I also emphasized the shadows on the left and the under side of the roots. The effect was as if one was shining a spotlight on them. The whole set up reminded me of those portrait head shots from the studios. To maximize the impact, I would need to hang the painting on the right side of the display area, surreptitiously forcing the viewers to look at it from the left, hopefully amplifying the perspective.
I chose to employ the traditional cinnabar color seal, arguing that this dark piece could use a hint of color, to jazz it up a bit, in a subdued way. I chose the negative seal, thus the script would be the color of the painting. Since the painting was so dark, the script was not immediately legible, inviting the viewers to investigate further to decipher what was being carved. I think this adds to the overall mysterious feel of the painting.
I wanted to continue my experimentation on my Sulio Xuan Ban format, but I wanted to try the wet mount using starch. I began with the back side first, since any mishaps were not going to be catastrophic. I used a blank piece of double Xuan, brushed on a moderately thick layer of starch on the plastic and laid the Xuan on it.
So far so good. I grew a little bolder.
When it came to the top side, the painting side, I used the backing that was already glued on as a placement guide. The semi-sized Xuan was a lot flimsier than the double Xuan and it was difficult to post it correctly. The leading margin softened and wilted immediately when placed on the wet starchy plastic surface and any subsequent yanking or adjusting only made matters worse. I was also running the risk of tearing the Xuan like a piece of wet paper towel.
My heart was in my throat; I was about to encounter my Waterloo.
My dilemma was that if I had attempted to lift the whole piece, the paper might not support the wet weight and would tear for sure. If I left it there, then there were simply too many folds.
I had to find a way to salvage this, and fast. I remembered watching on YouTube how auto body shop technicians would apply protective film to the car body. I remembered them using shampoo to float the piece so the film can be manipulated easier while on the car. Obviously I would not use shampoo, but I grabbed my spray bottle and thoroughly wet the entire painting.
That seemed to work. I could now press against the plastic and apply firm but steady pressure on the Xuan to make it slide on the plastic, gradually eliminating the unwanted folds. I started from one edge and patiently but gingerly moved to the other areas, all the while keeping wetting down the paper.
After what seemed like an eternity, most of the major folds were gone, and the paper was squared up.
Time to put layers of newspaper on top of the wet mess to soak up the excess water, and to protect the painting from the harsh bristles of the palm brush that was used to tamp down the paper onto the plastic.
This insert showed the effect of tamping. The left side, which was tamped, was drier and much smoother, devoid of bubbles.
The entire piece was treated this way, and allowed to dry.
A sigh of relief ! I've averted a cataclysmic blunder.
To my disappointment, I found out that the Xuan did not stick to the plastic as I had anticipated. I could peel off the entire piece as if it was a static cling.
Should I reapply with the thicker starch now?
I decided against it. I didn't want to repeat the same mishap. I couldn't afford to destroy this painting now, not when it was committed to an impending exhibition. My initial eagerness to wet mount this piece was fueled by the success I had with the back piece that was used as a white board. So I dry mounted it.
I shall wait for another opportunity to try my wet mounting on plastic. I'm in no hurry.
