The paper for this project is a handmade kozo paper. It is a thin, lightweight paper. One purpose of this painting adventure is to test how the paper handles repeated thin washes of color – bleeding? wearing? weakening of the fibers? So far, it is holding up beautifully, and does not seem to be buckling or pilling with the layers of color. The natural color of the paper is a very pale warm beige.
The key to layering colors is not to put them on too wet – that is, making sure the brush is damp but not wet. Then, pick up some of the color, blot the brush a little, and then onto the paper. I start toward the central areas, just in case the brush is wetter than I think it is, and if there is some bleeding, it won’t leak out into areas I want white or another color. The brush I am using is a very small brush, and the bristles are cat hair! It comes to a very fine, delicate point, even when wet, with a nice resiliance to it, even loaded with water and color.
The following picture illustrates the beginning of layering of a warm green over the yellows. This warm yellow was applied over both cool and warm yellows, to see the effects of the underlying yellow on the now overlying green. Some areas of the leaves were not evenly covered so that when the cooler green is applied, some variation of warm and cool will hopefully appear.
Follows is a detail of one of the leaves, so you can see the variations within a leaf.
The first underlayers are begun: a lemon yellow, which is a yellow with a greenish cast to it, and a warmish yellow, one closer to orange than green. The idea is that the underlying lemon yellow will aim toward a cooler green, and, obviously, the underlying warmish yellow, will aim toward a warmish green. Two separate photos are provided – the first with the lemon yellow applied, then the orangish yellow.
As you can see in the next photo, the warmer yellow – I think it is a cadmium – has been added to the outline drawing. Sometimes there was more pigment in the brush, sometimes less. The intensity of the yellow varies. There is a definite difference between the two yellows. Some of the leaves have the lemon yellow for the sub-painting, but most have the warmer color.
I don’t know if this is “traditional” in color or approach, but it should be fun to see the results!
I have been working on a handmade paper, experimenting with it as far as color, line, and ability to withstand wetness in the form of washes and in the form of repeated layers of color.
So . . . the next picture was a free-hand outlining of chrysanthemums, trying to create lined areas with logical beginnings and ends, and then painted with the saiboku. I think the results are much better. Remember the coloring books of your childhood? Staying inside the lines was “good” – and actually, with “meticulous” painting, staying in the lines is “good” too! And, it was fairly easy to do. I filled the lines in with mixtures of colors, in one layer, except for a couple of small areas where you will see areas of orange in the green of the leaves. I recalled, last minute, something I read about applying multiple thin layers of colors, to gain a translucency not possible with a single layer of paint. Thus, I dabbed in a bit of orange, while the paper and paint had not yet dried. I like the results.
And this leads to today’s doings, which I hope to photograph along the way. It may be done today, but as the day is dampish, and other things are going, it may be a project of some duration.
To begin, I return to the chrysanthemums. Ink ground, I did the outlines, some with darker ink, some with lighter ink. What I plan to do is to do thin layers of paint, and then photograph the picture before beginning the next layer of painting. Never having done this before, I will be looking to some texts, such as Fritz van Briessen’s The Way of the Brush: Painting Techniques of China and Japan. Others will be mentioned as used.
Flower Petals, Flower Stems, and “Dotting the Heart”
Petals & Stems
According to The Mustard Seed Garden, each flower should have five petals. The smaller, narrow petals curl and the larger ones are broad and straight. Stamens are indicated by dark dots of ink. When the flowers face the viewer, the dark dots are in the center. When the flower is viewed from the back, the stamens are seen on either side of the middle petal. When stamens are on the side, the flower is being viewed from the side.
As illustrated above, the flowers are in different positions – facing toward you, away from you, as well as to the side. In addition to different positions, the flowers are also seen in different degrees of development, from new flowers to older ones more fully opened.
Painting the orchid petals is a lot more difficult than it looks! A written description is not the best, but let me try:
Hold the brush upright,filled with light to medium ink.
If starting at the center of the flower, start with very gentle pressure, and then increase it slowly as you curve the brush a little, to curve the petal. Near the end of the petal, raise the brush up, and back over the petal you have just painted.
If starting at the the end of the petal and moving toward the heart of the flower, begin with pressing down and then curving toward the center, raising the brush as you move until the tip glides up off the paper in a gentle arc. You may want to retreat a little over the narrow part as you lift your brush.
Painting the stems is rather like dancing the waltz – a dip, a sway. If you look at the picture above, you will see that the stems have a bit of a bulge at either end. This is done with an upright brush put straight down on the paper, a little pause before moving it, and then a slight pause with light pressure at the end before lifting the brush from the paper. Do it to the beat of a waltz – a one, two, and a three – or to the equivalent of ONE (push brush down) two (pause and begin lifting brush and moving toward the end of the stem) THREE (push down, and lift, retreating over the painted area).
The fact is, describing how to use a brush for sumi-e is difficult. The only way to do it. If you have never taken a class where you can watch the instructor, the next best thing can be a video. There are a lot of good videos on You Tube and elsewhere on the net. Here are a few that came up when I put in “orchid painting” on Google, and chose video.
In particular, this one is good for how to paint the flowers themselves:
The painter is listed in YouTube as “yanghaiying” if you care to do a search for her.
Dotting the Heart
To “dot the heart” of the orchid is to bring the flower to bloom. To do this, dark ink is used. A brush that is relatively dry is also best, as then the ink will not bleed into the brush’s bristles nor onto the paper. Waiting until the petals have dried also helps.
To create the stroke, I begin with the brush upright, push the tip down gently, and then curve and lift the bush up at the same time. Observe some videos to see how the artist moves the brush – and watch it over and over to observe the movement of the artist, how the brush bristles are manipulated, how the brush is turned. Be patient – that little flick! is tricky! Once you accomplish that, you will be able to create some incredibly beautiful dots.
As can be seen in the above picture, there are all kinds of dots. Some begin with downward pressure, rise and push down again. Others are a dot, with a flick and a turn. Some curve, some are straighter, some are dots which are curvy – pressure and a turn – before the brush is slowly lifted up from the paper and turned as it leaves.
Just remember – it takes practice. People don’t “just paint”! Practicing all these little steps, leaves, petals, dots, and lines will give you the skill, knowledge and dexterity to create a seemingly simple painting.
Putting all these steps together will give you a lovely orchid!
“In learning to write, one begins with simple characters made up of a few strokes and proceeds to complicated characters with several strokes. In the same way, in learning to paint flowers, one begins with those with few petals and proceeds to those with many petals, from small leaves to large, and from single stems to bunches. Each division of subject matter is classified here so that beginners may learn them thoroughly, not only beholding them with their eyes but retaining the impressions in their minds.” (p. 323, Sze, The Mustard Seed Garden Manual of Painting, 1963 The Bollingen Foundation).
There is a long tradition in painting the orchid in Asian art, and, according to The Mustard Seed, the painting of the leaves is of primary importance as the entire painting of the orchid is dependent on the execution of the leaves.
Strokes to be learned are the “nail end” stroke, the “rat’s tail” stroke, and the “belly of the mantis.”
Compositional elements include “eye of the phoenix” and “breaking the eye of the elephant.” Additionally, there is a need to understand the growth pattern of the orchid so that one may express in a stroke or two the way in which leaves wrap around the base of the orchid, as well as how the leaves form a sheath for the roots.
Leaves should cross, overlap, bend, and raise, yet “never repeat in a monotonous manner” (p. 325). Correct portrayal of orchid leaves, to show distinction between varieties, is extremely important.
Most of us will easily paint leaves left to right, but of equal importance is being able to paint them as dexterously right to left. Observation of how a plant grows upward, downward, how leaves twist and turn is all vital to successful painting. Reality and the artistic aesthetic may conflict, but the spirit of the plant is the essential component.
To paint these leaves, load your brush with light, medium, and then tip with dark ink. Hold your brush upright, and then pretend you are a leaf blowing in the wind. Your arm flows with the breeze, up and down, sideways right and left. The leaf then is painted – narrow, fat, rising up to the sky, and down to touch the earth.
To me, that is perhaps the most difficult element of a painting – the spirit, or chi. And yet, when I finally begin to connect with a plant, and a painting, the painting comes alive before my eyes. I can feel the leaves as they move in the wind. I can smell the fragrance of the flower. More, I can feel the energy of the entire plant, and my imagination moves beyond my senses and merges with more than the plant, more than the world, more than my mind’s eye – there is an altogether other world where everything merges and becomes more real than reality.
Ink, Yarn & Beer 