Rusalka, cont'd

I have Rusalka in the water, across from a classical pavilion, under the moon on my fibrous Xuan.  I should be ready to just paint in the night sky and the water and I shall have my Rusalka painting.

Easy enough.

I like the color indigo.  It is deep and mysterious; perfect for my moon lit sky and water.  As I am rummaging through my bin of half used tubes of colors for the indigo label, I am realizing that the painting will be too sparse and crude and might be lacking in emotional content.  I mean I don't have the skills that is necessary to transform  a vast void of sky and water to support my story of the water nymph Rusalka longing for her love.  I desperately need supporting casts to help me stage my painting.

Song to the Moon (google translation):

Moon in the sky deep  I see your light far away.

You wander through the world, Divas in the abode people.

Moon, wait a moment, tell me where my loved ones are.

Tell him, let's hug the moon, that he will hug me on his shoulder, so tha at least for a moment he remembers me in his dreams.

Light him far away, tell him, tell him who's waiting here!  

The human soul dreams of me, let's wake up with that memory!

Moon, don't go out, don't go out!

As I am listening to the soprano detailing the most intimate thoughts of Rusalka, I am led to a more private setting for Rusalka to muse her thoughts.  I need to place Rusalka in a smaller space by framing my painting with incidentals like vegetation.  I shall exaggerate the light reflection from the pavilion and buildings to further close off the space on the right side of the paper.  I shall make the reflections in the water around Rusalka more pronounced, not only to make a better connection with the moon but also to take up more real estate on the water.

I am placing bamboo on the left of the painting.  That gives me a chance to practice my bamboo leaves again.

To the right of the painting, behind the architectural artifacts I am painting in a bamboo grove to tie in with the bamboo on the left.  The brushstrokes are loose and impressionistic and should blend in well with the night sky.  That's the plan anyways.

Dabs of ink form additional objects in the background.

I am now painting in the water with indigo, being careful to leave voids, simulating shiny reflections the water.

I am taking this moment to go over the face of Rusalka, now that I have a background to play off with.

I am portraying Rusalka with half-opened eyes.  I like to think that this is more pensive than a fully closed or open eye.  I am also playing up the light values on her cheeks and her moon lit forehead.

True to my obsession with the sternocleidomastoid muscle, I am making them really dramatic, accompanied by a long neck and dimples from the clavicles.  I just find them very appealing and sexy.

This is what I have so far.  I am going to let the painting dry and reevaluate.  

What jumps out right away is that I need to increase the saturation of the water and sky.

Rusalka

I mentioned that I was listening to" Song To the Moon" from Rusalka when I was painting my rabbits on the moon for our Lunar New Year and somehow I have not been able to clear that image from my thoughts. 

Rusalka as I understand is a character in Slavic folklore and though it has many variations it nonetheless seem to involve spirits of the female gender and it lives in a body of water luring or haunting men, depending on how you look at it.  I suppose it is haunting if the woman died in tragedy and her spirit has not seen salvation or her death has not been avenged.

The Rusalka I referred to in my blog is the protagonist in an opera written by Antonin Dvorak.  The work tells the story about a water nymph Rusalka who falls in love with a mortal prince and bargains with a witch to turn her into a human to accommodate the potential relationship.  The price she pays is that she would be turned into a mute and become a mortal and the prince will die if he does not love Rusalka, who will in turn be damned eternally.  As with all great love stories, tragedy is the only viable conclusion.  Nobody wins in the end, the prince dies and Rusalka is damned.  It makes the song even more haunting.  The libretto of this opera has Rusalka professing her love for the prince to the moon in the opening act and asking the moon to help convey her love.

As I am writing this down, I am reminded of other friendships between the mortals and the immortals that are prevalent in other cultures.  Obviously everyone is familiar with the "Mermaid".

In Chinese culture I can think of at least two very popular folklores that pertain to such a union.  The story of "Goddess Marriage" or "Fairy Couple" (天仙配) is about the marriage of the 7th daughter of the Heavenly Emperor to a mortal who exhibited qualities of scholarship and filial duty.  The interesting thing about this folklore is that it has several different versions, and not all endings are tragic.

In "Legends of the White Snake" (白蛇傳) a folklore that tells the story of how a white python was able to be transformed into a beautiful lady, thus deemed an "unclean spirit" by priests.  The white python marries a mortal and a priest is determined to "exorcise" this mortal's wife, breaking up the union.  This folklore has something similar to Rusalka, in that the relationship between the mortal and immortal is brokered or intervened by a witch, or a priest.  Whilst the story of Rusalka ends in sadness the story of "Legends of the White Snake" has a happy ending.  Perhaps it is a statement that true love gets rewarded and humanity embraces even "unclean spirits".

Enough of a segue, time to paint my thoughts on paper.

My Rusalka is a lady poking her head out of water in a moon lit night, having a pensive moment with the the moon in the backdrop.  Needless to say, this renowned soprano aria "Song to the moon" is playing in the background.  My painting of "Whiter Shade of Pale" introduced me to painting of human forms.  Through those months of paying closer attention to the human body, I have a deeper appreciation of why Da Vinci studied human anatomy.  For me, I find the human neck to be an object of fascination.  I particularly enjoy how the sternocleidomastoid muscle (the 2 big muscles at the sides of our neck) in the neck twists and turns with the head, sometimes highly visible, and other times disappears beneath the skin.  I also enjoy its relationship with the clavicle, and how the depression at the bottom of the neck ebbs and flows with our posture.  A big lovely dimple.

Thus I shall attempt to showcase the neck of my water nymph. Try anyways.

A study drawing

I am using a very fibrous heavy Xuan.  I like the fact that this paper allows the color to float and disperse on it momentarily before fully soaking it in.  Hopefully it will help embody the ambience of a night scene with less than well defined lines; with the visible fibers strands adding to the ambiguity.

I am making a very pronounced presence of the sternocleidomastoid muscle through shading.  I am not too worried about the correct color of the face at this point.  My plan is to correct everything towards the end of the painting and I trust the paper I am using will allow me to make these alterations without ill effects.  

Before I continue on with the rest of my nymph, I am blocking out the ripples in the water by using the alum solution.  I am doing this so that when I paint in the hair and her clothing, I can somehow convey that they are submerged.

I also assign a position for my moon.  After all, this is a painting about Rusalka's song to the moon.  

To set the framework that Rusalka is in the water, contemplating the possibility that she might be residing on land as a mortal,  I am assigning that reference to some classical Chinese architecture.  

Eventually all these incidentals will be swallowed up by the dark night, hopefully.  I am therefore not too concerned about accuracy. I am augmenting the night scene with a few moon lit tree trunks in white.  I am hoping the lights in the buildings will eventually contrast with the dark night sky and make the painting interesting.  I suppose I just want a presence more than anything else.  My goal now is to plot my settings, create a mood and see if things work out or not.

The far shore of the water is painted in

So now I have the nymph, the worldly reference, and the moon.  Next chore is make the night fall!

Mounting my "mosaic" project

My mosaic painting of ducks in a pond is disintegrating just from laying around.  Every time I walk past the painting a little draft follows me, enough to partly lift the painting ever so slightly since it is so light.  The repeated lifting causes more cracking and subsequent cutting loose of small pieces of my painting.  Like shards of glass.

The only remedial step for alleviating the continued deterioration is to mount it.  Dry mounting would be out of the question.  My painting would not be able to withstand any ironing at all.  Traditional wet mounting is the only way out.  

The painting is laid face down on my slab of mounting plastic and copious amount of water is dumped on it to ensure proper soaking, rendering the fibers in the paper less brittle.  My painting wears a dried prune appearance now from all the air pockets.

Normally I would apply and spread my starch solution right away with my stiff brush.  The stiff bristles would push out the air pockets and flatten any creases but I think that brush is too harsh in this instance.

I am resorting to a soft brush to try to smooth out all the air pockets before I even apply the starch.  The stiff brush is left on the sideline; watching. 

More water is sprayed onto the painting to facilitate the smoothing process.  Anybody who has applied window tinting sheets onto a glass pane will understand what I am doing.  The only difference is instead of using a piece of hard plastic with a flat edge for pressing, I am using a soft brush.  The water makes the paper float a bit and it serves as a lubricant and also a sealant to prevent air from re-entering.  

After about 20 minutes of careful brushing and re-wetting with water, all the air pockets are gone.  I have a flat piece of painting that I can apply starch now.  Patience is a virtue. 

The starch application invariably causes the frayed edges of the damaged painting to double up and fold upon itself.  This is not the time to panic.  Instead of using a hard tool like forceps to unfold the tucked in edges, I use a clean brush to unfurl and reposition the frayed edges.

The painting is now ready for starching and backing and mounting.  The mounted piece is glued to a hard surface to dry.  The drying process will make the painting taut and the starch will add stiffness to the paper.

The mounted "mosaic" painting is now next to the painting that inspired it.  I suppose the gaping hole can pass as a void space in the painting, by design, right?

I can honestly say that I've accomplished my resolution for this new year and I am happy about it. I am happy that I am giving Gongbi style technique an honest try, albeit not in the traditional sense.  I am not painting peony, blue bird or lotus flowers, the usual thematic matters.  I am painting water.  However I certainly learned a lot in the process.  I am hoping readers of this blog can learn from my mistakes and methods to mitigate them.  Let's face it, this is still rather esoteric.  I'll chalk this up as a successful experiment, especially when comparing the two paintings side by side.  

Not tedious anymore.

Happy April Fools' Day! 

Waste Basket Diving

If I throw away my booboos before the painting is completed then I am really not honest with myself.  I am an amateur trying to explore the many intricacies of Chinese brush painting and I must capitalize on the opportunity to learn from my mistakes.  To assume that every piece I attempted is worthy of the wall  is a unrealistic fantasy.

I caused big holes to appear in my attempt to paint my "mosaic" piece.  I tried to avoid the mistake of rendering the paper too brittle by the use of alum solution yet I failed.  I think my mistakes could be attributed to the thinness of the paper and my stupid idea of ironing the paper.  Could I be using the wrong alum solution mixture?  I am told the ratio of gum to alum should be 2 to 1.  I seem to recall that my solution has more alum than gum.  I used animal skin gum by the way.  I've been using that on my double Xuan and so far I have not been penalized for using too much alum.  My frayed edges from the gold speckled paper was my first mishap and the first hint of any bad side-effects from my solution. I am convinced now that the more robust double Xuan saved my skin in the past.  

So instead of trashing my "mosaic" piece due to the holes, I am going to continue my project.  

I proceed to make the darker areas much darker than before, to contrast with the lighter areas.

Now I need to work on the ducks, to make them more appealing?  I also need to go over my many wriggly pieces that depict the shimmering water.  The Number 3 Blue Hue (176) is my first target.

I then work on other colors.

Since I do have a fair amount of void space to begin with, the holes caused by the ironing mishap actually could pass under the radar.

I suppose I shall find out more about the appeal of these holes after the painting is mounted.  

I am just glad that I have fulfilled my New Year's resolution at least, by initiating and not giving up on  a tedious project.

Paint for the waste basket

It's time to put my game on, tackling my mosaic project.  I really can't let a 9 nine old show me up, can I?

I am using a semi-sized Xuan because it is thin enough to facilitate the copying process.  I will need to trace my stencil with a brush only this piece of paper.  I suppose I can trace it out with pencil first to get all the pieces and then cover up the pencil lines with ink brush once the painting is done, but I don't have the patience for it.  The bottom line is I hate to do the same thing twice; tracing my stencil is already a chore for me.

I already do not like what I've done so far.  I suppose I am treating this initial step rather lackadaisically, I am using left over ink/color to do the tracing.  The outlines are of different colors and darkness.  I have not forgotten the proposed silver color for water from the 9 year old kid.

I have this image of a pond with an subdued ambience, interrupted only by flashes of reflected light.  I am going to color in my two ducks first.  I also pick out a few spots to apply the same color as the ducks.  There really are no rules, just a notion.  Perhaps use silver as my flashes of reflected light?  But I don't have any silver color or paint.

Using the same logic, I pick out other pieces of my "mosaic' and address them with different colors.

I am assigning a deeper, darker color to the right half of my composite.

And a lighter color to the rest of the painting.  I suppose I've decided silver is not feasible for my set-up. 

What is glaringly apparent now, aside from the fact that there is not enough tonal difference between the darker and lighter tones, is that the colors are extremely blotchy.  This is beyond any doubt a failure.

I mentioned in my previous writing that I wanted to do this painting using the Gongbi techniques.  One of the hallmark of a Gongbi painting is that alum solution is used to size the paper so that the color flows and mixes freely, without being streaky.  I was assuming that my semi-sized paper would have cut my some slack and present me with a more uniform color field.  This is not the time to see brushstrokes.

I suppose I am doubly disappointed by the fact that this is not my first rodeo with semi-sized Xuan.  I should have know better to pretreat the paper with alum solution so that streaks would be minimized.

My electing to not apply the alum solution first is not entirely baseless.  I recall vividly how the paper of  my summer pond painting became so brittle that I cracked the edge of the paper like an egg shell with barely a nudge from my brush.  That paper was the gold specked Xuan, which is a heavier paper than this translucent semi-sized Xuan.

Hence my hesitation.

There is this saying in doing Gongbi painting, "3 applications of alum and 9 applications of color".  Watercolor gets muddled under repeated applications.  The alum solution is applied in between the repeated coloring process to seal in the original layers and prevent mixing, thus keeping the the palate clean.  The transparent watercolor allows the bottom layers to come through, achieving a visual mixing of colors rather than a physical mishmash.  This "shielding" is sometimes achieved by coloring on the back of the paper, allowing the translucent Xuan to act as a barrier that mitigates mixing of colors. 

Well it is not too late to treat my entire painting with alum solution now.  New color, or tones can be applied over the dried alum treated paper and if done right, should be devoid of streaking. 

I am going over the lighter tone of green again after the alum solution is dried.  The blotches are mostly gone.  What the picture shows actually is just lighting artifacts resulting from a non-flat paper surface.

It is interesting though that the brownish hue is gone, replaced by a greyish green and I am using the original wash.  The two tones of green are even more similar now.  I need to make my dark green areas much darker in order to achieve the separation.

Before I attempt my darker green, I am reminded of the repeated washing of color resulting in the undulating surface of my Xuan.  I am going to iron my paper to get a flat paper surface.  This should help to minimize the pooling of the watercolor at the low points.

Guess what, the paper is too crispy (from the alum solution) to withstand the ironing.  Part of the painting ended up on the bottom of my iron.  There is now a gaping hole in my painting.

The funny thing is, I am not mad at all; just astonished.  I'm astonished that the paper becomes so brittle even after one application of the alum solution.  I suppose I shall be keeping a mental note about this for a long time now, especially when using the thin semi-sized Xuan.  Keep my iron locked up!

I've been told many times that one should proceed to paint with the attitude that one is doing it for the wastebasket.  This is one way to alleviate the pressure that one puts on oneself.  There is nothing to lose!

I believe I am literally doing a painting for the wastebasket.

Inauragation of my Tedious Project

I am going to make the most out of my "stencil" from my so called tedious project.  I feel that I should be able to recoup the time and effort I invested in developing that stencil and frankly I want to see how many variations I can make out of my mosaic plot map.  I took a picture of my mosaic outlines so that I could print off copies of it when I feel the urge to play.   Obviously I could also do it the traditional hard way, by laboriously copying it onto another piece of Xuan paper using ink and brush.  If I do that, I would be able to retain the original dimensions, which is approximately 13 inch by 26 inch.

Andrew is a 9 year old 4th grader who likes to draw.  One of his work enjoys the accolade of being selected for display at the administration office of his school district.  

Why don't I print off a copy of my "tedious project" mosaic and let him have a go at it.  I am curious to see the result!

I really do not want to stymie Andrew's imagination so the only information he receives is that the lines represent 2 ducks swimming in a pond and there are ripples and reflection of trees and shrubs in the water.  He is encouraged to do whatever he sees fit with the print out.  There are no rules.

I am impressed with Andrew's dedication in attempting this drawing.  How often does one see a 9 year old sitting by a table and just draw?  I ask him to take small breaks and walk away from the table and try to form some idea about his drawing from a distance.

After one such small break, Andrew decides to add a duck to the drawing.  He paints in a third duck and ripples.

I must say, I am impressed.  It is also interesting to see that he is portraying webfeet on his duck.

Andrew comments that he likes the looks of certain colors sitting side by side; in particular the orange and the blue.  So I googled the topic of complementary color and showed him the color wheel.  He seemed to be impressed by that and all he talks about now is complementary color.  I certainly did not expect that.  Never underestimate a 9 year old!

Two hours has elapsed and this is the result.  I am told that he plans to finish the water with a silver color.

Starting a tedious project

A painting at an art exhibition spoke to me.  I really don't know how to describe the painting because I am not familiar with the various styles of western art.  Labels like pop art or art deco are all Greek to me, or is is it French?  The painting that spoke to me reminds me of Andy Warhol's silk screen.  I guess what caught my fancy is the challenge ( or ability ) to define different areas of the painting with very specific color and the lack of a gradient within that particular space.  To me it is like re-defining my concept of a pixel.  Here my pixel could be a line, an entire square or whatever shape.  Actually I think I am making things more complicated than they really are; what I am really trying to do is to create a mosaic.  In my mosaic, all the "tiles" are painted on paper and each "tile" can assume a specific color, and one color only.

If I am going to construct a mosaic painting, my usual Xieyi style brushstrokes would be useless here.  I think a Gongbi style approach might work.  Generally speaking Xieyi brushstrokes rely on broad brushstrokes to give shape ( as compared to filling in with color to render shape ) Gongbi style painting requires outlining everything in the painting and then filling in with color.  It is way more meticulous and rarely spontaneous.  There is always careful staging and posing for Gongbi style painting.  Hence I believe my mosaic demands Gongbi.  

Gongbi painting is always done on sized Xuan paper.  Alum is used as the sizing agent.  The paper is less absorbent after sizing and allows the color to flow more freely.  Xuan paper that is not sized would absorb ink and color instantaneously and whatever mark one makes is indelible.  With sized Xuan there is some room for negotiation and the painting techniques are vastly different. 

The typical brush used for writing the outlines has a long and slender brush profile.  The long hair makes the brush less susceptible to force exerted by the wrist and therefore writing a uniform line with it is easier; in theory that is.  An ordinary brush has a much bigger belly and any variations in applied pressure results in brushstrokes of varying width, anywhere from a fine taper to a broad streak.  Hence the basis of our brush calligraphy.

An expert Gongbi artist shows the craft by presenting flowing lines of uniform width and intensity with no hiccups or kinks at all.  The attached photo is an example of bad Gongbi skills.  The lines are not uniform at all and they are rough and not pleasing to look at.  The student would get a fail grade.

Thus the first step of creating a Gongbi style painting is to create a workable outline drawing.  This is when the artist stages and poses whatever subject matters into the painting.  I suppose one can look at that as a stencil, upon which a piece of translucent sized Xuan or silk from art supply stores is placed, and the artist can now trace the stencil with that long slender line brush.  Typically Gongbi students always copy the stencils provided by their teachers. 

The painting I have in mind to paint is this fashion is the same one I did recently; the colorful one with the ducks in a pond.

Since I have to work out the stencil myself, I would cheat by basing it on a painting that is mine and is already in existence.  I just have this obsession about all the different reflections in my pond painting and I think these reflections are interesting mosaic material.  As I delve into my thought process and mental preparation I realize that each of these shimmers and wiggly lines could be a piece of the mosaic tile and therefore I would be dealing with formulating hundreds of tiny pieces.  A most daunting task.  

Since I haven't made any New Year's resolutions yet, I shall resolute to attempt this seemingly tedious project.  I think the challenge that this could be laborious motivates me.  I am reminded of these paint-by-numbers coloring books that are sold in craft stores.  The ones that are for kids 12 years and older can be very complicated, with lots of numbers to sort out and paint in.  Often times one does not know what one is painting without first looking at the key and the finished picture to get a sense.

I am taking my time but keep a steady foot on the gas pedal and begin in earnest to plot my stencil of outlines.  For my stencil I am using a brush pen.  It is much easier to handle, especially for the purpose of making dark lines quickly and succinctly.  

It is hypnotizing to figure out all these "tiles" and frankly this is not as bad as I thought it would be. Perhaps it is my OCD, I frankly do not sense the passage of time.  Whenever I want to take a break, I keep thinking of the next wiggle, the next "tile".  Just one more, I told myself.  Obviously having my original painting as a "stencil" to work from helps immensely.  I just hope that I can make sense of all these lines, all these little enclosures.  I can always refer back to my original painting if I am lost, as I reassure myself.  It is also surreptitiously comforting to know, perhaps, that by having this "stencil", I could do an iteration of my ducks in a pond.  That hasn't crossed my mind before until now.