Xuan-Boo Behind The Scene

I added another painting to my arsenal for the upcoming school bazaar. 

This is a pretty generic Chinese brush painting of the Xieyi, Birds genre.  A colorfully perched bird on lotus stalk, with a lotus bud as background, and a hint of pond grass to occupy the corner.  A rather non interesting painting, but one that is easy to digest and possesses all the proper "Asian" flavor and tend to be popular with the average visitor.

I decided to mount this painting a la Xuan-Boo style, for ease of display and handling.

It has been 18 months since I announced Xuan-Boo on my blog.  This is a process of mounting the painting of Xuan on canvas.  The finished product can be displayed as a canvas and shows the texture of the canvas.  It is my way of presenting a traditional art form in a more contemporary, western format.

   spreading starch                                        

 

The Xuan-boo process involves all the skills and patience of the traditional Xuan on Xuan.  For such small pieces, the first step is to spread the glue (starch) onto the canvas using a wide, stiff brush.  This brush is normally used on the back of the painting; not only to spread starch, but to brush out air bubbles and creases in the wet Xuan.

notice vertical crease extending from bottom of bird's foot, also parallel lotus bud

smooth surface after brushing out creases and air pockets, top overhang margin tacked to the side of frame.

Next we place the Xuan onto the canvas with the starch applied.  We do this with the help of a narrower, but stiff brush.  This is a crucial step where patience and skill is of utmost importance.  The Xuan gets waterlogged and tears easily when wet with starch.  We are not allowed the luxury of repeatedly peeling off and repositioning the Xuan to take out creases or air bubbles.  The brush has to be handled in a gentle yet firm fashion to lay the Xuan flat on the canvas with minimal crease ridges and air pockets.

After the flat surface is secured to our satisfaction, and the overhanging sides of the Xuan is wrapped onto the sides of the canvas frame, we turn the canvas over onto our fleece pad and use a very stiff  palm tree fibre brush to tap and press onto the back of the canvas.  This is to insure a secure bonding of the Xuan with the canvas.

The mounted canvas is now left to air dry and this process takes 3 to 5 hours depending on humidity.
The slower the drying process, the better the tightening (flattening) effect and the resulting canvas has a taut surface with good texture reveal.

Lastly a coating of gel medium  is applied to protect the surface and to further bring out the color depth.

before mounting                       

 

 

after mounting, brings out color

Mounting is an important, integral part of traditional works done with Xuan.  Amongst other things, it brings out the white balance of the painting.  By looking at the before mounting and after mounting pictures, one can appreciate the subtle, but definite difference in the white balance and the vividness of the image (look at the 2 blue stain dots in the upper left quadrant).   I know this person who wants to be a fast track artist, who was too cheap to learn the proper way of mounting, was trying to mount with raw flour because flour was used in the conversation and the wrong assumption was made.   So learn to mount Xuan properly or pay to have that done for you.  It will pay you back a hundred fold.

Yes this is rather labor intensive.  Next time we pay for a piece of Chinese brush painting, do take into account the time and finesse required by this procedure.

Panda Bear III

Not willing to accept failure in the botched branch attempt, I secured another image of panda to paint.

Again my desire was to cut out as much background as feasible.  My scanty thin branches look a lot better this time.  They add to the playful energy of the panda bear and complement nicely the overall composition of this painting.  The body and head of the bear is defined by patches of titanium white instead of a line. The resulting image harbors a livelier feel.

Panda Bear cont'd

I am giving another try at Panda Bear.

 

Again I go to the web for images that I empathize with.  Despite the fact that I am not creating the images, I still want to choose something that speaks to me.  I also want to dispense with too much backgroup chatter.  I don't even want the tree limbs in the last painting.

 

I hope most people can relate to the bond between mother and child.

 I did this one without uing any titanium white and I used contour lines instead to define the shape.

I had wanted to paint in just a few scanty thin branches to occupy the upper right hand corner but I botched my strokes.  To hide my mistakes, I solicited the help of leaves.

Panda Bear

Need to find pieces of work suitable for a school bazaar.

This bazaar is a fund raising event for the school.  A percentage of the proceeds goes to support the arts education program of the school; so it is a worthwhile cause.  Almost by definition, these venues do not command a high dollar amount for individual items.  There are certainly no explicit upper limits placed on items for sale, but implicitly the suggested reign is at $150.

I have used practice sketches or salvaged studio pieces in the past, sort of breathing new life into flawed pieces; but I thought I would do something special this year.

 I cannot AFFORD to devote too much time on any individual pieces in light of the relatively low ceiling on price, so I thought I would paint from images that I could find on the web.  I am not eschewing the notion that art, or creativity for that matter, should not be tied to monetary rewards.  I have known too many people taking short cuts, just to make a fast  buck.  There is however the practicality of getting paid for the efforts that one puts in.  As such, I had already been admonished for low-balling.

For myself, I know my works on critters seem to be well received.  So I am going for the soft spot.  I am painting panda bears for this exercise.

First I need to familiarize with the basic features by doing line sketches and brush works.  After a few sheets of that, I move onto the actual painting.

 

 

 

 

I know in my heart that this is not any serious endeavor, so I approach this job with playfulness.  I had intended to use a wet brush so the ink would bleed in create that "furry" look in my practice piece but that did not materialize.  Out comes the Exacto knife and I started to scrape and feather the edges where I wanted that furry look, i.e. under the chin, arm and lower thigh area.  There was not enough of a separation between the rear horizontal branch and the front ones to give the proper perspective, so I scraped a gap where the branches intersect. 





I know, I know.  These techniques don't belong to Chinese brush painting.  Where is my Bi-fa, my Chi,  and my poetic suggestion.  I can hear Asians walking by my booth, whispering, " he's no good.  That's not Chinese"  To them I'll say, "damn right.  Such is the distinction between craft and art" 

I am just having fun rendering and experimenting.  I don't pretend to be something that I'm not.

Fluted Geese in Splint

My Fluted Canada Geese was accepted into the Visual Arts Showcase in the mixed media category.  The piece is about 4 ft wide and is comprised of vertical strips of an image affixed to a piece of 3-ply.
As in my other examples of mounting a large piece of Xuan on 3-ply, the gluing and drying process exerted quite a toll on the otherwise rigid plywood.  This piece is no exception.  The warping is most evident on the 4 corners.  I cannot present the work as such to the audience.

I glued narrow strips of fir around the back parameter of the 3-ply.  The painting itself is sandwiched between a straight, heavier member of stock and the fir strips.  This extemporaneous splint was clamped and allowed to set overnight.  The result was quite amazing.  The piece of 3-ply is now flat as new.

I then used 1x2 poplar stock to make my frame.  I had to mount the painting as a float due to the splints glued to the back of it.  The frame I built is just big enough to enclose the painting, and has a  recessed back plate.  I wanted the recess to hide my mounting hardware, such that the entire frame would hug the wall sans tilt when hung.  The painting is just below the rim of the frame.  I would have preferred a deeper seating, but the recessed backing took the height of the frame rails.

I chose poplar because the wood tone is a good match to the overall tone of my painting.  I had wanted a transparent coating ( like my Canada Geese Impression frame ) but it looked frigid when finished.   I didn't choose to paint it black because that would cage in the wandering feel.  I finally mixed  white latex paint with  weathered oak stain and allow it to sit on the wood for 15 minutes before wiping  off the excess.  The result was blotches of off white that quietly matched the sky.

The finished product was up on the wall for a week and there was something about it that I didn't like but I couldn't put my finger on it.  With the Showcase deadline closing in, I felt like I was behind the 8 ball and have lost my acumen. 

It finally dawned on me.

In cutting out the plywood with a hand held circular, I was cutting a hair wide at the center (perhaps due to the bowing of the piece, since I don't have a large enough flat surface to set the uncut plywood) and the frame enclosure exposed this fly in the ointment.  One could see a uniform narrow gap around the piece, except at the center bottom where it meets the frame. It was like looking at the different body panels on a car and you find out the trunk lid isn't centered because it has uneven gaps on the sides. Fortunately rigorous sanding took care of the annoying protrusion.

 Now the edge is still not perfect, but it is no longer bulging so obtrusively in the middle and definitely has that handmade look to it.  That is how I console myself.


P.S.  Finally received an award at a juried show, for this piece of work!

Paintings of Water, cont'd

I take photographs of water and waves.  I like them.  I'll share some with you.

I started out with painting circular ripples, I am going to try to paint the linear ones.  In a way, my desire to do this was sparked by visiting an exhibition of Ellsworth Kelly's prints.  I have vivid memories of how those prints of rivers resembled my photos.  Coincidentally, as I glanced at my pile of old vinyls spewed on the floor, I noticed the LP cover of Linda Ronstadt (Different Drum) and it has a water theme.  Nice!

Going linear has not subjugated my errant brush.  Chinese has a saying about holding the brush, that of fingers of  keen grasp (for control ) and a light wrist for expression and movement.  My wrist is still laden with indecisiveness.  Ever try to learn piano or guitar or violin?  There is a disconnect between the hand and the mind resulting in digital arrhythmia and rigor mortis of the fingers.  Definitely not Xieyi!!

 

Obviously I am not thrilled by my etudes, but to add insult to injury, the quipping I received was that " these are not Chinese paintings ".  So what defines or qualifies as a Chinese painting.  What are some of the attributes?  Bi-Fa?  Scattered point perspective?  Treatment of void spaces?  Lack of light values?  Minimalistic?  Poetic?  The 3 Perfections?   Should Chinese paintings be forever entombed in the classics?   Should I feel insulted?  Is it important for my works to be accepted as Chinese paintings?

I myself am getting confused. 

I am not in a position to offer any insights, but I will attach some pictures of water works I took of a famous master painter Ma Yuan from the Song Dynasty ( about 800 years ago ).  

 

 

 

Paintings of Water

I vaguely remembered that my astronomical numbers says my "FATE" is "Wood" based and therefore should refrain from too much "Water", as flood destroys and sweeps away timber.  I believe it is this hazy memory that causes me to be afraid of water, to the point of pinching my nose when showering or else eliciting the reflex of hyperventilating.  Having gills would be numero uno on my dream list.

Yet water mesmerizes me.  The deep abyss with all its might, yet glistens and ripples and glistens.

I love to paint water, trying to capture that fleeting moment of movement, of that sparkle.   Water is a common theme in my paintings.  In fact the way I beguile myself into this hobby was by painting a family of Canada geese swimming by the backyard.  Unfortunately I am often rewarded with frustration but lately I've been exploring this subject matter again.

 this was done in charcoal

Circular ripples are fascinating.  Everybody knows them, but trying to portray them as not cook top heating elements is a different story.

 ink on Xuan                

The difficulty is, in my view, rooted in our innate desire to form and trace the outlines of circles, and ignore ( or unable to ) translate the motion of the ripple.  We should be painting  the energy of the outwardly radiating concentric circles, and not the circles themselves.   I am not happy at all with my attempts, too static!  Forgive me for being a sexist, but this is akin to a nice girl... proper and nice in every way, but ah so bland.  We need to have ripples once in a while.

Note to self:  keep painting these circles until you are sick of them then you'll be released by your bias as to what they SHOULD or NEED to look like.   After these shackles are off, then try again.