I haven’t quite finished the socks, but thought I would create a rough pattern for those who might like to have it. It is just too hot to knit wool socks, and as it is also summer, the urge to be outdoors and wandering around is far more attractive than sitting still.
I think that, overall, the socks are rather pretty. Will I become a toe-up convert? Not sure.
Given that, you may find it in the Patterns section of this blog! Or, just click here.
I have a fairly decent knowledge of different time periods in western art history, and some familiarity with many forms in which it is produced. I’ve worked with oils, acrylics, watercolors, done etching, stone lithography, and other forms of printmaking. Being familiar with techniques gives an appreciation of the process the artist goes through to create a work. I’ve also studied art history a bit, and know what occurred in what time and place, understand the evolution of styles, and can recognize a fair number of renown western artists.
Studying Chinese painting is very different because there is not the cultural context of brush and ink, nor a sense of the symbology of many of the subjects. To the western eye, it has been written, much of the painting and ink art of Asia is not understood. I’m inclined to agree, because although I love the elegance and simplicity of sumi ink painting, my cultural background and training can make the art of Japan and China at times difficult to appreciate.
The Weng Collection – “Treasures Through Six Generations – at the Huntington Library in San Marino, California, was eye-opening. Spanning about 900 years in time, from the 1200s to present day, calligraphy and paintings, large (a 53′ scroll) and small, filled a couple of rooms. There wasn’t so much that it was overwhelming, but enough to appreciate a sense of time and history in Chinese painting. It was through this continuum of paintings that I got a sense of history and development, as well as an appreciation for the symbolism, the individuality expressed within traditional subject matter, and, I think, a sense of Chinese cultural time. I was able to look at a painting and recognize how it was done – the movement of brush and ink, the addition of color. Brushwork and style was recognizable, as both fine line and more spontaneous styles were shown. The calligraphy was beautiful, ranging from “letters home” to loved ones, to a large, magnificant scroll of “hu” – tiger.
Newly completed in 2008, the Garden of Flowing Fragrance is nearby the exhibit. After leaving the exhibit, we wandered down the hill, and into a grove of pine trees – so like the ones depicted in the scrolls in the exhibit, and so like the ones shown as samples in The Mustard Seed Garden Manual of Painting. From there, a setting of young black bamboo.
The grove leads to the ponds and streams which have numerous koi, trees (willows and native oak), pavilions, and bridges. The eye is led here and there. Details small and large wait to be noticed. Architecture, plants, and water create a living handscroll.
The Weng Collection, the Chinese garden, The Mustard Seed Garden Manual of Painting, and my monthly Chinese painting class have conjoined into a single experience. Somehow, I understand the history of Chinese painting better – nearly a millenia of tradition has been seen (and who has touched these paintings? who made them? who unrolled them in lantern light to enjoy them?) – a garden of trees and flowers, an earthly aesthetic – a “how to” book that is about 500 years old, and still being printed – and finally, doing the brushwork myself, as generations have before.
The catalog which accompanies this exhibit is well worth the 25.00 price – I know I will continue to enjoy this exhibit long after it leaves the Huntington. It gives the history of the collection, and detailed information about the work displayed. These pictures will give a sense of the contents.
If you ever have the opportunity to see this exhibit, go! And if you are in the Los Angeles area, visit the Huntington Library. The grounds are incredible. The gardens are beautifully laid out, one leading to another. We went on a Friday, had a picnic on the lawn (you cannot bring food into the gardens), and wandered through galleries, gardens, and had a peaceful time. In four hours we could not see enough. We shall return!
I have a small collection of inkstones / suzuri. A few I have paid a lot for (for me), and others have been incredibly inexpensive. Some are really poor as far as usefulness, some mediocre, and some surprisingly good for the small amount they cost. Several years ago I bought an excellent stone for $5.00 in an artist supply store. It is a real stone suzuri. Another one I bought a few years ago is not an outstanding stone, but a bit of work made it into a very usable stone. That is the subject of today’s entry.
The Phoenix Stone
I bought this stone on eBay about three years ago, paying about $15.00 for a stone which was never used. The gal I bought it from got it in Hong Kong about twenty years earlier, as a memento of her trip. That said, I wasn’t too sure about it, but liked the carving on it and bought it anyway. It must be understood that many inkstones are made for the tourist industry, are not usable, and most will not be worth more than use as a paper weight or other decorative item. This stone measures 5.25 x 8 inches (13.5 x 20 cm).
This stone is actually pretty good – much better than I expected. When it arrived, there was some sort of coating on it, which did not work at all well with hand grinding an inkstick. I decided to re-read some directions I got awhile back about how to make a stone usable – if it could be made usable at all. The goal was to remove the coating, try the stone, and then finish the stone’s grinding surface if necessary.
Buying a New Stone
When buying a stone to use, the first thing to look for in a stone is whether or not there is a slight glint, or sparkle, in the sun. Tilt the stone this way and that. What is needed is a bit of sparkle, and hopefully that sparkle is copper pyrite, which, according to my source in Japan, is necessary for good ink stick-ink stone connection. This stone has that glint.
Preparing to Refinish / Polish a New Inkstone or Suzuri
To refinish a suzuri is not difficult, though it might be rather scary if you like the stone. This inkstone was unused, so this description is for a new stone that does not seem optimal.
Because this stone was not dirty, with old ink stuck to it, I simply washed it soap and water, using Dawn dish detergent as it is good at cutting grease. I let it soak a bit in hot water, soapy water, and then used a 3M brand green scrubber on it. I did not apply a lot of pressure to the surface, but used just a gentle swirling motion. Once washed, I rinsed it, and let it dry a day before grinding sumi. The resulting ink was okay, but not particularly fine. The surface of the stone felt rather rough, so I decided to sand it down.
Polishing the Inkstone / Suzuri
Sandpaper is not to be used on an inkstone, but fine grit wet-dry paper is needed. This is usually a grey-colored paper, available in good hardware stores, and manufactured by 3M. It comes in varying grits, but to begin with, use nothing less than 600 or 800, and do the final polish with 1000-2000. What you choose to use will vary with the stone, and how much energy you want to put into it. I like a smoother finish, but with a coarse-grained stone will require a bit of gentle elbow grease. The paper shown is what I have used, and am pleased with the results.
Before you begin, run your fingertips over the surface of the stone. This way you will know what your stone feels like before beginning.
When I polish a stone, I go outside. With me comes a basin of water, the paper, the stone, an old bath towel, and table. Place the stone on the towel to protect the table, and to collect any dirty water from the sanding process. Put water on the stone’s surface, and using the coarser papers, begin rubbing the surface in light, circular movements. Don’t put a lot of pressure on the stone, but let the paper do its job. Proceed systematically over the entire surface. Rinse off the particles of stone and paper as needed in the basin of water as they accumulate, and continue. Test the surface of the stone with your fingertips – you should be able to feel the difference. Rinse off your stone, wash and rinse again, and let it dry.
Grind some ink, and notice the quality of the particles. Also notice the quality of your inkstick. If you have a poor inkstick it won’t produce particularly good ink – it will be coarse-grained, and take a long time to produce dark ink. There may be rough spots in it. These rough spots are impurities or contaminants, and can actually gouge your stone. Stop if you find something like this, pick it out, and try again. Remember – you can ruin a good stone with an inferior inkstick.
The key element is patience. Sand down the stone, wash and rinse it, let it dry. Run your fingers over the stone, checking for a smooth finish throughout the entire grinding surface. Try your ink. If you are content, stop. If you want a finer ink, continue using finer papers until you are pleased. Don’t try for a shiny, polished surface. There needs to be some “bite” on the surface for the inkstick so it may be ground into fine particles.
The Phoenix Arises!
I spent a few days polishing out this stone. I used several grits of paper on it before I was content. This stone produces a dark ink in a fairly short amount of time. The surface is flat, without puddling, and the well holds a nice amount of water. Because there is no slope on the stone, I use the water to dilute ink when painting. I add water from a suiteki or sucky-cup (plastic cup with a built-in straw, made by Rubbermaid) in small amounts as I grind ink. The large grinding surface makes for a relaxing “grind” – small surfaces make me tense up.
This stone has a rather greasy quality to it, which is why it is not one of my favorite stones. I expect it has something to do with the type of stone it is. Little spots of white appear on its surface for no known reason. Nonetheless, a stone which was not at all usable, in my opinion, has become functional, and under the right circumstances, pleasurable to use.
Well, my trip to the Huntington is canceled until tomorrow, the 5th. We forgot about the holiday! So, instead of gazing at artwork and gardens, I will be planting some herbs and ground cover this morning, and grilling a lamb shish kebab which has been marinating since last night.
Sentimental?
As life and times seem to get increasingly more complicated, I often wish for a life that is less so. I expect this is just a purely sentimental and unrealistic thought as I imagine about how uncomplicated life was out on the prairies in the late 1800s.
A couple of years ago, we drove from California to Wisconsin to visit family, taking a month to do it. We took the I-80 through the middle of the country, traveling through places like Nevada, Wyoming, Nebraska and into Illinois. I spent my childhood in rural Illinois, and having lived so long now in the dry climate of California, I forget the lushness and green-ness of trees and fields, as well as the humidity, of the midwest in summer. We came back along the I-90, and driving through Minnesota and South Dakota, I was pulled by the openess of the prairies.
Of course, life was not easy in the last part of the 1800s out on the prairies. The Little House series of books, by Laura Ingalls Wilder and her daughter Rose Wilder Lane, point this out. Still, life had a much slower pace. There weren’t cell phones, cars, computers. Certainly there were far less people per square mile. Too, women could not vote, diseases got you, and housework was a dreadful chore. Today, we have survived world wars, and are currently swimming along with increasing unemployment, lack of health insurance, and state and federal budgets that are scary for their deficits and overspending. Other parts of the world are overwhelmed by religious fanatics and political despots.
In the 1880s there were similar problems, affecting a smaller population, but still as devastating. Local problems did not have the global impact they have now. I rather like the idea of being less caught up in global problems, but I don’t know that I want to wash my clothes in the river or have to slaughter my own chickens, much less be caught up in the societal strictures of the times, like clothing. In 100 degree weather, corsets and long-sleeved dresses do not hold much appeal! At least today I can wear shorts! Yet the allure of a simpler life still holds.
Independence
In short, then, I really do wish I was not so dependent upon others, and less impacted by global events. Nonetheless, I love having a washing machine, a garbage disposal, indoor plumbing, antibiotics, and the internet.
Independence nowadays may mean taking risks to create your own life, and find a zone of quiet in all the ruckus of the world. This may be far more difficult than it was in the last part of the 19th century….
Tomorrow I will be heading down to the Huntington Library with a friend. This is a rather pleasant, serendipitous excursion because while in South Pasadena, at Gus’s, I saw a poster for this exhibit, Treasures through Six Generations: Chinese Painting and Calligraphy from the Weng Collection. In the back of my mind I thought it would be worthwhile seeing, but not sure if I could organize my life enough to get to it. The biggest intimidation factor is I just don’t like driving in L.A. traffic! I’ll be meeting up with my excursion buddy in the valley, and as I am driving the first half, chauffering will be provided the rest of the way.
The Weng Collection has an interesting history behind it. According to the press release of Feb.23, 2009 from Huntington:
The history of the Weng family and their art collection reads like an epic novel, mirroring the tumult of 19th- and 20th-century China and its ensuing diaspora. Assembled primarily in the second half of the 19th century, the collection is legendary not only for its superb selection—it contains masterpieces of brush and ink spanning 900 years—but also for the remarkable individuals who have been responsible for its formation and safe-keeping. The works of art have survived repeated dynastic changes, protracted warfare, and journeys across continents, remaining almost miraculously unscathed under the care of this family.
The Weng collection has been in the same family for six generations, beginning with Weng Xincun (1791–1862). Xincun’s son Weng Tonghe (1830–1904) and the collection’s current owner, Wan-go Weng (b. 1918), are particularly celebrated for their remarkable achievements.Weng Tonghe, the family patriarch who formed the nucleus of the collection,was a preeminent figure in late Qing China.He rose to prominence when he placed first in the 1856 metropolitan exams for the jinshi degree and became a zhuangyuan (“First Scholar of the Nation,” as Wan-go Weng likes to say). Weng went on to tutor two emperors, Tongzhi (r.1862–74) and Guangxu (r. 1875–1908). The latter studied with him for a total of 24 years and regarded him as his closest adviser. In addition, Weng also held some of the highest positions in the government. He is remembered in history as the leader of the pro-war faction during the Sino-Japanese war in 1894–1895 and, through his introduction of the radical reformer Kang Youwei (1858–1927) to Guangxu, for his early influence on the emperor’s Hundred Days’Reform in 1898.
Weng Tonghe’s collection was passed down to Wan-go Weng, who brought it to the United States in 1948. Wan-go Weng is himself a modern-day Renaissance man—filmmaker,poet, scholar and civic leader—whose English films and publications on Chinese history and art have been widely influential among both scholars and general readers. Under his leadership in the mid 1980s, the New York–based China Institute rebuilt its reputation as one of the leading centers for the promotion of Chinese culture in the United States . . . .
The gardens at the Huntington Library are renown. There are themed gardens, such as a Chinese one which is a perfect parallel for the Weng exhibit, a Japanese garden, a desert garden, a Shakespeare garden, and more. If you want to see what is in bloom, for instance, this month, you can click here.
I’ve lived in California most of my adult life, within close proximity of the Huntington – never more than 100 miles – but this is my first trip, and I’m as excited as a kid going to Disneyland!
Ink, Yarn & Beer 