I am an enthusiast of Chinese Brush Painting and I would like to share my trials and tribulations in learning the craft. I want to document the process, the inspiration and the weird ideas behind my projects and to address some of the nuances related to this dicipline. I hope to create a dialogue and stir up some interest in the art of painting with a Chinese brush on Xuan. In any case, it would be interesting to see my own evolution as time progresses. This is my journal
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
Multnomah Falls continued
After weeks of piling on more pigments on the rocks an adding "chuen" (texture), I grew more and more unhappy with my lower fall.
Unlike the upper fall, where I was able to reveal some of the spraying and pulsating energy of the water, I have painted in 2 parallel dark lines into the bottom fall. What was I thinking.
I pulled out my cardboard framing borders and was trying to see where I should cut the Xuan paper so that I could pretend that the mistake never happened. Then I thought about an old trick that I've described in my previous blogs..... using a transparency.
I fashioned a few trees using white titanium (for better contrast against the dark background) on this piece of transparency, such that I could move this about the painting and see the best placement to obscure the parallel lines.
Once I have the location finalized, I can now paint in the trees for real. This transparency trick allows me to figure out the placement and size of add-ons without having to commit to it.
Unlike the upper fall, where I was able to reveal some of the spraying and pulsating energy of the water, I have painted in 2 parallel dark lines into the bottom fall. What was I thinking.
I pulled out my cardboard framing borders and was trying to see where I should cut the Xuan paper so that I could pretend that the mistake never happened. Then I thought about an old trick that I've described in my previous blogs..... using a transparency.
I fashioned a few trees using white titanium (for better contrast against the dark background) on this piece of transparency, such that I could move this about the painting and see the best placement to obscure the parallel lines.
Once I have the location finalized, I can now paint in the trees for real. This transparency trick allows me to figure out the placement and size of add-ons without having to commit to it.
I've added 3 spectators to the bridge just to warm this painting up a little bit.
I am not totally happy with the overall feel of this painting. There isn't enough of a contrast between the front and the back. I am afraid to make the front look too dark or I would lose the details on the rocks. The other option is to darken the back, but that would regress my nice rock walls , which I thought is quite dramatic. Besides, I thought my foreground is too dark for this set-up. But wait, I have one more option. Since I am going to be mounting this piece of Xuan on canvas (as in my Xuan-Boo technique), I can play with my canvas gesso colors to see if I can remedy my front to back contrasts.
What I do like is that I have at least tried to establish a yin an yang contrast. I painted trees on alternate sides of the fall, to avoid a bilateral symmetry. I've painted the left side lighter than the right and highlighted the trees such that illumination is from above. I've tried to create contrasts within each sector of the painting.
I'll post my painting again after it is mounted and framed.
Like I said, come hell or high water, I've done it!
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Multnomah Falls
Multnomah Falls is a hot spot in the scenic Columbia River Gorge.
I have wanted to paint this image for over 3 years now. A night scene ? A snow scene? How about a perspective from the top? My apprehension is that I don't think I can portray the Falls with my present stage of craftsmanship. So I procrastinated.
Well 2011 is upon us. I am not one to make any New Year's resolutions, but here is one. I am going to paint the Falls, come hell or high water.
As in most of my work, I lay down the basic premise in medium tone ink.
I am trying for a perspective that is looking up to the top of the Fall.
I have contemplated in doing the scattered focal point perspective that is utilized in so many Chinese landscape paintings, but I must confess that I am having difficulty applying it here. So here comes hell.
After the basic skeleton is constructed, I am working on "chuen" (adding texture) and shading, to give my work a more 3 dimensional feel.
More shading is done, and also an initial layer of vermilion is deposited. This works to depict the high lighted areas of the rocks, and also blends well with the subsequent burnt sienna, ink and indigo that I'll be piling on the rocks.
The water itself is the blank space, brought to light by the dark contrasting margins.
I have wanted to paint this image for over 3 years now. A night scene ? A snow scene? How about a perspective from the top? My apprehension is that I don't think I can portray the Falls with my present stage of craftsmanship. So I procrastinated.
Well 2011 is upon us. I am not one to make any New Year's resolutions, but here is one. I am going to paint the Falls, come hell or high water.
As in most of my work, I lay down the basic premise in medium tone ink.
I am trying for a perspective that is looking up to the top of the Fall.
I have contemplated in doing the scattered focal point perspective that is utilized in so many Chinese landscape paintings, but I must confess that I am having difficulty applying it here. So here comes hell.
After the basic skeleton is constructed, I am working on "chuen" (adding texture) and shading, to give my work a more 3 dimensional feel.
More shading is done, and also an initial layer of vermilion is deposited. This works to depict the high lighted areas of the rocks, and also blends well with the subsequent burnt sienna, ink and indigo that I'll be piling on the rocks.
The water itself is the blank space, brought to light by the dark contrasting margins.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Tradition, Tradition !
No I am not Tevye. Isn't Fiddler On The Roof a wonderful piece of work!
In teaching my students about the basics of brush strokes, and Chinese Brush Painting in general, I cannot circumvent some fundamental painting techniques. To make my case more poignant, I have to fall back on a favorite subject matter, the orchid. Orchid is touted as one of the 4 "PALS" in Chinese painting, possessing the virtue of lady like elegance and arrogance.
There is a very hierarchical way of depicting orchid. The insert is a page from my instructional material.
The lower half of the diagram dissects the composition of the orchid leaves. It has to have a "master" leaf and a "slave" leaf and these two cast a general orientation of the plant. The "master" and the "slave" leaves must form a "phoenix eye" at the base. A third leaf ( No. 3 in the diagram) must break out from this "phoenix eye" to dictate the height of the plant. In other words, if these 3 elements are not arranged in this prescribed fashion, then the painting is a failed one, or the artist has not done his/her homework. In some ways, such paintings have absolutely nothing that remotely resemble a studio "still life" or an on location plein-air rendition of the plant, but more to do with the discipline of floral design and arrangement. After all, the painting of orchid can be construed as an euphemistic expression of virtues and beauties.
Such conformity to "Tradition" in a way stifles the advancement of Chinese Brush Painting. At the very least, it lends to create the impression that Chinese brush paintings seem to copy each other. This is especially confusing with the influx of mass produced pieces of "art". Yet if the artist was to be divorced from this tradition, then he/she could be inviting a brow beating and deemed being ignorant of the basics.
My intention here is to neither advocate, nor to destroy the adherence to "rules". I am just trying to stir up discussion as to what is deemed "correct" or "incorrect", especially for the new enthusiasts in Chinese Brush Painting. I encourage you to find your own orchids in the library, at your local galleries and research on the net and see for yourself. Whether chop suey is Chinese food or not depends on your own sophistication.
In teaching my students about the basics of brush strokes, and Chinese Brush Painting in general, I cannot circumvent some fundamental painting techniques. To make my case more poignant, I have to fall back on a favorite subject matter, the orchid. Orchid is touted as one of the 4 "PALS" in Chinese painting, possessing the virtue of lady like elegance and arrogance.
There is a very hierarchical way of depicting orchid. The insert is a page from my instructional material.
The lower half of the diagram dissects the composition of the orchid leaves. It has to have a "master" leaf and a "slave" leaf and these two cast a general orientation of the plant. The "master" and the "slave" leaves must form a "phoenix eye" at the base. A third leaf ( No. 3 in the diagram) must break out from this "phoenix eye" to dictate the height of the plant. In other words, if these 3 elements are not arranged in this prescribed fashion, then the painting is a failed one, or the artist has not done his/her homework. In some ways, such paintings have absolutely nothing that remotely resemble a studio "still life" or an on location plein-air rendition of the plant, but more to do with the discipline of floral design and arrangement. After all, the painting of orchid can be construed as an euphemistic expression of virtues and beauties.
Such conformity to "Tradition" in a way stifles the advancement of Chinese Brush Painting. At the very least, it lends to create the impression that Chinese brush paintings seem to copy each other. This is especially confusing with the influx of mass produced pieces of "art". Yet if the artist was to be divorced from this tradition, then he/she could be inviting a brow beating and deemed being ignorant of the basics.
My intention here is to neither advocate, nor to destroy the adherence to "rules". I am just trying to stir up discussion as to what is deemed "correct" or "incorrect", especially for the new enthusiasts in Chinese Brush Painting. I encourage you to find your own orchids in the library, at your local galleries and research on the net and see for yourself. Whether chop suey is Chinese food or not depends on your own sophistication.
Labels:
chop suey,
master,
phoenix eye,
slave,
sophistication,
virtue
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Xanadu Part 2
I've decided to revise my Xanadu painting a little bit. I wanted to see if I could make it less "rigid" and perhaps more impressionistic. I also wanted a wide angle presentation to facilitate a feeling of not being on a leash.
The above picture is my attempt at that goal. The picture was taken when the Xuan paper was still wet, thus the colors were more saturated.
The next photo shows the same painting with calligraphy on it. The writing is better than the original Xanadu, but in touching up a tree in the foreground, I made the lines too busy. Wish I had controlled my OCD
a little better.
O Well.
As the image of hills and streams still churns in my cranium, I very quickly grabbed my brush and used whatever happened to be in my color dish and plotted out a mountainous mass with flowing lines as the liquid companion. I basked in the initial delight of painting something altogether different, but quickly succumbed to the O Too Bland syndrome. Found my split hair brush and started to plant my trees here and there, which ruined the "unleashed" feel of the painting. This need for decoration caused me to write with more distinct edges in my calligraphy. The resulting fonts perhaps seemed more curvaceous, but appeared to be anorexic.
Life is a process of reincarnating events. An initial attempt in painting a tranquil misty coastal forest led me to a chance encounter of a poem that mentioned Xanadu, and now this poem steered me into extracting another painting. My lament is that quite often I grasp the light bulb alright but I could not make it shine. I have maintained that a good painting is the amalgamation of a bunch of good accidents. Yes I am a disciple of fate, and I shall patiently wait my turn.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Xanadu
20 mph sustained easterly wind. 41 mph gusts. I kept focusing on the pine tree that is listing at a 60 degree angle in my backyard. The swaying image of the scaly red branches is morphed by the streaks of raindrops running across my window pane ........ as if watching an old VCR tape with noise on the picture.
I decided to paint something a little more tranquil!
Needless to say, trees became my subject. A forest of tall firs, punctuated by an occasional alder, bathed in a coastal shroud of fog. An initial groundwork of laying down the tracks of trees proved to be a little too harsh for my imagination. The body of trees seemed too concrete. I had loaded my brush with ink in the belly, green around the torso and bits of yellow on the shoulder for that highlight. As my brush grinds across the paper, the stops became too labored and the result was not "Xieyi" enough. Perhaps my stops were too uniform, too calculated. Something needs to be done about it.
I started to layer more colors and hues onto the green ribbons, hoping to mitigate some of the choppiness.
I have also started to paint in the main harness of some of these firs. I wanted the shape of my brush strokes to suggest a general morphology, and the specific reveal of branches to affirm the recognition. I've also decided the painting is too cold, so I warmed up the fog a bit.
The next task is trying to decide what to do with all that empty space. In my Serene Lake painting I had left the space on purpose...... in fact the whole painting was about empty space and about day dreaming but this piece somehow is not conducive to that task. I almost went for the old formula of painting a faint peak in the distance. For sure K2 would look good. Here I am appealing to dare to deviate from the prescribed compositions, from the old decoration scheme.
I came upon this poem in my calligraphy class material, and it was written out in the cursive style. Both the font and the meaning of the poem mesh well with the painting, so I decided to use it. A rough translation of the poem is
The existence of angels is a myth
Xanadu ( or Shangri-la, euphemism ) is a farce
But do capture the winding waters and mountains
And display their beauties for all to admire
Too bad my calligraphy here sucked, and my Xieyi painting seemed too contrived, but look at this as a down payment for something better.
I decided to paint something a little more tranquil!
Needless to say, trees became my subject. A forest of tall firs, punctuated by an occasional alder, bathed in a coastal shroud of fog. An initial groundwork of laying down the tracks of trees proved to be a little too harsh for my imagination. The body of trees seemed too concrete. I had loaded my brush with ink in the belly, green around the torso and bits of yellow on the shoulder for that highlight. As my brush grinds across the paper, the stops became too labored and the result was not "Xieyi" enough. Perhaps my stops were too uniform, too calculated. Something needs to be done about it.
I started to layer more colors and hues onto the green ribbons, hoping to mitigate some of the choppiness.
I have also started to paint in the main harness of some of these firs. I wanted the shape of my brush strokes to suggest a general morphology, and the specific reveal of branches to affirm the recognition. I've also decided the painting is too cold, so I warmed up the fog a bit.
The next task is trying to decide what to do with all that empty space. In my Serene Lake painting I had left the space on purpose...... in fact the whole painting was about empty space and about day dreaming but this piece somehow is not conducive to that task. I almost went for the old formula of painting a faint peak in the distance. For sure K2 would look good. Here I am appealing to dare to deviate from the prescribed compositions, from the old decoration scheme.
I came upon this poem in my calligraphy class material, and it was written out in the cursive style. Both the font and the meaning of the poem mesh well with the painting, so I decided to use it. A rough translation of the poem is
The existence of angels is a myth
Xanadu ( or Shangri-la, euphemism ) is a farce
But do capture the winding waters and mountains
And display their beauties for all to admire
Too bad my calligraphy here sucked, and my Xieyi painting seemed too contrived, but look at this as a down payment for something better.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Southpaw
Have you played Ping-Pong with a lefty and be victimized by the weird english? Do you think pitching to a left handed hitter is the same as a right-hander? Why does sinister mean left? These are interesting questions to mull over.... until you are faced with it.
My former painting teacher once confided in me his frustration with a student. He could not get the student to use the correct brush strokes, which is the foundation of Chinese brush painting. It took me almost half an hour to coax my teacher to tell me that this student is left handed. So what, you ask.
To those of you who have toyed with the Speedball nibs for calligraphy, you would understand that the natural right-handed slant of the pen, plus the nib's plane, makes the fine and thick lines of the alphabet . A left-hander would be unable to scribe these letters without turning the page 90 degrees to align the slant of the strokes with the slant of the nib.
As I ruminated on the implication of that awkward scenario, my first impression was that the brush should be exempt from that. The brush possesses no rigid plane, thus it is free to script whatever it wants to. There is nothing farther from the truth than this assumption. If we take a look at my last blog; at the picture where it showed a transition from center tip to side tip as one writes a "7", this task is done with ease for a right handed person. The brush would indeed assume a natural right slant, and we would move in the east-west axis to start out with. For a left-hander, the brush assumes the opposite slant, and would be rubbing against the direction of travel, i.e. reverse tip. The last blog "Ridgetop Explained" also suggested that the vertical "side tip" contour line describes the thickness of the object and thus for a right handed person, this is accomplished with flowing ease. For a southpaw however, this is done against the orientation of the brush hair. For a left-hander to do what we do, this person must turn the wrist completely inwards to cradle the brush, in order to achieve the same brush alignment and slant as the right handed person.
To better illustrate this point, I used the painting of a shrimp as an example. The body of this arthropod is done with side-tip strokes; as if drawing a fat arc, with the longer radius to the right.
When I asked a left handed person to do this, the arc is painted with the opposite curvature, i.e. the longer radius now on the left side, despite the same body orientation.
I must say that I was ecstatic when I observed this. It validated my theory, and vindicated the left handed persons.. ....... the teacher was frustrated because he did not understand the mechanics of the hand .. ...the student was frustrated because she was either blamed for not following directions, or was told to turn the paper upside down just to comply.
What is the remedy?? The southpaw should still learn the basics and be able to execute the different brushstrokes, but also understand that most of the paintings that we take in are done by right handed people, with a right handed bias in their strokes. My solution of teaching the southpaw is that as we learn from emulating the works of ancient masters, we could flip their works along the vertical axis. Thus our right becomes their left !! I am encouraging left handed people to digitally flip the masterpieces, and then learn to paint with the same strokes. In essence, a center tip stroke that started from the left to right, turning downward and transitioning to a side-tip would now be a center tip stroke from right to left (aligning perfectly with the natural left handed slant), and transitioning to a side-tip down stroke.
Confusing? Only for a right-hander. I think the southpaws know what I am talking about.
My former painting teacher once confided in me his frustration with a student. He could not get the student to use the correct brush strokes, which is the foundation of Chinese brush painting. It took me almost half an hour to coax my teacher to tell me that this student is left handed. So what, you ask.
To those of you who have toyed with the Speedball nibs for calligraphy, you would understand that the natural right-handed slant of the pen, plus the nib's plane, makes the fine and thick lines of the alphabet . A left-hander would be unable to scribe these letters without turning the page 90 degrees to align the slant of the strokes with the slant of the nib.
As I ruminated on the implication of that awkward scenario, my first impression was that the brush should be exempt from that. The brush possesses no rigid plane, thus it is free to script whatever it wants to. There is nothing farther from the truth than this assumption. If we take a look at my last blog; at the picture where it showed a transition from center tip to side tip as one writes a "7", this task is done with ease for a right handed person. The brush would indeed assume a natural right slant, and we would move in the east-west axis to start out with. For a left-hander, the brush assumes the opposite slant, and would be rubbing against the direction of travel, i.e. reverse tip. The last blog "Ridgetop Explained" also suggested that the vertical "side tip" contour line describes the thickness of the object and thus for a right handed person, this is accomplished with flowing ease. For a southpaw however, this is done against the orientation of the brush hair. For a left-hander to do what we do, this person must turn the wrist completely inwards to cradle the brush, in order to achieve the same brush alignment and slant as the right handed person.
To better illustrate this point, I used the painting of a shrimp as an example. The body of this arthropod is done with side-tip strokes; as if drawing a fat arc, with the longer radius to the right.
When I asked a left handed person to do this, the arc is painted with the opposite curvature, i.e. the longer radius now on the left side, despite the same body orientation.
I must say that I was ecstatic when I observed this. It validated my theory, and vindicated the left handed persons.. ....... the teacher was frustrated because he did not understand the mechanics of the hand .. ...the student was frustrated because she was either blamed for not following directions, or was told to turn the paper upside down just to comply.
What is the remedy?? The southpaw should still learn the basics and be able to execute the different brushstrokes, but also understand that most of the paintings that we take in are done by right handed people, with a right handed bias in their strokes. My solution of teaching the southpaw is that as we learn from emulating the works of ancient masters, we could flip their works along the vertical axis. Thus our right becomes their left !! I am encouraging left handed people to digitally flip the masterpieces, and then learn to paint with the same strokes. In essence, a center tip stroke that started from the left to right, turning downward and transitioning to a side-tip would now be a center tip stroke from right to left (aligning perfectly with the natural left handed slant), and transitioning to a side-tip down stroke.
Confusing? Only for a right-hander. I think the southpaws know what I am talking about.
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