The Art of Rejection

Having my works adjudicated for exhibitions is one way to find out if my works fit in or not.  There are only two possible outcomes; being accepted or being denied.  I am sharing one such thumbs-down experience here.  Isn't it fascinating that rejection is also an art form.  283 words were used to describe the two letter word "no".

Thank you so much for applying for inclusion in the upcoming exhibition.  I appreciate the time, thought, and energy you put into your work and your entry.

Unfortunately the above mentioned work was not selected at this time. Please be aware that the jury process is blind, meaning that images are reviewed and artist's names are not revealed until the process is complete (this method works best).

This years' call (after 8 tough rounds) is punctuated with an ethereal quality shrouded with elements of nature and the static interruptions of technology! Additionally, elements from all verum themes seem to have shown up and their arrival strikes a haunting reflective sense of the 'in-between'. Notes of the past and future collide through abstract expressions that balance the entirety with biomorphic interpretations that speak of worlds (known and unknown)!

As I am sure you are aware, in the jury process a grouping becomes relevant and works are selected for their intrinsic aesthetic value and appeal, but also (as importantly) for their relationship to the other chosen works (and the theme as a whole). It is a truly strange phenomenon, but I reject so many works that I admire (this happens because of my creative curatorial process where I elect to focus on a collective voice that emerges around the theme).

This jury process was particularly challenging (with so many visionary and skilled works submitted) and this rejection does not reflect the high quality, time, energy, and care of the work you submitted.

I am so appreciative that you gave me the chance to spend time considering your work for this exhibition. It was truly an honor (perhaps more so than ever before)!

with profound gratitude,

Hence the rhetorical question is: would you rather receive a simple one word "no" or a 283 words embellished "no"?  I must admit that I have problem understanding some of the terminologies and phrases used in this short essay. They pose a striking resemblance to wine tasting notes, which I also fail to understand by the way.  Allow me to indulge you in this exercise by substituting a couple of words from the original text:

This years' vintage is punctuated with an ethereal quality shrouded with elements of nature and the static interruptions of technology! Additionally, elements from all vines seem to have shown up. and their arrival strikes a haunting reflective sense of the 'in-between'. Notes of the past and future collide through abstract expressions that balance the entirety with biomorphic interpretations that speak of the palate!

Obviously I am out of my elements here.  

Wet mounting my painting

One of the complication for using alum solution extensively is that it makes the Xuan paper very brittle, as I come to find out.  I don't know if the culprit is the alum itself or the tiny bit of animal glue (suppose to work like a binder) that I mixed in with the alum.  In any case my Xuan paper is like the dried outside skin of an onion.  I inadvertently snag the edge of the paper on my felt under pad and the paper immediately rips.  

 

That means wet mounting is the only viable alternative to present this painting.  In the wet mounting process, the painting itself is thoroughly wetted down to relax the fibers, in this case, to soften the dried onion skin.  If I can be careful to align the torn edges and fit any detached pieces back into the proper position ( like a jig-saw puzzle ), I stand a pretty good chance of repairing the rip.  Obviously I must take extra caution when I apply the starch onto the back of the painting.

My wetted painting lies face down on a smooth surface and starch is applied onto the back with a stiff brush.  The brush looks extremely intimidating at first.  Surely it will tear the wet tissue like Xuan paper into pieces.  It is counter-intuitive, but the stiff brush actually helps to spread out any creases and expel air bubbles that are trapped under the wet Xuan.

A piece of blank Xuan which is larger than the painting is carefully placed over the painting which is wet with the mounting starch.  This is now covered with several layers of newspaper.

The newspapers help to absorb any excess water that seeps through the backing, and also shield the wet painting from the harsh pounding and brushing with a dry coconut fiber brush.  This process is very similar to a press which wrings out excess water and forces the backing paper to adhere firmly to the back of the painting.

The now moist newspapers are now peeled back, revealing a completely smooth and flat backing.

Starch is now applied to the edge of the border.  

The piece is now carefully lifted from the smooth surface onto a hard board for drying.  The lifting process turns the piece face up now, which is the way it sits on the hard board.

The drying process will shrink the paper a tiny bit, enough to pull it taut and flat.  Remember the starched shorts days?  You get the gist!!!  The dried piece can now be cut from the glued border and is  ready for framing.

Dragonflies

 

I pinned my algae pond painting on the wall and have been digesting it for a couple of weeks.

 

I know I did the painting out of a notion of trying to capture the algae infested pond in my backyard but I am also keen on playing with my alum solution and the gold speckled Xuan paper.

I know this exercise seems to have nothing to do with traditional Chinese brush but it is so liberating to be able to play and goof off like a rambunctious kid.  This painting somehow reminds me of Monet's water lilies pond.  Obviously I am not suggesting my painting here is eponymous with the great master's but I suppose I could sniff out a smidgen of that scent.

Whereas I don't have any water lilies in my pond, I do have ducks, frogs and heron.  I contemplated adding a heron to my painting but for some reason I think it might be trite.  Forget about the marquee actors.  Let me give some unknown performers a chance.

How about bees and butterflies and dragonflies.  When I think of painting insects, one painter comes readily to mind.   Chi Baishi is known for offering a platform for insignificant subjects like fish, cicada, shrimp, crab, mouse, dragonfly, moth etc.  His paintings on such topics are simple and honest and ground breaking.  Everybody else was painting the lotus flowers and peony.

I see dragonflies darting around my pond.  There are a few varieties of them, but the most prominent ones are the red ones and ones with a white body and black markings on their wings.  The black and white scheme make these dragonflies very noticeable and should stand out against my blue green background of my painting too.  I presume.  I shall paint them, they are my unknown performers.

 

I am posing this dragonfly with its body tilted upwards, revealing its underbelly.  I am going to situate this dragonfly resting on top of a twig sticking out of the water.  The straight up composition guides the viewer to or away from the painting.  It works both ways.

 

This dragonfly sits farther down the twig, showing its entire white body with wings spread.   This is the black and white effect I am looking for.

 

A dragonfly that is flying away reveals only the white abdomen.  Its wings crossed like a propeller due to the lighting conditions.  This dragonfly is made to be not entirely succinct to hint motion and also add depth to the perspective.  It is my hope that this dragonfly assumes a role of a supporting cast in the background.  It gives its presence without robbing the lime lights of the main characters.

I've painted in little blobs of algae that break off from the main patches.  I use yellow highlights and dark shadows to give them a three dimensional feel.  I treat them as if they are the fresh oregano leaves one sprinkles onto a dish when the food is presented.  They are there to decorate and to add flavor.  

 

 

This shows the composition of the 3 dragonflies.  The blobs of algae have not received their yellow highlights and shadows yet and look flat on the paper.  

  

I'm adding a fourth dragonfly to my painting.  This one is flying away from the others; its white body radiant in the sun and its wings just a blur.   I am giving this dragonfly the strongest white value despite the fact that it is apparently not the main character.  It is used to add motion; suggesting the insect is zipping around the pond and direct the viewer to imagine beyond the edges of the painting.  This is to contrast with the upward pointing dragonfly at the top of the painting.  I've also added a few specks of nondescript bright white objects around this particular dragonfly as a tease.  They could be anything, any floating debris.  I am using them like decoys to help guide the viewers to this particular dragonfly.  You may say that they are like the guiding elements on a UHF antenna.  I am hoping that the convergence and divergence of points of interest will help to add intrigue to my painting.

 

 

I am trying to avoid parallel lines, which is common in painting water, by painting an undulating, swirling  pattern with the help of algae.  I am hoping to avoid being stoic and create a sense of liveliness out of this dead body of water.

C'est la vie, it is up to us to find beauty and inspiration in something that is dull and mundane.  Whether the situation is an eyesore or poetic topic for a painting, it is our call.  

Algae in the pond

We've had a string of days that are warmer than usual.  It is the succession of days of 90 plus degrees that tires a person, especially when that person has to rely on natural convection cooling.  The fan does help to move the air and create some evaporative cooling from the moist skin, so it helps somewhat, psychologically at least.

When the rainy season stopped the pond behind my house ceased to enjoy the flow it normally gets from the creek that feeds it.  The water level has dropped a couple of feet behind the weir and the pond has become stagnant, overgrown with algae.  The homeowner's association has spent good money seeking supposedly professional advice, planting shrubs and tall grass next to the bank to ostensibly lower the water temperature and therefore slow down algae growth.  To no avail.... I could have told them that.  Then some homeowners do not like the raggedy look of the plants and trimmed them down, as if they are ornamental hedges.  One homeowner even resorted to putting algaecide into the water, which is a violation of environmental protection laws.  It is a contentious issue, to say the least.

For lack of better ways to spend a hot day, I've been looking at this body of pea soup through my blinds.  There are still ducks around, lazily paddling their feet in the summer heat, feeding occasionally under the water.   They carve out channels amongst the algae, like an icebreaker creating passages through the artic ice.  I suppose I am visualizing ice subconsciously to squelch this suffocating heat. 

Now these patches of algae are forming an interesting floating mosaic.  They look more yellowish than green.  The sun still glimmers off the water in dancing flashes despite the lack of any perceptible wind. The thickness of the day is breached only by the ducks quacking.  This looks like painting material.  

I am looking at this as a challenge to myself, like every painting that I've attempted.   I am going to attempt to put that suffocating feeling onto paper and I am going to try something new in the process.

Normally Xuan paper is not conducive to heavy staining or repeat brushstrokes.  Chinese brush painting hinges on the artist making the right brushstroke the first time.  Whatever comes out of the brush is indelible and seals the fate.  What I am internalizing is not something that is airy or elegant.  It is musty and dense and confused.  I have to attempt to lay down as many brushstrokes as possible without wearing down a hole in the paper.  I am not going to adhere to the usual Chinese Brush preferences.  I decide to use the gold speckled Xuan that was gifted to me.  This paper is more substantial than the standard Xuan.  

The random gold speckles elicit the feeling of the shimmering surface of the pond.  I hope to enhance the appearance of patches of reflected surface with the help of alum solution.  Alum as you recall is used for sizing Xuan paper.  It makes the paper less absorbent.  I use a spray bottle to spray some saturated alum solution on the paper and allow that to dry.  The hope is that these droplets will block subsequent coloration and give off a painted surface with random voids in it.

AS long as I am experimenting why don't I mix the blue color into my saturated alum solution.  Hopefully the spray will help form the foundation of the water.

I do the same with the green color, for my algae.

There is only one way to find out if my theory works or not, and that is by doing it and let the result speak for itself.  One can see clear borders around the droplets, especially the small ones.  The large drops are overwhelming their neighbors and obfuscate the clear border.  So I am on the right track.

It is time to write numerous brushstrokes, each emulating a minute part of the water surface.  The surface of the gold speckled Xuan has gone through three sprayings containing saturated alum solution, thus these brushstrokes stay wet longer without going into the paper fiber quite as fast.

In other words, these markings are less indelible and more forgiving.  The gold speckled paper behaves more like a watercolor paper than Xuan.  It allows the color to float a bit.  

I am using a yellowish green as highlights on my algae patches since that's the way I perceive them.  I just hope that the color is not too overwhelming. Yellow is such a tricky color.

This is what I get after all the dust has settled. I am now writing the report for my experiment.

The droplets of alum solution can be traced to all the round void spaces. I think they are nicely juxtaposed with the rest of the brushstrokes, showing off the reflected sky and the algae in the water.  The gold speckles are not obvious at all in the photography but they are more noticeable in person.  One has to view the painting at a certain angle to see the sparkle.

Dense and garbled.  The way I saw it.  

Framing my 16 Vestal Virgins

I received notice that my Whiter Shade of Pale painting has been adjudicated into an exhibition.  While I am elated about this opportunity I am also concerned that I must now find a proper way to display my painting, and to be able to do that before drop-off day. 

My painting of the 16 Vestal Virgins was done on gold speckled Xuan paper and I chose to wet mount it with a 4 in wide white speckled Xuan border.  I was trying to emulate the classical mounted scroll appearance.  I had stored the painting rolled up in a mailer tube since completion of the work.  The gist of the matter is that I simply can't house all my paintings in a frame; I would simply run out of storage.  Having the painting mounted on paper precludes me from displaying the work as a Sulio Xuan Ban float, or a canvas mount.  The only option left is to present it in a conventional picture frame. 

My mounted painting with borders measures 26in x 46 in and there just aren't any ready made picture frames for that size.  I was able to find a cheap custom made frame shop online that would sell a frame with backing and 060 plexiglass for around $75.  Unfortunately I will need to pay a shipping cost of $50.  Ouch!

My only option left is to make my own picture frame.  I prefer to use 1x2 in. pine stock over my usual poplar for my frame.  I think the natural color of pine will be a perfect match for my gold speckled paper and pine is quite a bit cheaper than poplar.  

I am using my dado blades instead of a router to cut a shoulder into my 1x2 stock.  Using a router would have required securing the skinny 1x2 stock before running the router bit over it whereas I already have a table saw and it is just a matter of changing out the saw blade and run the 1x2 stock through.  A much easier and safer proposition.

Cutting a shoulder into the 1x2 stock

The shaped 1x2 stock is then cut to size, sanded down and glued and finished in clear urethane.  I am not using any stains on the pine stock since I want the natural wood color to match my painting.  I apply several coats of the clear urethane, with steel wool polishing between the coats.

You recall my painting has a 26 in. measurement on one side, yet a standard piece of board for backing comes in at 24 in x 48 in.  That means I am 2 inches shy unless I spring for the next size up, which is 48 in x 96 in.  After some consideration, I trim off one inch of my white speckled border on all 4 sides and that reduced the measurement to 24 in in width.  That means I can now use the standard 24 in x 48 in board for backing.  I am left with a 3 in border, which still looks good on the painting.  I purchase my cut-to-size plexiglass for the cover glass from a local plastic shop.

My frame measures 44 in x 25in. and I am concerned that the pine is a little too flexible for the 44 inch span.  My fear is that people would pick up the painting by the long side of the frame and cause the wood to bow.  I therefore cut and screwed in an anchoring support post in the middle of the frame to help stabilize the frame.  The frame is rock solid now with that bracing. 

I use D-rings for anchoring my picture wire and the cut ends of the multi-strand wire is wrapped in heat-shrink tubing.  I've poked myself and drew blood on the loose strands of a hanging wire thus I am extending the courtesy of shielding other handlers from potential mishap.

Here is the new home for my 16 Vestal Virgins.  I am right about the natural pine being a good match for the paper.  I am happy to say their new home only costs me $50, instead of the the $125 if I had bought it on mail order.  This is not only more economical, but is made with love and looks great.

I am actually doing this as a journal for myself to read in a future date.  I often am amused by how I invite problems by not recognizing them to begin with, and the process and remedies I take to mitigate the road blocks.  

As I look at this finished product, a final step so to speak, a strange emotion overcomes me.  I had stored the painting rolled up in a mailer tube, little thought was given to how to frame it to begin with, if at all.  My thought process just don't extrapolate that far ahead.  Or is it not counting chickens before the eggs are hatched?  Anyways the emotions I am feeling is like my son has surreptitiously grown up and out of the blues he is ready for his first prom night.  He is asking to borrow my tie and my dress shoes because all he has are sneakers.  Thus I am fidgeting with his attire, polishing the shoes for him, taking pictures and beaming with smiles, as a proud father should be.  Making sure that he is presentable to his date, his schoolmates, and the world.  I am so happy that he is growing up, but secretly feeling sentimental that my days of being an empty-nester won't be too far off.  So as the painting that I had spent so much time on, the painting that I have grown attached to, is getting all dolled up, I must however, need to acknowledge the fact that there's a possibility that we might be parting ways?

Born Free

My latest landscape painting with the Central Oregon theme has gone through a few tiny revisions here and there and I am resigned to accept it as being done.  I've been ruminating on how to mount this painting, if at all.  I am trying to not mount or frame every piece that I have completed ( the ones that speak to me anyways ) because I don't want to be hoarding all these pieces, collecting dust.  Anyways this is one of those works that pulls me to the wall now and then and I feel like that it deserves a stage.

My last landscape painting, Chibi Nostalgia is mounted on canvas; the method I coined Xuan-Boo (Xuan paper on cloth).  I like its presentation so much that I am going to make a companion for it.  It just happens that both paintings share the same 1:2 aspect ratios.  A lot of Xuan paper come in that native ratio, i.e. a 4 foot long piece would have a 2 foot width.  My Chibi measures 18 in x 36 in and this new piece is a little junior to that, at 15 in x 30 in.  I fashioned my canvas using a piece of canvas drop cloth wrapped around a wood frame and covered with gesso. 

Starch is used for the wet mounting process.

The over-hang margin is tucked under the wooden frame and secured with starch. The over-hang conceals the bare canvas, and gives the piece a more "finished" appearance. 

A dry broad stiff brush is used to pound on the surface, under the protection of a couple sheets of  newspaper.  This pounding process is my poor-man's press; it helps to form a good seal between the Xuan paper and the canvas.  The newspaper also helps to wick up excess moisture and helps with the drying process. 

The freshly pounded painting is left in a cool corner to dry.  A slow drying process is preferred, as it ensures even drying and thus tightening of the paper.  Quick, uneven drying can lead to warping of the frame with this mounting method.

The wet Xuan paper is extremely fragile and delicate at this stage, and any rough handling or even thumbing on the painting could cause a tear.  I have many procreative expletives for those occasions.  I learn my lesson the hard way.

The mounting is totally dried after a day and one can handle it with relative ease now.

I apply a coat of Liquitex gloss medium and varnish onto my finished mounting.  The medium helps to restore the "wet" look of the painting, as if the Xuan paper was still wet.  I can also look forward to it forming a physical protective film over my painting, defending an occasional errant fingerprint. 

I know it is rather difficult to discern the difference between the coated and the un-coated pieces from these photos, especially after they've been transferred and uploaded and are subjected to web constraints.  Hopefully one can see the bottom version ( coated ) looks richer, more vivid and reveals more detail about the brushstrokes.  It has more depth. 

Many will argue that this coating process destroys the "paper" ambience, especially when it relates to paintings done on Xuan.  The coating renders the painting more like an oil painting than a painting done on traditional Xuan, especially when I mount it on canvas instead of a scroll.  I know and I don't disagree.  God knows I've received tons of flak for my practice.  The trouble is, I do enjoy this variant and I think some of my paintings benefit from this presentation. I try to employ this method judiciously. 

Painted 1x3 boards are used for the frame.  A dado blade carves out a narrow channel around the inside edge, framing my canvas mounted painting and wearing a more polished look. 

I name this piece Born Free because of the 14 horses; being somewhat obscure notwithstanding.  

Adding Human Interest

 I am staring into the finished colored version of my most recent landscape painting and am at a lost to find a connection with the painting.  Perhaps I've been doing a number of similar paintings lately and the subject matter has become trifle trite?  Perhaps I've become a little habitual in my presentation.

Time to call in the cavalry for the rescue, sans the soldiers.  I am hoping that the presence of horses might add some human interest to the landscape, which  helps to connect with the viewer, me.  

I am blending in the horses with the background to make them look less obtrusive, but using dabs of titanium white as reflected highlights to make the animals stand out.  Now that sounds like an oxymoron.  I am also adding in wilted trees to augment the landscape.  After all this is the landscape of the west shown in cowboy movies, I surmise.  

I am really going to town with the highlighted effect so I am painting all my horses with that kind of illumination.  For the horses in the front row, I am actually painting the silhouette with white first and then come back to fill in with other pigments, leaving a sheath of white to achieve the back-lit effect.  

I am trying to break up the even spacing of the animals by adding a black one in the back and using dead tree trunks to further disrupt the perceived uniformity in spacing.

I am making the eroded, gouged faces of the landscape more prominent, to better illustrate the truncated part where the river cuts through.

I suppose my painting now is more animated, figuratively and literally.