Seeing that my scheme of applying a mask, as if I was working with Photoshop, to my painting could transform my work drastically, I told myself, "Game on, baby!"
I discussed my mischievous intentions with a friend of mine and he accused me of cheating.
Really? This had not crossed my mind at all. Perhaps I had accepted Photoshop as an acceptable post-production in the workflow of taking pictures, and I had embraced the concept of layers and masking. Perhaps to a purist, this is considered cheating. I wonder if this is a by-product and necessary evil of digital photography. Anyways, my conscience is clear. Novel, perhaps; cheating, no.
My "test subject" is now ready for the experiment. I am using the same home cooked starch that I use for mounting on paper for this attempt. I use a soft brush to brush on my rising sun "mask" due to the thin and delicate nature of the cicada skin Xuan. I really don't want to tear it.
The cicada skin Xuan now sits on top of the starched original painting that was mounted on cement board. Careful and swift brushing ensures a flat and wrinkle free application.
Newspaper is used to cover the newly starched work and a brush with stiff bristles is pounded on top of the newspaper. This serves to force a tight bonding of the cicada skin Xuan to the painting underneath and the newspaper also helps to absorb moisture from the wet starch that seeps through the Xuan paper.
This is now allowed to dry at ambient room temperature. The saturation and transparency will diminish as the drying process continues.
Liquitex gloss medium and varnish is now applied to the dried painting. The Liquitex helps to restore the brilliancy for the color and acts as a protective coating. This is especially critical since I will be displaying the work without a glass covering. I am allowing the liquid to sit on selected spots a while longer before dispersing it to surrounding areas. The liquid seems to have helped bring out the transparency for the selected areas.
I get the following result after some minor touchups. This is now allowed to dry.
With matting now,
In the interest of documenting this transformation, I created the following composite,
Nobody likes my newborn baby. Everybody prefers the third iteration. They think that is a "real painting" and that it is "prettier".
I, on the other hand, do like the last version very much. In fact, I would go as far to call that a metamorphosis. The literal details of the original are distilled to almost a tactile experience. The sorghum has fermented. It is now crude and raw and in your face. I can feel the sun and its halo of colors. Or is it my cataract that is clouding up my vision. I can no longer call my piece a Huangshan sunrise because any discernable landmark is no longer. It can be universal, wherever trees populate. Had I not taken the trip to Singapore, I would not have such a revelation.
So, Thank You Singapore, for my New Dawn.
