanium white mixed with ink and gave a hint of something being present beneath the skirt.  

I know.  I am hopeless.

Hanbok, Chima

The color had thoroughly dried and the basic construct of the two maidens were done, I hung the sketch on the wall awaiting further development.  I had an idea of using a traditional Asian architecture as a backdrop, but I needed to crystallize the mental image a little better.  I find the process of hanging unfinished paintings on the wall a great way for me to work.  I can afford to be nonchalant and casual about my works, and allow ideas to slowly ferment.  Sometimes the realization takes a while, but more often than not, it comes to me in a flash.  The key word for me is patience.  Try not to force it.

My composition would be to employ simple geometric forms, using the hard, austere lines to contrast with the softness of the feminine figures.  I will also use ink, or shades of gray in the background to make my subjects pop.

I placed my two maidens in front of a classical Asian palatial courtyard, where the supporting poles and beams of the open-air breezeway furnished the elements of geometric lines.

I painted in the shadows underneath the girls, not only to provide them with a presence, but that mere shadow provided a spatial perspective also.

I needed to make the inside walls of the breezeway a lot darker;  not only to augment the depth perception and add to the spatial information but also to contrast with the colors of the clothing.

I chose to paint my dark wash from the back of my Xuan.  I fully exploited the translucent property of the paper.  The shade was made to come through from the back of the paper, and presented the viewer with that je ne sais quoi feeling of ambiguous reality.  It rendered a presence more than a form.

The above insert represents the back of my Xuan.  Note how all the brushstrokes from the other side (top side) is muted and yet very discernible.  It is on this back side that I applied my ink wash to effect the dark wall.

The insert below shows the right-side-up painting after the wash dried.

Tied up a few loose ends by a little more definition on the contours of the maidens and by painting in the anchors of the wooden columns.

More shadows were added on the ground for texture and perspective.  I put in some slanted shadow to breakup the strong vertical and horizontal lines.

Before I proceeded to painting in the roof, I hesitated.  Something, someone, tucked on my hand and said stop.  The vast void, where the roof tiles were suppose to go, was talking to me.

So I stopped.  

I am going to be patient and look at the painting on the wall and let it speak to me some more before deciding what to do with that void.

I know my journey started with the words bustier, bustle and crinoline.  After I settled on the idea of painting Korean garb I did a little more research and learnt that the traditional Korean clothing is called hanbok, and the skirt is known as chima.  In hind sight the chima seems to have a much higher waist line, almost just under the bust.  What I have painted is perhaps the result of my western influence innocuously filtering in. I was preoccupied with the likes of crinoline and bustle.  I have painted a normal waist line.  My sincere apologies to my Korean friends.  This is not intended to be disrespectful, I just didn't know any better.