Bane of my existence

FaceTime and WhatsApp are indispensable apps these days, thanks in part to the pandemic.  Regardless, these apps dissolve the physical distance between people and the audio/visual combination makes the virtual visitation experience credible.  Kudos to whoever made it possible for multiple people to connect at the same time. 

My ensemble of siblings is situated on 3 different continents and in 3 different time zones; so we usually meet at a time which would not inconvenience any one of us too much.  During a recent visit, one of my siblings started to recite a verse from some poetry.  That verse was somewhat familiar to the rest of us, yet we couldn't identify the origin readily.  Thus the source of the verse became the conversation for the next half hour.  The sibling who uttered that poem said it was from the collection of the Three Hundred Tang Poems.  

Tang Poems was a subject that each one of us in the group had to study as part of the school curriculum.  That was at least half a century ago. The amazing thing was that we were all able to produce our own copy of the Tang Poems and proudly displayed our book in front of the camera and the conversation quickly turned to a bantering of who owns the most "antique" edition of the publication, as if that really mattered.  Obviously we all considered the collection of Tang Poems a worthy addition to our library.  

Some days later, I was with another clique of overseas friends online and one of them mentioned something about how some of the Chinese hit songs borrowed verses from well known Chinese literature and turned them into part of the lyrics or part of the title.  The topic that day centered around a poetry that dealt with the historic Battle of Red Cliffs.  I won't bore you with the historical facts.  It is easy enough to find it on the internet.  I am not a total stranger to this poetry, since the author was Su Dongpo.  Su was visiting the Red Cliffs, which evoked in him a sentiment of inopportune times and not earning the respect he deserved. 

I decided to do a painting based on Su's writing of  "The Red Cliffs Nostalgia" and I would be putting calligraphy on my painting.  I will be paring down his poetry into a more manageable length, not only to save space, but to save grace.  My grace.

The bane of my existence, and there are two.  I wish I could properly play at least one musical instrument; I wish I have good brush calligraphy.

I had labored over Su Dongpo's calligraphy during my course of learning Chinese Brush.  One that I studied and emulated extensively was his Cold Food Festival writing.  Since it was learning by rote for me, I never internalized the calligraphy.  In other words, I have horrible handwriting, in the absence of the Te.  In order not to "ruin" my painting, I decided to do my calligraphy first.  I won't start my painting process until I deem my calligraphy "presentable".  That is how much I dread my own calligraphy.

I started my practicing routine.

The gist of the pared down writing is:

"The incessant waves urge the river eastward, taking with them all the accomplished people.  Such picturesque landscape, how much history have you witnessed.  Perhaps I am being too sentimental, reminiscing the days gone by.  Life is but a dream; allow me to scatter my wine, ode to the river and the moon."

I finally took a deep breath, threw my hands up and settled on this edition:

I find such resonance in these words, hence the motivation for my new painting.

Ethnicity and Culture in arts

Aside from brush painting, music is my other vice. I was watching a recording of a masterclass given by a musician who had been immersed in the art for half a century.  This particular segment involved a singer who sang 'Du bist die Ruh' for the workshop.  This song was composed by Franz Schubert, lending his music to poem of a German poet.  The soft and expressive song would demand more than perfect pitch and breath control from the singer, as I came to find out. 

After the customary pat on the back, the master laid into the singer and sermonized the real issue.

"This is not an opera. Lieder! Lieder!"

What I find impressive is the master was contrasting Opera and Lied.  I know these are different genres of works, but I believe ethnicity and culture play a huge role in defining opera and Lied as we know them in western music.  When the master screams passionately "Lieder, Lieder" he is succinctly pointing out the narrow definition of a song form which Schubert happens to be perhaps the most famous Romantic composer.  What was demanded of the student in the masterclass was not only the technique, but what was summed up in three words, "Give me Lieder"!  We know immediately that this is music of a poetic German song form.  The setting of a solo voice and piano does not necessarily reward a real projection of voice, but the piano and the singer share equal burdens to narrate the poetry musically.

Since beauty is in the eye of the beholder, can't we say songs are in the ears of the beholder also?  Does music not function as a trigger, and the audience empathize and reverberate with their own life experiences, regardless of the quality of the performance?  Yes, but then this defeats the purpose of conducting a masterclass on singing, does it not?  Famous caveat from the master: "you can perform the music however you want, but this is what I suggest."

Thus one would not expect this Lied from Schubert to sound like a recitative from Don Giovanni. In this case, it has to have the personality of a Lied, which is foremost; and it has to sound like Schubert, and not Mozart. The singer needs to make belief that these are his precious and sensual words, and I am paraphrasing here. ' You are the calm, close the gate softly behind you; drive the pain out of the breast, my heart full with pleasure'.  The drama is from within.  The student however placed technique and accuracy above the cultural nuance of Lieder and failed to convey the delicate feeling of the Lied.

I had the pleasure of listening to a performance of Butterfly Lovers Violin Concerto, which has a synopsis based on a well-known Chinese folklore.  The performance was by a violin soloist and accompanied by piano and not a full orchestra.  Both the violinist and the accompanist performed beautifully and yet people were arguing whether the soloist was a Chinese, Korean or Japanese.  And there were also comments to the effect that anybody could play Mozart or Bach, thus her ethnicity had no bearing to her performance.  Is such a statement an extrapolation of "music transcends all racial barriers", or is it a misunderstanding and misinterpretation of the phrase?  The argument here should be if the soloist in particular, was able to articulate the love tragedy resulting from hidden identity and arranged marriage in the old Feudal Chinese society.  I have a recording of this piece performed on an  Erhu, and I would go so far as to say that this Chinese bowed instrument is even more suited to portray the temperament of the composition.  Perhaps the Erhu itself is unmistakably Chinese??  Not convinced?  Imagine listening to a Wieniawski violin concerto played with an Erhu and you'll understand what I am attempting to convey.

Then I had the misfortune of listening to a clip sent by a friend of mine, of a western harpist playing a very famous Chinese tune on a western harp.

First of all, allow me to emphasize that I am not objecting to playing Chinese music with western musical instrument.  Heaven knows I spent my childhood playing scores of Chinese tunes on my harmonica; and sometimes on a cracked violin in the fire-escape staircase ( to get better acoustics ).  What I am having issue here is the interpretation of the Chinese music.  My beef is not with the instrument, but with the musician.

Chinese music has not attained the global status of classical music in that classical music have been played millions of times in the modern world and have millions of recordings by different artists that one can easily emulate.  I mean, no human alive today would know how exactly Mahler or Schubert played their works, other than markings of dynamics, expression, tempo and perhaps a few handwritten footnotes on the original scores.  With subsequent invention of recording, there are tons of recordings of their works by the later musicians.  After a while the collective styles of such playing become standards and different scholars chime in with their opinion of how a piece should really sound like.  With claims such as "a Schubert pianissimo is not the same as a Chopin pianissimo", as if the claimant was by the side of the composers when the music was written.  For a "catchy" Chinese tune to be performed properly, especially by a non-Chinese, it takes more than technique, but an immersion in the culture in order to distill the flavor of a Chinese song.  It takes understanding.  There just aren't as many examples of "proofs" of these Chinese songs that one can study and emulate.  Often times western musicians become parrots; repeating musical phrases without necessarily understanding them.  Of course the same applies to Asian musicians playing western compositions.  Too often we generalize Chinese and the West as two distinct monoliths and do not want to invest the effort into a better understanding of the differences and similarities between the two, especially from a cultural and linguistic point of view.

The harp piece I listened to was played very energetically; bright and full of confidence; with all the attributes of a top-notch harpist.  The harpist made percussive sounds by pounding on the wooden soundboard, as if to imitate a rim shot on a lion dance drum.

The Chinese piece that was played paints a very serene and calming scene, with the full moon tailing this little boat as it floats quietly along a river through mist, white sand and tree branches.  The song asks the rhetorical question of whether the boater's lover (who was not in the boat) gets to witness the same moon as the boater and experiences the same inevitable journey of the boat gliding downstream, not being able to back paddle. They are drifting away from each other, with no assurance of a rendezvous.  Time waits for nobody.

The song was about separation, longing and the passage of time.  The gamut of emotions would not accommodate bright plucking, nor drum percussion effect.  The moon light bathes the boat in misty air and shimmering water.  The moon light was not a beam of lightning from claps of thunder.  Granted the startling percussion might have sounded great in other songs, but to embellish this particular song with that is the worst kind of patronizing possible.  Cultural differences become cultural barriers and nothing gets transcended.  It is suspect of adding a cliché Asian element to make something more Asian.  Regrettably, robing Marilyn Monroe in qipao does not make her Chinese.  Is this an example of cultural appropriation, I wonder.  Obviously music is a performing art and the artist has the freedom to interpret the music.  Within the context of the piece, that is.  I like to believe the era of playing some pentatonic dissonant riffs and finishing with a loud gong to portray Asian music or culture is behind us. 

I was invited to a swanky American restaurant for their outlandishly priced Tasting Menu and one of the courses was Chinese Broccoli with Beef.  An army of servers marched out in procession each clutching an iconic Chinese Take-out box, apparently to add drama to the presentation, and to convince the patrons that their meal ticket was well spent, and served the eight patrons seated at my table simultaneously.  Chinese use a wok for stir fry because the curved sides of the wok offers a temperature gradient to modulate the cooking process and the concave bottom allows a reservoir of hot oil to sit in, extracting the flavors of garlic and ginger and what not, infusing the food with these subtle aroma.  The beef in the Chinese Broccoli with Beef must be flashed in hot oil and not be smothered on a grill or a flat pan and dressed with Oyster Sauce.  There is such a saying in the Cantonese vernacular regarding cooking, and it's called "Wok Hay".  "Hay" is the Cantonese pronunciation for "Chi", thus wok energy.  In other words, a person should be able to feel and enumerate the heat of the wok and the steps in throwing the ingredients together, with their palate.  Obviously this pretentious restaurant knew convincingly little about the art of Chinese cooking.  Anyways I asked the waiter to inform the Chef that his/her version of Chinese Broccoli with Beef was an insult to Chinese food, and if he/she wishes, I would be happy to give him/her a few pointers in the kitchen.  Obviously I was ignored, and the restaurant didn't even have the courtesy to discount my exorbitant food bill.

Hence I submit ethnicity and culture are critical, albeit not always obvious, factors in shaping and understanding art and we appreciate and practice art based on our own inventory of sensibilities and prejudices.  Different cultures have vastly different preferences in spices and tastes in epicurean art so why are other disciplines of art immune from cultural influences.  Music in this case is inextricably tied to the language of the culture.  It carries the cadence and inflection that is unique to the language in question. Perhaps I can draw similarities between speaking a native language or speaking with a foreign accent. I further submit that culture is more encompassing than ethnicity.  This is the basis behind the term "banana", a derisive nomenclature used to denote people who are "yellow on the outside, but white on the inside".  Culture affects everything we do, even in the arts.  

Perhaps two examples of paintings can help to further illustrate my point.  Vincent Van Gogh did a painting of a Japanese courtesan, based on a original painting of a courtesan by a Japanese painter Keisai Eisen.  (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keisai_Eisen)  Van Gogh tried to be faithful with the facial features and the headdress and the backward glance of the courtesan but took liberty with the kimono and the background. ( https://www.vangoghmuseum.nl/en/collection/s0116V1962)  It wouldn't take but a cursory look to sense the different flavors in the two works, and which one is done by a Japanese painter. So the elephant in the room is, what are the defining factors, what are the clues.  What makes Schubert different from Puccini; Van Gogh from Eisen; East from West.

Then an Italian missionary came to the East; China specifically, during the Qing dynasty and stayed for half a century.  He painted a huge body of works, a lot of which borrowed the classical Chinese painting technique and ethos.  Some of the exotic animals in the paintings and perhaps his not quite Chinese way of  managing color and light values betrayed his ethnicity/culture but only to the discerning eye.  Did his cultural biases and identity prevented him from adapting and adopting one hundred percent to the discipline of Chinese painting?  One could say that his native tongue and "accent" in his painting gave him away.  I am of course referring to Giuseppe  Castiglione.     https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giuseppe_Castiglione_(Jesuit_painter)

I was using the example of Lieder to state my case of how ethnicity and culture might impact performing art.  To draw an example from the East, falsetto voices from Chinese Opera, be it Peking or Cantonese is so unique that there could be no mistaking them as being absolutely uniquely Chinese. Even folk songs from different regions of China carry their own nuances and it will be just as plausible for a presenter of masterclass on Chinese songs to demand "Hungmei tone! Huangmei tone!"  Thus it is just as crucial for the performer to know about the origin and style of this genre of songs, drawing a parallel to the "Lieder" example.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Huangmei_opera

Falsettos are commonly employed in both Western and Eastern singing.  They are however vastly different in various cultures and they can identify the culture associated with them.

In visual arts "Chuen" is a technique that is almost ubiquitous in classical Chinese landscape paintings.  I alluded to it in my blog "Gou, Chuen, Ts'a, R'an".  It is the brushstroke used to impart texture to the landscape.  The closest equivalence from the West that I could summon is perhaps the "hatching" or "cross-hatching" technique in drawing.  The lines are used as a non-messy way of shading an object, and to a lesser extent, adding some texture.  "Chuen" on the other hand, is used mainly to characterize texture, and to a lesser extent, shading.  We have the elements of Ts'a (rubbing) and R'an (wash) to satisfy the shading part.  It is interesting to note that shading is almost always judiciously applied and strong shading is actually not preferred in classical painting; it could be misconstrued as being a "dirty stain".  I believe this is the reason classical Chinese paintings are very two-dimensional and flat looking; especially in portraits.  The mark of competency, the Rembrandt Triangle of the Western ideal would have resulted in more than a brow beating.

Rote learning being a necessary evil in perfecting the craft of Chinese Brush painting, the Mustard Seed Garden has pages on the various styles of "chuen" by different masters and a compendium of some typical ways to "chuen", and the students are expected to pore over these materials and keep emulating until they "get it".  With easy-to-understand names such as lotus leaf, draping hemp fibers, folded ribbons, axe hatching, sesame seed etc., the "chuen" brushstroke sometimes utilizes the tip of the brush only, sometimes the side of the brush is employed for effect.  The accompanied pictures are taken from the book of Mustard Seed Garden showing the different "chuen" brushstrokes.

The presence of "chuen" brushstrokes in a landscape painting would be a good indicator that the painter has studied Chinese Brush painting methods because it is uniquely Chinese.  Chinese brush painting like everything else cannot exist in a vacuum and as interaction with other civilization increases, a western and other Asian cultural influence is inevitable and hybridization ensues.  However, even the relatively contemporary Qi Baisi and Zhang Daqian still employed such classical techniques such as "chuen". The contemporary impressionist Wu Guanzhong on the other hand only showed remnants of such practice. https://www.comuseum.com/painting/masters/wu-guanzhong/ 

In reviewing my old paintings, I realized that I skimmed on the "chuen" aspect of my paintings and relied on the rubbing and wash elements to render the dimensional feel, and I definitely would not call myself a contemporary impressionist!  

I can feel the conductor of Classical Chinese Brush MasterClass barking at me: "Chuen!  Chuen!"

There are only two reasons for that, being inept and being lazy.  Or could it be that I am westernized?

Since I don't have anything better, or more meaningful to do, I decide to paint over one of my finished paintings and build up more "chuen" brushstrokes.  I have nothing to lose but a piece of paper should I fail.

So I forge ahead with the ribbon and hemp fiber and sesame seed "chuen" strokes and build on the areas that had been rubbed and washed previously.

The right side of the painting is now much darker, due to the additional brushstrokes.  This makes a even stronger contrast to the landscape across the water, and this is the effect I am looking for.  The precipitous rock face is now convincingly in the shadow, against the backdrop of the salmon colored sky.  The added "cheun" most definitely gives the landscape loads of texture, giving it a three-dimensional appearance.  One might say that it has pop now.  But then I might have committed the crime of rendering my painting too dimensional, too forceful; in the realm of classical virtues anyways.  Perhaps my work is more of a elevator music variety than a Lied.  Perhaps this is the reason some of my peers shun me.

I decide to reign myself in and do some honest practicing on the technique of "chuen".  Practice makes perfect, I am told. 

I must say my homework looks a lot more "Chinese" than my previous works. My mountain lobes look very classical and Chinese.  So has my ethnicity or culture changed?  

I've been overseas for over half a century, so for all practical purposes I am a "foreigner" steeped in western culture.  I speak English everyday, at my job and socially and yet I can't shake my Chinese accent. I should have become a "banana" like my children but somehow I didn't.  What I've become is a over-ripen banana, yellow on the outside and a mishmash of white and yellow on the inside.  Does that affect how I interpret the world, and arts?

Perhaps I am just confused. 

A Whiter Shade Of Pale

Having finished my painting of the Vestal virgins, it is time to dress it ( the painting ) up properly.  That being a painting done on Xuan paper, I am going to mount my painting the traditional way, with starch for wet mounting.

I also want to try something that I've been contemplating for a long, long time; and that is to mount border strips onto the painting, creating a built-in mat look, like the pros do.  Since I don't have any brocade material for my borders, I shall settle for the same gold flaked Xuan paper that I painted on, but a white one to contrast with the yellow that the painting sits on.  My theory is that I need to do the border mounting before the mounted painting is dried.  This is to avoid differential drying of the Xuan papers if the adhesion process is done after the initial mounting is dried.  

Before I permanently seal the fate of my Vestals by fixing them onto my backing Xuan paper, I obviously need to correct the apparent 3rd leg of No.2 vestal and the exceptionally long forearm of No.8 vestal. 

The painting is wet mounted with starch on a regular backing of white Xuan paper.  The placement of the painting and the size of the backing are critical to allow room for the borders that are yet to be attached.

The next step is to fix the border strips that I pre-cut to proper width and length.  The photo below shows the border strip on the top of the frame.

The bottom border strip is then attached.  I use the width of the painting as a guide for my top and bottom border strips, making it that much easier to line up and place the borders properly.  I really don't want to take any chances with these wet, floppy strips of  wet tissues, in essence.  

This is the view of all four borders attached to the mounting when all the pieces are still wet.

The mounting is left to dry and will be harvested after drying.

Now I have a painting that is inspired by the song "A Whiter Shade Of Pale", by the band Procol Harum.

And so it was that later

As the miller told his tale

That her face, at first just ghostly

Turned a whiter shade of pale

She said, there is no reason'

And the truth is plain to see

But I wandered through my playing cards

And would not let her be

One of the sixteen vestal virgins

Who were leaving for the coast

And although my eyes were open

They might have just as well've been closed

And no, I still do not make sense of the above lyrics, and there are various versions of explanations, some of them more colorful than others.

I've not read the Canterbury Tales, of which The Miller's Tale is one. I never dabbled in English Literature in my studies.  Suffice to know that story the miller told was about marital betrayal and debauchery, albeit a little raunchy.  There's a theory that the reason "she turned a whiter shade of pale" was perhaps the "tale" mirrored her predicament.  "Skipping fandango" and "turning cartwheel" at the beginning of the song might be describing our female protagonist having fun dancing and being crazy while out partying, not necessarily with her spouse.  Thus she turned "a whiter shade of pale" upon seeing the similarities between her and the "tale".  Of course there is also a belief that turning a whiter shade of pale describes the effect of too much alcohol, or as in the 60's, alcohol and other illicit substances mixed together; "the room was humming harder, as the ceiling flew away", so goes the song.

A plausible explanation for the Vestal Virgins to leave for the coast is that they failed to uphold their duties as guardians of the sacred fire at the hearth of the goddess Vesta.  Somehow the fire went out and they are fleeing the punishment for their dereliction of duty.

Thus I am unabashedly assuming the role of the "miller" here, and weave my own story as an one-up to the original miller's tale.  My "tale" says one of the Vestal Virgins actually breaks the vow of chastity and her belly is betraying her and therefore the whole cabal is being condemned.  I am borrowing this storyline to portray the gamut of human emotions when dealing with the consequences of indiscretion.  From denial, to bargaining, acceptance and despair.  One of the Vestals is seen examining a giant sieve, to see if the Vestal's magical power of carrying water with a sieve is still intact.  A light just went off in my head, could our lady in the lyric also be having a pregnancy outside of wedlock?  Thus turning a whiter shade of pale?

Hence my painting. 

I imbued it with my own twist.  I sincerely hope Keith Reid does not mind. 

Happy New Year! Year of the Tiger

Wishing you all a healthy and prosperous New Year! 

May we all find our Bliss!

Pouncing Tiger

Chinese New Year is fast approaching and the zodiac animal for the new year will be a tiger.

I want to attempt a tiger that has vigor and might, not one that is leisurely roaming in bamboo groves.  I have an image of a fierce tiger with outreached menacing paws pouncing towards the viewer.

I am going to be using the same Xuan paper with golden flakes that I received as a gift.  I used that for my last painting project and I loved it.  I believe the golden flakes will be most appropriate for the occasion and it saves me from sprinkling my own glitter onto the painting. 

I trim off the corners of a square piece of paper to make it appear more roundish. I am using a saucer as my template for the corners. My painting is going to be set in a rectangular frame and I do prefer the contrast of a rectangle and a circle.  I am a subscriber to the ethos of a round heaven and a square earth.  My pouncing tiger with its tail and extended paws shall require some length, so I shall paint my tiger diagonally on my paper.

I am starting with the tail, seemingly the easiest part of the body to paint.  Traditional Chinese brush painting techniques generally are divided into two major styles, that on Xieyi and Gongbi.  Xieyi literally means to write with expression and typically relies on the nuances of brushstrokes for form and expression.  Whereas Gongbi means crafty brush and relies on meticulous lines with filled in color to achieve the painting, and is more regimented.  Having said that, many Chinese brush paintings incorporate a combination of both styles and techniques; a typical landscape painting comes to mind.

I will confess to being sort of a renegade and do not adhere to such strict doctrines and like to do what comes naturally, doodling!  I don't even mind the derisive comments for my sometimes reliance on sketched outlines.  Loading my brush with light ink and burnt sienna and painted the tail.  Bands of dark drier ink is added after the tail dries.

The two lone brushstroke gives the tail a 3-dimensional appearance.  

My tiger painting needs the paws of the tiger to demonstrate vigor so I am paying special attention to give them realism.  Rubbing with a dry ink brush helps to render texture to the callused pads under the paw.  Distinct outlines with the frayed brush delineate the exposed nails.

The head of the tiger actually is easier than one might think to paint.  As long as the position of the eyes and nostrils are correct, the rest will gel itself since the stripes will hide any mistakes and help to personify and validate the species.

The brush is now loaded with burnt sienna and cinnabar to form the body of the beast.

The tiger comes to life once the whiskers and camouflage stripes are painted.

This golden flaked Xuan does not enjoy heavy coloration; the binders in the color forms stiff patches on the paper and causes the paper around the colored area to buckle and crease.  This is what happens when I try to iron out the warping,

Thus this leaves me no choice but to wet mount the painting onto a regular Xuan backing, as I do with most of my other works

So the tugging and pulling during the drying process eliminates the warping!  Now I can either frame it or mount it onto canvas or wood board and the painting shall be flat as a runway.  

16 vestal virgins all accounted for

 Now that I have all my 16 Vestals assembled, I have the painting pinned on my wall to begin my self critique.

The first thing that comes to mind is that the painting somehow lacks the drama that I am looking for.  Perhaps this has to do with the way the painting was worked up, each pose at a time over a period of months and therefore missing is the continuity.  I feel that there needs to be some cohesiveness to bring this scattered lot together; for this painting to gel.  Perhaps the message in the painting is not obvious and people see trees instead of the forest.  I would be clueless too.

Because there are so many characters in this composition that I have fabricated, I am labelling my models with numbers so that I can assume the role of the Miller and tell my tale.

No.1  This girl has her back to the light, and to the group.  She is obviously enjoying herself, not fazed              by the impending perils.  Perhaps in denial.

No.2  The elephant in the room is that she seems to have grown a third leg.  In my haste of painting                  some shading I have grafted another limb onto her.  She also seems to be in a jovial mood, sort                of mirroring her friend in front of her, with her legs pointing at opposite directions to make the                composition more interesting.

 No.3 She is in direct contrast with model No.1, with her back turned towards the audience and                          receiving the full light value.  Her hips and exaggerated buttocks are the obvious points of                        interest.  The  downward curvature of this model also contrasts with the upward arch of the hips              from her neighbor.  She seems to be luring the viewer with her coyness and playful feet.

No.4   She sits upright with a perfectly straight back and an open gesture, albeit a little standoffish. She             is open to what's going on, while standing her ground nonetheless.  She is not ready to succumb               to other people's faults.

No.5   I've decided that she is the protagonist of the tale.  She is the reason why the vestal virgins are                 leaving.  Look closely and one can see that she is bearing a child.  Vestal virgins are supposed to             be priestesses who take a vow of chastity for 30 years.  For them to break celibacy during their                 priestesshood means they shall receive the punishment of being buried alive.  She is seen here                 humiliated by her predicament, and reaching out to No.6 to seek counsel and sympathy.

No.6  She appears to be sitting on No.7, for the convenience of posing.  She has both her hands under                her chin, perhaps nonchalantly amused by the accounts and pleas from No. 5.

No.7  This Vestal virgin is seen examining and fiddling with her sieve.  It is believed that aside from                  enjoying many privileges bestowed upon them by the Roman state, Vestals also possess magical              power, one of which is to render a sieve not leak water.  Thus the Vestal virgin here is trying to                find out if her magical power is still intact.  Why would she question her magical power now?                  Because one or more of her peers violated the vow of celibacy.

No.8  She is just a naïve Vestal failing to comprehend the doom of group.  I've painted her arm too                    long, forcing the issue of placing her hand near the feet of No.8, playing a game.

No.9  This is a person who fully understands the plight of the cabal she's part of.  She is aware that the              group is condemned to die.  She is curled up in a fetal position, withdrawn from the world, even              as the rest of the group is trying to find a way out by pleading their case.

No.10 This Vestal is trying to plead the case to sympathetic listeners.  She tries to capitalize on her                      inviting gesture.  Her legs are so tightly crossed that she has to support her body with her left                  arm while making her silhouette appear more diminutive.

No.11 Pounding on the floor with clenched fist tells a story of frustration and hopelessness, as the                       Vestal learns of her fate, not by her own doings necessarily, but by association.

No.12 Whereas nothing bothers this happy soul.  Enjoy this moment while I can is her mantra.

No.13 This Vestal has not given up hope, even as she learns her fate.  With her flung back hair and                     raised chin, she is seen looking up and far away, perhaps visualizing a different outcome to her                 imminent demise.  There is a possibility the group can abscond in time to escape death.

No.14 This Vestal is seen watching No.7 with intense anticipation, clutching her cover.  Why does she               need a cover now; has she lost her innocence too?  Is that the reason why she is so concerned                   about whether the magical power of holding water with a sieve is still intact?  Is she also guilty               of breaking the vow of celibacy?  My first lesson in drawing at college was to draw a draped                   curtain.  I wish I had paid better attention and studied how to draw the pleats.

No.15 "What are you looking at?" as this Vestal confronts the accusers with flared arms resting on her               hips.  Or is that a gesture of denial?  Perhaps this is her way of dealing with adversity, especially             one brought on not by her own indiscretion.  

No.16 A desperate call for help, for sympathy, dragging herself across the floor with an arm outreached.             Or was she desperately trying to leave the group, thus avoiding condemnation?

The above is a synopsis of how I arrived at the painting, and my way of describing the gamut of emotions the 16 Vestal virgins display when facing the threat of death, because apparently one of them has irrefutable proof that she violated the agreement of being a Vestal virgin.  The spectrum of emotion spans from failure to comprehend, to denial, anger, bargaining, retreat and acceptance.  This project has given me ample opportunities to day dream and fantasize a bit.

The outreached hand

I am getting ready to install the final member of my cast of 16 vestal virgins.

I am fixated by the phrase "one of the sixteen vestal virgins who were leaving for the coast" and I have sort of developed a narrative for this painting that I am attempting, hoping to identify the reason why these vestals are leaving.  Therefore I need to instill some notion to signify that they are leaving.

I am assigning this role to this last member.  I am painting her propping her torso up with one arm and reaching out with the other.  I suppose one can interpret that as crying out for help, or she is in the act of crawling away and seeking consolation at the same time.

 

I am depicting her with her hair strewn down in front of her bare shoulders to add to that distressed, demented appearance.  I believe I have watched one too many horror psycho movies. 

The out screeched phalanges add drama and movement to the figure, and they are in direct contrast to the obscured fingers from the other hand.

I am quite enamored with the vibes emanating from the simple silhouette so I have decided to leave this vestal alone and not to adorn her with too many wavy lines. 

In my mind at least, this last member of the assembly gives some reference to the word "leaving".