One of the sixteen

 "one of the sixteen vestal virgins

  who were leaving for the coast"

That is part of the lyric of  "A Whiter Shade of Pale", the song that motivated me in doing this painting.

I still cannot grasp the meaning of the song, despite my research on the Miller's tale and the Vestal virgins.  Regardless, the song mentions one of the sixteen, and collectively they were leaving.  So what makes this "one" deserving special mentioning?

For this "one" to stand out, I am going to fabricate my own protagonist for this painting.   She must appears to be different from the other fifteen.  My decision is that she should be covered, partially at least.

She would be trying to cover herself  up with a piece of cloth, while leaving her shoulders and knees exposed. 

I am placing her gaze in the direction of the vestal who is fiddling with the sieve.

My rationale for doing that is I want to involve the vestal with the sieve into the group dynamics.  She might be totally occupied with the sieve but she is not alone.  I am developing a story line which I shall divulge near the end of the painting.  For now let's just play along with my plot and acknowledge that her efforts are not unnoticed.  The vestal with the cloth is watching her intently with certain resignation, by covering up,  as if to prepare for a certain outcome.  Why does she need a security blanket all of a sudden?   Could she have, as in the Garden of Eden, eaten the forbidden fruit, lost her innocence and knows shame now?  What is her emotional state? 

Then I look at my painting of the model who is looking up towards the outside of the assembly.  

All of a sudden I am catching an optical illusion.  My intention was to paint the model with the pose of her left arm by the side and extending her right arm forward at an angle.  But when I glance at the painting, it is as if the model is crossing her left arm in front of her chest and resting on her right shoulder.  Once my brain is imprinted with that suggestion, it is difficult for me to interpret any other way.  This is almost like a brain tease that one sees from time to time, whether one sees a rabbit (by seeing the void) or one sees the silhouettes of trees surrounding the void.

For now I am not going to deal with this conundrum.  In a way I think this is really wicked.  It forced me to give pause and ponder.  Is that her elbow or her breasts.  Perhaps I shall let the viewers do the same.

Four new recruits

Now that I have the front row and middle seats filled with vestals, I am looking the fill in the side aisles.  

I surmise I have enough space for 4 models to occupy the left side of the painting.

I am going to paint all four of them and not to wait for the completion of each individual models.  Perhaps I want to have some continuity in my thoughts, or could it be that I am actually getting a little weary over this project.

For this arrangement, I have the top model flat on her back, as if nothing worries her, and having a profite de l'instant attitude.

In contrast the vestal directly below her is doubled over, clenching her fist as in frustration.  I am keeping what I've learned from Chinese painting about contrasts, in form, in density and in meaning.  I am hoping that the viewer will explore the hidden meaning of this painting.  The Ying Yang as you call it.  If all else fails, at least I am secretly rejoiced that I am interpreting and expressing some kind of a notion.

The model to the left of her has an open gesture, as if to appeal or to offer an explanation.  The fact that she has her legs crossed and clamped down signals that she is trying to make herself appear more streamlined and diminutive, making herself more appealing, less confrontational. 

The fourth member of this new recruit team is on her knees crawling over to another vestal who has her leg legs stretched out.    I find the placement of this model tricky.  My first sketching inadvertently placing her outreached hand between the legs of the other model.  The implication of that is rather dubious.  I placate the critic in me by placing her hand behind the legs.

Upon closer examination I become aware of another inadvertent quagmire.  In my haste, I had an impulsive moment to paint some shadows.  I wouldn't exactly call that prosaic, but I did it without much thought or planning, lacking in discipline.

The consequence of such an act renders my model with the appearance of having 3 legs.

In fact I have difficulty deciphering which one is not a leg.  Oh boy!

There is a saving grace for this painting so far however.  The brushstrokes in the top model display such raw energy.  It is true that I try to attain the same virtuosity with all my brushstrokes but this particular model allows the brushstrokes to showcase their own nuances.  I don't know if it has to do with her pose, but all the lines seem to add up and my brush just traverses on its own.  No going over or correction is necessary.  Thus I decide to let this stand as it is, without the same garnishment of fine white lines etc. that all the other models received.  I feel that I had practiced perfect calligraphy.

This particular figure perhaps helps to address the elephant in the room, "What does this painting have to do with Chinese brush painting".  Here I take liberty in interpreting "Chinese brush painting", and by that I mean painting done with a Chinese brush, and not in the narrow context that the painting has to exhibit the stereotypical image of a classical Chinese painting.  Thus the girl's top thigh is done with a center tip brushstroke with the "tips" hidden for round ends.  The bottom thigh is another center tip brushstroke that extends beyond the waist, with rotating brush shaft at the buttock, such that the brush tip is always following the direction of the brush travel.  Areas that have ink is "written" in and not filled in or smeared in as in a coloring book.  One can say that the entire body is made up of  adjoining brushstrokes as in writing.  So here I am trying to extoll the virtues of the Chinese brush and point out some of the nuances.  Am I being didactic?

A most fortuitous happening for sure.  

Filling in the middle

 Now that I have the front row of Vestals established, and having the clue in the form of a sieve placed in my painting, I need to think about growing the numbers of vestals.

I will fill up the space behind the vestal with the sieve first.  I shall try a pose of the model sitting on the bent over sieve model, in appearance anyways.

I think this is an interesting pose, having models arched in opposite directions, forming an X, creating some sort of tension.

To fill in the space between the two models, I insert a model looking upwards at a 45 degree angle, directing the viewer outside of the painting.

A third model is placed on her knees, crawling over to another model with outreached arm, establishing some sort of a connection.

The Sieve

As I said from the beginning, when I first thought about painting the Vestal virgins, I worried about if the painting could be considered obscene and not suitable for public places.  My plan was to obfuscate with misplaced shadows and lights and outlines to make the obvious less obvious?  Does that even make sense?  

I also alluded to what I've learned about the Vestal Virgins, of the belief that these Priestesses possessing magical power, and as proof of their chastity by rendering a sieve leak-proof.  In other words, they can carry water with sieves.  My plan then was to include a sieve, or sieves in my painting to give it a smidgen of historical facts.  Perhaps not everybody researched the topic and some of us would wonder about the significance of such sieves and beg the question.   This would be an interesting morsel of trivia anyways.

There, this painting is not about nudity but references tantalizing background information about the institution of Vestals.  I feel much better now.

The nude is born with a pencil sketching first.

Defining my light values with ink and flesh color acrylic, and finish up with wavy white and ink lines for definition and highlights.

I am establishing the first hint that this is a painting about the Vestals.  A Vestal fidgeting with a sieve to see if it's still watertight?  Perhaps to validate her status as a Vestal Virgin?

As I am planting the clues I get a sense of going down the rabbit hole.  What to reveal next.  

Calling All Vestals

When I visited museums I see lots of nude paintings and sculptures, so for me to worry about my attempt to include nudes in my painting is unfathomable.  Or is it.  Perhaps my heart is not pure.  My intentions not noble?  I suppose it is my cross to bear.

Anyways after I finished my attempt in painting my first Vestal, and deemed it not objectionable, I was a little more reassured to forge ahead with more.

My first pose has the model lying flat on her side facing me with her head pointing west.  I am picking a similar pose but with the head facing east and erect.  I believe this is a pleasing composition.  Sketching out the position and pose, I fill in the light values.  For this particular attempt, I am using flesh color acrylic to fill in as some of my highlights.  I think this is a interesting changeup.  

  

I am tempted to leave the painting as it is because I do like the looks of it.  I lost the argument with myself and subsequently finish up the second model along the same fashion as I did the first one, with wavy white lines for highlighted areas and wavy black lines to add to the foundation.  The wavy lines remind me of the veins in marble.  Perhaps I'm role playing a sculptor?

I notice my Xuan picked up a grease stain from my wool under-pad placed under the Xuan paper.  I consider this infarction as one of the banes of my life.  I am never disciplined enough to separate my working space from my eating space.  I am just a happy go lucky guy that often do things on a whim. So the logical solution for mitigating the grease stain is to paint something over that.

For my third nude, the "cover-the-stain-model", I think having the model lying on her side with her back facing me would be interesting.

That looks very pleasing indeed.  Again flesh color acrylic is used (along with empty clear spaces and ink) to define light values.  The same wavy line treatment is applied to finish up this sketch.

My fourth pose would have the model assume a sitting position, beginning to develop a dialogue with the rest of the model?  At least in theory anyways.

Close-up view of the wavy lines on the sketch

So now the painting looks like this

I must say I do enjoy the painting so far, and the painting process of course.  This is a new process for me and has invigorated me.  I found a new toy, a new game to occupy my time.

I am particularly fond of the composition so far.  

The two figures in the foreground are facing opposite ways, but their poses showcase the beautiful lines of the female body.  The fact that the two nudes have opposite light values is also an interesting contrast, and it just happened surreptitiously, I must admit.  I also like the last model facing inside and towards the group, albeit a little aloof, with an attitude.  As if she is basking in adulation from the model next to her.

Another grease stain.  Oh no!

Secret Asian Man

 "There's a man who leads a life of danger, to everyone he meets he stays a stranger.  With every move he makes another chance he takes, odds are he won't live to see tomorrow.   Secret agent man, secret agent man"

Those are the lyrics of Johnny Rivers' song "Secret Agent Man".

For someone who speaks English, those lyrics make sense, especially on paper.  However, once the lyrics are mixed with music tracks and whatnot, some of those words get obscured, especially for a non-native English speaker.

As I was growing up in Hong Kong listening to "pop" songs, I was more enamored with the melody and rhythm of a song, and lyrics often didn't mean much, not unless it was a slow love ballad.  Mostly because I didn't understand or couldn't figure out the words.

Thus for the longest time Johnny Rivers song became the "Secret Asian Man" for me.  All I could hear was the refrain "secret Asian man, secret Asian man".  Those were the only phrases I could sing along with to the transistor radio broadcast.  Frankly I didn't care why he was singing about a secret Asian man.

Fast forward 50 years I come across an old song that I loved "Whiter Shade Of Pale" by Procol Harum.  Now that my English proficiency is better than 50 years ago, I am now listening with a lot of curiosity and wanting answers; aside from the usual attraction of melody and chord changes.  First off I still don't see any connection of this song with Air on a G string.  I just don't understand how this work can be eponymous with Bach.  Then words like "miller" told his story, and 16 Vestal Virgins intrigued me.  What was Keith Reid trying to obfuscate?

Fortunately I have these avuncular search engines that never scoff at my ignorance.  I am being taken down the rabbit's hole.  At the end of the day, I am no closer to comprehending the meaning of the song, but at least I can understand the references.  I find myself being teased with the idea of painting the 16 Vestal Virgins.

For some reason my mental image of virgins are more in line with nude figures than what the Holy Book portrayed, but that's another topic.  So if I am to proceed with this "tease", how am I going to approach it. 

I am immediately faced with two challenges: I've not studied painting of a human body and how do I walk the fine line of nudity and obscenity.  I recall watching a presentation of some movie director and he alluded to the same dilemma when filming scenes with nudity.  His answer was in the lighting.  He went into great depth as to how he orchestrated the shadows and highlights and staged them on the human body in such a way that one would not hesitate to watch that movie with their parents.

I am going to try my best to eschew vulgarity.  I wonder if the inclusion of a sieve as a prop could validate my noble intent, since it is often associated with the magical power of the Vestals.

I had received some antique colored Xuan paper with golden flakes as a present, so I am going to use that as my inaugural paper for my Vestals painting.

I am hoping that the random golden flakes could either diffuse the painted images of nude bodies or add some semblance of art (yes, sarcasm ).

I sketch out a body on my Xuan paper and write in the dark areas with ink brush.

A brush with just water running alongside the dark brushstrokes draws out some of the ink and fills in the rest of the body.  Pretending that I am the director, I am placing the model in a backlit environment and a much weaker diffused high front lighting on the ventral aspects of the body.  In my mind the body shall don highlighted contour lines.

I am using opaque white to write on the contours of the body and also to hash wavy lines on the illuminated parts of the body.

I try to fine tune the hash marks a little, especially relative to the dark background.  I am trying to strike a balance between a representational form and a somewhat abstract rendering of that form.  I don't know, to make it more wholesome???  If this works, I shall continue to build on this painting.  

I know this is somewhat a departure from what I usually do, but the kid in me urges me to be a bit sophomoric.  For now I'll give myself a chance to ruminate on that possibility.

    

Beaten Paths

I was granted a deeper understanding of  Vive Ya.

On a recent trip I took to Nevada, our tour bus travelled through an area of Oregon that was devastated by forest wild fire a year ago.  The highway carved its way along a narrow river valley cradled by steep hills on both sides.  I definitely understand now why people chose places like that to be their homesteads.  So picturesque.  Before the fire that is.

The steep hills adjacent to the highway meant the miles of charred and burnt timber that needed to be fallen had no place to fall.  Thus the highway was reduced to one lane traffic with pilot cars leading the convoys of alternating come and go traffic, and the wait was up to 30 minutes at times.  During these stops, I saw for the first time how extensive the inferno was, and was trying hard to play the game of make-believe; which escape route would I have chosen. The shoulders of the highway was transformed into make shift lumber mills, where the burnt timber was cut to length so they could fit on logging trucks, and all the scraps were turned into wood chips and piled on the side of the highways.  The air was still rancid and veiled in smoke from new fires that were burning in other parts of Oregon.  A burnt and abandoned fire-truck on the side of the highway was the ultimate testament to the ferocious fire; the whole scene was just like a doomsday movie set.

Yet in this charred out landscape, one could see new stick-frames of two by fours being erected, and concrete foundations being poured.  Rebuilding has already started.  Resiliency.  A will to survive. 

I didn't know this was just a prelude to the events to follow.

We reached Nevada and gambling was legal.  One of the fellow passenger was having an upper hand at the slot machine one night in the hotel lobby and we told her in jest, "Quit while you're ahead. By the way, where is your hubby?"

"He wasn't feeling too good so he's resting in the room"

Next morning after boarding the tour bus, we were told that we would not be departing on time.  One of the fellow passenger had passed away during the night and his widow now had to make the necessary arrangements.  The lady who had luck with the slot machine lost her husband that night.

As it turned out, the couple was celebrating their 53rd wedding anniversary on this trip as the now widow announced through her quivering voice. " At least now my husband's in a happier place!"   As one life cycle ends, another cycle begins... I surmised.  She has to find new meanings for life.

Vive Ya!

Indeed my last blog was about not being afraid to change, I just happened to paraphrase Live Now.

While still thinking about my new way to "chuen" tree stands, I was having a video chat with my brother.  For some reason he blurted out a phrase that I was not familiar with.

" 桃李無言 "

That translates to peach and pear say nothing.

He elucidated me that this was a verse from a famous Southern Song poet and statesman Xin Qiji (辛棄疾).   The complete verse was "桃李無言 下自成蹊", which means " peach and pear trees need not say anything, but because of their flowers and fruits, beaten paths are formed under the trees from people frequenting them".   As long as one is true, an audience will be granted.  Such wisdom is sorely needed in today's society, where social media and infuencers relentlessly hype a buzz word or a cliche, trivializing everything in their paths.  Perhaps I've witnessed one too many painting of a raised fist.

I found resonance in these eight words, so I incorporated them into my painting.  True my painting was not about peach or pear trees, but nonetheless trails were built under trees because they provide shade and respite.  If we insist on the literal interpretation of the words, then we've missed the boat entirely.  I am not revealing the words by circling them and pointing them out.  They shall remain enigmatic, sort of a challenge to locate them, even for myself.  Suffice to say that they are right smack in the middle of the painting, becoming the texture of tree barks. 

I chose to color the painting from the back of the Xuan, first yellow then green, giving it just a hint of color, setting a mood instead of announcing an overt presence.

I do like the apparent depth provided by coloring on the back of the Xuan paper.  I don't know whether it's psychological or not, but the fact that the color seeps through from the back seems to have added distance to the whole setting.  There is a three dimensional feel to the painting.  

Also the fact that the color is not directly reflected from the surface, it is very much attenuated under dim lighting of indoors.

Whereas under a well lit setting, more green comes through the fibers

I suppose we do perceive different feelings during different times of the day in the same woods.
If I am bound by the same woods, at least I get to enjoy the different lightings of these woods and muse at the significance, or lack of, through these transformations.   Who knows, if I wander long enough I might carve out my own beaten paths.