A river of spring water flows eastward

What is the meaning of that.  On the surface it looks like a literal translation into English using Google Translate of some foreign language.  In this case it is precisely that.  This is a famous quote of the writings from the last ruler of the Southern Tang state, Li Yu (c. 937-978).  For those of us who read Chinese, the words are "一江春水向東流".  Ostensibly these words led to his death by poisoning by the second emperor of the Song Dynasty, Taizong. 

The Southern Tang state was conquered by Emperor Taizu of the Northern Song Dynasty and Li Yu was held captive, sort of like a POW in today's sense.  Li Yu was well versed in painting and writing and was particularly well known for his poetry.  Late in his captivity, he was expressing his sorrow and frustration and anger through his poetry.  I shall attempt to translate the poetry that purportedly led to his death, decreed by Emperor Taizong of Song,

"The flowers in the springtime and the autumn moon are like perpetual clockwork, are they able to account for all that has transpired ?  East wind was again blowing in the pavilion.  Under the cloak of this moonlight, I am not able to bear the memories of what once was my country.  The buildings and architectures are still there, but the faces are different.  So how much sorrow can one harbor, just like A river of spring water flows eastward."

The river of spring water was used to quantity and characterize the magnitude of his relentless agony and despair.  

It is plausible that this poem angered Emperor Taizong, who ordered Li Yu's death by forcing him to swallow poison.  Ah, politics!

I have this painting of water that is done in a rather morose, dark tone.  A splash of color is offered by the petals on branches of flowers.  Spring blossoms.  I think the painting fits the aforementioned poetry, in spirit perhaps. 

This is a rather large painting on Xuan, measuring 4 ft by 2 ft.  I happen to have a frame that can house this painting.  I am going to present this work on a canvas board. 

A piece of paint drop cloth is glued to a 3-ply board using spray adhesive. I have tried using my homespun starch before, but this large surface worries me.  I am concerned that the wet starch could warp the wood, especially after the wet drop cloth dries and tightens up.  The spray adhesive dries fast but is less forgiving than starch, with regards to aligning the fabric properly.  I am therefore using clamps and taking my time to ensure accuracy in placement.

A stiff brush ensures the bonding of the two surfaces by tamping.

The finished canvas board looks nice and smooth.  Not a wrinkle in it.  

Since I had luck fitting the canvas cloth over my wood board using spray adhesive, I am going to attach my painting onto the finished canvas the same way.  It is when I hover the frame over the mounted painting that I see a problem.  The painting is about one inch smaller than the inside of the frame, and it can use a picture mat for borders.  Unfortunately, mat boards come in 40-inch lengths and my painting is 48 inches wide.  

A quick search finds me wood veneers used for covering edges of cut door panels for cabinet making.

They come in a variety of widths and have iron-on glue backing.  This turns out to be a brilliant idea to fashion my custom border using wood veneer.  Just unfurl the roll of veneer, cut to length and iron on! 

Finished border using white wood veneer.  Looks professional, does it not?

After all the fun, the finished product,

The title " A river of spring water flows eastward" probably means absolutely nothing to the viewer, especially in the absence of context.  It is quite esoteric and it really requires a certain background and knowledge of Chinese literature/poetry.  I am going to name the piece "Soliloquy-Moments".  I trust this title is more palatable and gives the viewer a lot of freedom to concoct their own interpretation.  To reflect and talk to themselves. However they want it.  

Wet mounting my two black and white pieces

Now that I've finished painting the two black and white pieces of works, which began with a notion that I could depict "atmosphere" with an ink brush and a water brush, I need to have them mounted.  Wet mounted that is.  

I keep harping on the topic of mounting works done on Xuan because in my neck of the woods people are still pretty naïve about this practice.  They either don't think that is so different from stretching an oil canvas over a frame, or from plain old matting a painting or picture.  As I had mentioned before, even our local Asian art and culture venue would display unmounted works squished and wrinkled in picture frames in their lobbies. I also personally know people who have sold framed, unmounted works on Xuan and are surreptitiously elated because the buyers of their works didn't know better.  Neither of these do justice to works done on Xuan, hence my insistence on writing about mounting. 

Enough soliloquy.  I should take heed of the name of a restaurant here, "Shut up and Eat".

My works are done on cicada skin Xuan and they are extremely fragile.  Great care must be paid to the handling of this paper, either when wet or dry.

The painting was laid face down on a clear sheet of plastic and wetted thoroughly.  Water relaxes the fibers in the paper.  Wrinkles invariably formed and the painting now looked like the skin of an old person.  The trick was to spray more water onto it, such that the paper actually floated on a thin film of water.  This allowed the wet Xuan to move freely on top of the plastic and most of the wrinkles and air bubbles could be stretched out.

Starch was brushed onto the back of the painting.  The stiff brush further pressed out any remaining wrinkles and air bubbles.  A piece of regular Xuan was put onto the back of the freshly starched painting.  Now that the painting was starched to the backing, the two pieces were lifted as one off the plastic and draped onto my wood board to dry.

The photo above showed the wet painting with its backing being hung out to dry.

The drying process renders the fibers taut in the paper.  The starch and the backing Xuan add strength and rigidity to the once whimsy cicada skin Xuan.  Remember the starched shirts and trousers in the old days?  I certainly do.  It's the same idea.  

I would use a double weight Xuan paper for my backing in this setting.  The double weight Xuan is thicker and more durable.  This is a 30 inch painting, so the two pieces of paper absorbed quite a bid of water (and starch).  The weight of all that water could easily tear the wet backing paper when being lifted from the plastic and transported to the wood board.  Try imagining how flimsy a wet piece of paper towel can get.  Now imagine lifting and handling one that is 40 inches long, laden with water.  

I knew I needed to be gentle and careful when doing the mounting, yet I still managed to nick a hole in my paper.  That seems to be my signature move. 

This was not the time to panic.  A very wet brush saturated with water could gently refloat the nicked area and tease the tear back to its original state, or at least greatly minimize the damage.  Never use a tweezer or you would tear the piece off and end up with a hole, guaranteed.   

The other painting, C'era una volta il West was mounted the same way.

In the photo above one could clearly see the white that was painted on the back of a dune and the tree. I used the white pigment to guarantee a solid white background for those two features, without adding distracting brushstrokes to the front of the painting.

The backing Xuan and the painting done on cicada skin Xuan were hung on my wood board to dry.  In this state of dampness, one could clearly see the effect of the white from the back.

This was how the painting looked when dried.  Notice how flat and taut the piece was.  It was like being ironed onto the wood board.

Again, the white from the back revealed nicely, without being obtrusive.  The fact that no visible "white" brushstrokes were seen bestowed a much more natural feel to the painting.  This harmony reminds me of a dark pupil next to the white of the eye.  The pupil is not a button stitched onto the sclera, but a natural looking component of our eye.  The same can be said about the negative space in the lower left corner.  That void was done on purpose, albeit without the help of white pigment on the back of the paper.  That one vacant corner gave room for the painting to "breathe".

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C'era una volta il West