"Building" a wall, continued

Other than these obvious corrections to my first attempt at this painting, I've also done something that was not obvious to the casual observer.

In the version that did not have the ground, I painted in the window lines on all 4 sides.  In fact I also brushed in shading along the left edges of the window to help delineate the opening.  I have in fact debated this with my colleagues and it was agreed that the line was necessary.

But I did not buy into it.  Not wholeheartedly anyways.

I decided to define the left edge of the window by the darkened pattern of the window.  I wanted no harsh confines for that part of the window.  This practice of defining a void space ( in this case, the window's edge ) with values and not lines is similar to how I would paint a stream or waterfall.   I also felt that the eloping wisteria vines was further enhanced by the absence of a line.

I tackled the problem of some of the branches being too thick by painting a shadow on the back of the Xuan.  This added volume without adding mass, and seemed to work.

I had enough quest in me to try another copy.  I painted the vines with more straight lines and less curves.  Somehow I did not like the vines as much as my previous attempts.  I think my anxiety of breaking up the curves into short straight segments go the better of me.  The lines also looked a little anemic to me and lacked that oomph.  Perhaps I should not have done this one?  Was I getting bored?

 I was not going to use color for this series of paintings.  I was going for that black and white graphic look with elegant lines and interesting contrasts, remember?  In fact, light values and the look of graphic design sounds more western than Chinese, but I think the vocabulary is the same, just the language is different.  Well I need to be flexible and see the possibilities.

Out came the color tubes, Titanium White and Green Label Three.  I scratched in patches of leaves. 

For now I'll pin my salvage on the wall and ponder, like I always do. The wall that I am building is now done and we shall see if it will stand up to the test of time.

I am still ruminating on why does the vine want to get out?   Surely road side auto exhaust couldn't be better than the lush flowers and ponds inside?   How does one argue with nature.

"Building" a wall

The traditional formal gardens in old China is surrounded by a wall, which shields the various pavilions and bridges, ponds and rock structures from the outside.  The structures inside the confines of the wall are often arranged to re-create a "borrowed scenery", to fulfil the imagination and the fantasy of the property owner. 

It is this wall that I find most interesting.  Whereas its main function is to establish a physical barrier, it is often punctuated by framed windows such that people on the outside can take a peep into the garden, a bit of a tease if you will.  I look at it as a fine lady trying to hide her assets, yet strategically revealing just enough to perk one's curiosity.  I am convinced that a half clad person is definitely more intriguing than one in a full birthday suit.

We have such a garden in town.  Lucky me! 

Aside from the intrinsic beauty such wall and window radiates, I like the arrangement for other reasons too.  The stark white wall is a perfect contrast to the dark tiled tops.  The lattice, or pattern on the window casts interesting shadows and creates movement.  I like the simplicity of it.  Contrast, simplicity, elegant lines; what else can I wish for.

I hastily painted a rough draft, to see if I can parlez all these into a painting. The painting would have the dark tiles on top.  The whole upper portion of the painting would be dark and heavy.  This is the "solid", the "yang" part.  The lower and left part of the painting would be the "vague" or "ying" areas; complementing and contrasting.  There should be a strong emphasis of lines, along with the black and white patches, this could pass off as a graphic design also.

I am convinced that this could work.  Armed with that conviction, I sat down to do one in earnest.

 

Two things became apparent rather quickly.  Firstly the "ying" was too much.  There was too much void on the lower half, to the extent that window and wall top seemed to be suspending in air. The painting did not feel grounded at all.  Secondly, the vines were too jumbled up.  They looked like entangled yarns, lacking direction and movement.

The next attempt tried to fix the aforementioned shortcomings.

 

 I put in the lower edges/ground of the wall.  I appointed the main branches of the vine.  One could clearly identify  a horizontal 8 now as the main branches, albeit they were a little too thick.  I've made the black tiles at the top to be in rows of a slight angle and much darker  to break up the monotonous  look.  In fact I made no attempts at all to cover up or fill in my brushstrokes.  I want the ink to breathe.  I also painted in the continuation of the vines behind  the window.  I wanted the audience to sense ( perhaps subconsciously ) the satire that whilst the wall was trying to rein things in, the vines were actually trying to get out..............   This attribute is by itself a notion for the complement/contrast aspects of Chinese painting.  Perhaps more importantly though, especially on an emotional level, this is the half cladding that started my fascination.

to be continued

An old friend re-visited

My formal training in Chinese brush was in landscapes, but I found myself doing a lot of geese, insects etc.  I just paint whatever captured my imagination and more often than not, these critters caught my fancy.

I had done a few  insect paintings in the style of Master Qi Baishi over the years.  The two that I am most fond of was one with a cicada and one with a grasshopper.  I decided to re-visit the grasshopper again.  I want to see if I can show an improvement in my brush.

I found a piece of  triple Xuan measuring 15 x 18.  I wanted a thick paper because I wanted to do it a la Xuan-boo style;  a thicker paper would stand up to the abuse I put it through.   I will be preparing my own canvas and making my own frames etc.    I use the commercial painters drop cloth as my canvas.  I enjoy the more pronounced texture from the drop cloth, over the anemic feel of the canvas frames sold in stores.

The problem ( and the advantage ) of using commercial drop cloth is that the fibers are not always uniformly wound.  Sometimes a few loops go astray and swell inordinately with the application of Gesso.  This apparent irregularity actually adds to the uneven feel and the character of the canvas.

I started out by laying down the stalk with a  coarse brush.  The stiff bristle makes a bone brushstroke that much easier, and the white streaks left at the end of the stroke is very enticing and enigmatic.

I did the upper leaves a different hue from the bottom ones to add dimension and interest.

Using very faint indigo and ink and pencil, I blocked in the shape of the grasshopper.

The insect is coming into life with a fine brush.  This part of the painting is more Gongbi than Xieyi.

A close-up reveals  the interaction between the fabric and the brushstroke.  At this point, no one would have believed that the painting was done on Xuan.  The paper assumed a feel of the fabric underneath.


Made a frame and colored it with dark mahogany.  That dark sultry red tint was a perfect match for this painting.

I do think this work is better than the previous attempt!  My brushstrokes are more convincing now.

Coffee, Ink and semi-sized Xuan

I was just finishing my 2 days old coffee.  I admit to leaving unfinished coffee on my desk and drinking it days later.  No belly aches, no vomiting, no problems.  McDonald's had raised their coffee price from 30 cents to a dollar and 30 cents.  I was baited, and got reeled in.  I blame my parents for not making me smarter.  So, I am not about to waste any coffee.

I don't often work with semi-sized paper, but the few times that I had tried it, I fell in love with it.
For me, the paper is more forgiving.  It won't bite me back when I misjudged my water load in my brush.  Yes the brushstroke loses some acuity and the stroke floats a little bit before sinking in, sort of like a delayed reaction,  but I feel emboldened to be a little reckless. 

I found a nice piece of classical work to study.  The artist's name escaped me, but I really liked his way of addressing each stroke and defining each line.  I thought the semi-sized paper would be particularly useful for this study.  I could take a little more time in putting together this jigsaw puzzle and not worry about if my brush was too wet or too dry.

The semi-sized paper was able to faithfully record different ink tones

Each brushstroke, no matter how faint or delicate, showed a presence.  The audience is encouraged to read the painting, as more clues are revealed upon each cast of the eye.

The painting was finally finished with my days old coffee as color, filling in shades and  shapes.  Literally an exercise of good taste.

Good-bye

Good-bye Mrs. C
You're finally freed
free to soar the beach that you loved

I miss you

Pavilion

Having to do a themed exhibition right after a trip overseas while I was in the stupor of jet lag is definitely not fun.  It's amazing what adrenalin does to a person.

After the anti-climax, I needed to get back into the swing of things again.

The brush felt so foreign.  I have not touched it for a while.  Could the heart grow fonder after the short absence?  I shall find out.

I decided to reacquaint myself to the brush by doing some doodling.  Well, sort of. 

I did some grass style calligraphy; just to get the blood flowing.

I talked about appreciating the brush stroke during my spiel at the exhibition, so I decided to pay extra attention to  my brushstrokes.  I want to work on my center tips.

I deem the lines of a Chinese pavilion interesting.  I want to portray the high sweeping ridge line.
I want to capture the emotions emanating from the dancing soffits.

I started out with a brush saturated with ink to write the arching ridge line.  I wanted a moist, wholesome look to the lines to reflect on the massiveness and the energy that these lines give off.
This is going to be a pavilion in a lake, a la classical gardens for the rich bureaucrats in the old days.

 

Using light ink, the surrounding covered breezeway was put in place.

Writing in the tree, paying attention to leave a little space between the branches and the pavilion, to establish  perspective.

Using Green Label 3, I dressed the branches and the waters edge.

I know it's a cliche but I just couldn't resist painting the reflections on the water.  I tried to be scant in the details.  I restrained myself from using more color to the painting.  I wanted to keep the airy, impressionistic feel of the paining.  I surmise that my cinnabar colored chop will add that speck of punctuation that I was look for.  It had to be strategically placed.

My dots seemed too evenly spaced.  They were restrained and not interesting.  This is something I need to work on.

Wassup

Just wanted to drop by and say Hi !

Relationship, no, not that kind

Since I had quite a few pages left on my drawing pad, I thought I would fill some pages with quick charcoal sketches.

Armed with this sample drawing, I went on to painting with brush on bamboo paper.  I really like the texture and warm color of this paper.  There is something very organic about this piece of fancy butt wiper.

I don't know why I truncated the bodies into halves.  Perhaps I thought it was a more interesting composition?  Perhaps I thought the relationship of the two geese were intriguing.  Were they chatting, greeting or quarreling?  Who knows!  In my mind their necks seemed to be the story teller.  Their  body language  was  translated into neck language.  This is a plausible explanation for painting just half a goose.

I wanted to explore this relationship by humanizing the geese.  What if one goose tries to playfully sneak up on a dozing partner?

I thought the leaves were too big for this composition.  I don't know if this was a painting about leaves or geese.  I can't sense any goose/goose or geese/leaves relationship in this work.

What if I moved the geese closer to each other.  That will form a relationship for sure.

Well the leaves still stole the thunder.  They were too overpowering. One goose seemed  to be giving the other one a cold shoulder. There was too much size disparity between the 2 geese.  Was the sleeping one much farther back to have appeared  smaller?   If so, I need to perhaps paint it in a much lighter tone?  Or separate the two with blades of grass?  I really have not established the relationship of the 3 items in this painting at all.  Something to remember in my future trials.

Am I sick of it?

We had an unusual winter.  We saw some snow, enough to cause traffic problem and closed schools.

During one of those off days, my friend snapped a picture of the highway.   Just a random picture.  Something to do with the index finger on the iphone.

That picture was about ready to be deleted.  It was not intereting.  But what do you do with your day when you try to stay off the road as much as possible?  Play with all your pictures, my friend said.  Cropping is easy to do.

"I want to paint that."  That was my impulse after I saw the cropped photo.

My first attempt at the photo was too "faithful".  I think I was too busy recounting all the details, down to the little bush in the foreground.  The bush looked out of place in the painting.   For one it was too small to really establish a perspective.  Besides, it really took away the  abstract patch type ambiance.  I also thought the horizon lines very too strong. They were too rigid and confining.  This painting attempt had all the undesirable misgivings of painting from a picture.

On my second attempt I thought I would just recall from the photo.  I think I was playing a little more with the elliptical shapes of the landscape, rather than the landscape itself.  The lines definitely livened up and were not as forbidding.  Gone was the redundant bush in the foreground.

 

I wanted to play with the shape partitions more,  i.e. the sky, the bend in the highway on the left, and the filed in the foreground.  In my mind, this had turned into an exercise of painting patterns and lines.  I was reluctant to do this a third time.  I seemed to me that I had spent my soul in the first attempt already, and anything subsequent to that is boring and repetitious.  Perhaps I just want to prove to myself that I have discipline and I can work at something until I am satisfied.

I looked at my third attempt and I saw haste and desertion.  What have I done!  I was a mad man.  I really couldn't make anything out of it.  The painting looked disjointed.   I should have stopped at two.  Perhaps I was tired of toying with the same time over and over again.

Could I just be sick of it?

Taking a break

I was really getting tired of my brush calligraphy.

Every stroke was a chore.  I had no flow.  I was flustered. 

I was told that this is a sign of energy not flowing and it would be pointless to continue.  So I looked for a diversion.  I painted instead.

The painting was done on sized Xuan, the same piece that I aborted my brush calligraphy on.   This paper is better able to retain the original brilliance of the pigments used.   I used it for calligraphy practice because it was scrap and was easily within reach!

The painting was done without much thought process nor planning.   I did it just so I didn't have to practice my calligraphy.  It just flowed.  I am now looking for ways to crop this so I can present it in a proper format.

or

 

 

 

 

 

I have lots of time to muse over this.

Crash and Burn, attempting woodblock

I took the prints from my first attempt at wood cut to my teacher, who happened to be an expert in this field.  My teacher excelled in woodcut prints while studying art in France.

I wasn't ready for the appraisal I received.  Nothing about the print was right.  Not one iota!

I was trying to state my case.  The wood was too hard.  I used a crooked pine board.   I used ink instead of the proper print paint.  I didn't have a roller.  The paper I used was not card stock.  I really liked the feel of it.  I tried to demonstrate a spatial relationship of the 2 trees.  There was variation of in ink tone.

My teacher demanded to see my carving knives, which I did not bring.  I asked instead for my teacher to base the critique purely on the merits of the image alone.  Why must one involve my carving knives.  Why couldn't we talk about whether the print surface was properly primed or not.  So the discussion evolved to discussion of whether one could do proper Chinese brush calligraphy with a brush for house painting, or must oil painting be done on canvas, etc.

After much discussion, the take away I got was that there are distinct traits of merit for every discipline.  For example we kept talking about bi-fa in brush strokes, be it brush calligraphy or brush painting.  Correspondingly, wood cuts need to demonstrate the way of the knife, for lack of better terms.  It was this lack of knifesmanship that doomed my print.  I failed to demonstrate any control of the edge.  What I deemed as pleasing, i.e. the wood grain coming through, the mottled look etc. should not be and could not be a substitute for proper cutting technique.

This reminded me of my own blog  Isn't Being Cute Enough?  I was too preoccupied with the First Time fever to see it.  I fell into the same pit.  Thus my lack of skill in wood cut was not concealed by
any sorts of pretence;  at least not in the eye of someone who knows.  The advice for me:  don't rely on gimmicks to save me.  Learn to do it properly.

This is what I like about my teacher.  The ability to conduct open, thought provoking discussions.

Attempting Woodblock

I had grown increasingly dissatisfied with my brushstrokes, and my calligraphy.  I sensed that I was placing too much emphasis on the shape rather than the energy.  I was tracing instead of writing.

I thought doing some woodcut might be a good diversion.
"
I had never done woodcut before, but this "First Time" trepidation was exactly the motivation I needed.  I had a piece of scrap pine board left over from frame making.  Perfect material for trial and error.

I thought I would do trees.  Simple lines, and a good challenge to be able to show spatial relationship of the limbs.

I started out by painting 2 trees onto this block of wood.   I wasn't concerned about mirror image or upside down or else.  Que sera sera!   My goal was to have two trees with a few overlapping branches.  My challenge would be to show which limb is in the back.

Initial draft and scribing

 

 

 

Close-up on woodcut

 

 

Since this was my maiden voyage into woodcuts, I was anxious to see if this would fly at all.  I dabbed ink onto the one tree that I had finished so far and laid a piece of Xuan on it.  I used a piece of dry dish washing scrub pad for the rub out since I did not have a roller at my disposal.  The result was better than expected.  I was particularly happy with the wood grain from the pine board showing up.  The beading was probably due to the virgin wood surface, as the ink had not yet soaked into the wood fiber.  I was able to showcase the different ink tones.

Finished board with ink

 

Print made from the woodcut.

 I was not able to achieve the same drama with different ink tones.  The wood fibers were wet now and they seemed to have diffused the ink for me.

I did not like the hanging branch on the right.  It was ostentatiously annoying.  So I lopped it off.   The resulting image is more coherent .  Amazing how a little alteration goes a long ways.

I brushed  concentrated ink onto the left tree and diluted ink onto the other, creating a contrast between the two stands.  I printed on the bamboo paper for calligraphy.  This paper is more absorbent than the regular Xuan.  Instead of using the scrub pad I used my fingers to press down on the paper.  I was able to modulate the pressure at various spots, resulting in a print with varied intensity and emphasis.

I used broken lines to define the spatial arrangement of the limbs.  Branches that are in the back received the broken line treatment (areas circled in red).  This is a technique frequently used in Chinese brush painting.  For further discussion of this topic please refer to my blog on More Than Just Broken Lines dated 3/29/12.

I am quite tickled with my first attempt at woodblock.  I would definitely pursue this further in the days to come.

A Quorum of Geese

It is time to get back to my geese project.

While I was preoccupied with painting my horse, the thought of how to create a geese painting was still churning away in the background.  Unfortunately I am no closer to the goal than a couple of months ago.  I can't keep writing off my hesitance as being pensive, so I decided to face my demon....  out comes the paper and brush.

My theory is that despite the absence of a concrete idea as to how the painting might end up, perhaps I have a subconscious impression of my painting to be.  So I'll be a good listener and hear myself out.

I have chosen a paper that I normally do calligraphy on.  It is more absorbent than the regular Xuan and the brush strokes tend not to bleed.  I was also drawn by its native yellow gold color;  perhaps I could utilize that background color.  This piece of paper is 6 feet wide, I decided to use the whole thing.  I was gearing up for failure already.  My rationale for using the entire 6 ft was that if I screwed up I could start all over without missing a beat. This way I could just paint continuously until there was  no empty space left and I could always crop to size only the desirable sections.  Smart decision !


Armed with such a game plan, I started to lay down a bunch of geese:

Then I decided to take advantage of the paper's yellow color and made the scene as if bathed in the glow.  I used gamboge and cinnabar and mixed in some titanium white for the added blocking effect.  I now wanted the geese to look a little hazy.  I also painted in some smaller, blurry geese to the right, to achieve  a little bit of depth perspective.

I blocked in some landscape for depth perspective.  The darker emphasis is on the left side of the painting,  to contrast with the right.

Tidied up the background.  Showed some highlight on a few select geese,  and called that a wrap, for now.  I might not like some of the individual birds, but I have grown fond of the overall mood of the painting.  I'll hang it up and stare at it for a few weeks and see what else comes to mind. 

I decided to add in the white highlight on the butt of the geese.  I perceived that was also a trade mark, just as the banding on the head.  I wonder if I over did it? 

Oh, did I mention this is a six footer? I wonder how I am going to mount it.  If I use my Xuan-boo method, the warm tone would be restored once I applied the gel;  and I do like that warm fuzzy feeling!

We have a problem

I have been casting that occasional glance at my horse paintings, especially the joie de vivre  piece.
These seemingly casual encounters actually help to form the basis of a non-analytical analysis.  What an oxymoron!  What I meant is that I started to feel instinctively something is good or bad, and that motivates me to pry into the causes for my concerns.

I felt that something is amiss. 

Well let me see what is good first.

I liked the effect of the white margins left by the alum solution.  As I said before, my inclination to use alum is probably due to my inadequacy in my brush strokes, my Gi Bun Gong, and my lack of control of the proper amount of water.  A good painting is a successful interplay of ink, water, paper and brush.  I have used different types of Xuan paper.  Aside from different absorbency and tendency to bleed, some will retain a more distinctive margin in between brush strokes.  Since I am not a connoisseur of Xuan or ink, I only had the pleasure of chance encounters with said products.  I do not know enough to seek out a particular type or brand to acquire.

Anyways I was able to portray the apparent feel of tendons and muscles by giving them definition with white margins in the following example:

The white margins left by alum also helped to add layer and depth in the hairs of the mane and tail:

And of course I love the body language of the horse, enough to name it  joie de vivre.  What gives this painting a sour taste is the neck area of the horse.



I suppose the painting of animals do require a certain understanding of anatomy.  In this particular case the strong neck muscles needed to control that long cervical spine is totally missing in the representation.   What I have depicted is almost like kids playing with sand on the beach, trying to build a sand horse.  Bucketfuls of sand is piled on top of the chest to depict the neck, without regards to how the neck should be attached for articulation.  What I have erected was a column that I called a neck and placed it on top of the body, without accounting for how this column should be rested on the shoulders.  Hence begging the question, should anatomical proportions and placements be exact when doing Chinese brush painting?  According to 6 doctrines prescribed by Xie He (謝赫 ）likeliness only assumed the number 3 position of relative importance.  Can I write off  this miscalculation by saying brush strokes trump proper anatomy?  I don't know.  I wish I know!

From the painting, we can see the white margin left by the original brush stroke of the neck.

In subsequent shading and augmenting the lines, I had changed the contour of the neck column.

This is the result after digitally erasing the extraneous brush strokes outside of the white margin to shape the neck better.  Does this alteration render a better fit for the neck to the shoulders?

 

 

Did this simple change breathed new life into the painting?