These really are a lot of work to make, but they are getting easier. Again, a lot of the hard work is the setting up and the processing. I really do minimal work on them, but would like to make ones that are rather polished. The fact is, making videos is a lot like taking photographs – most of what is done is not at all good, most is trash, only a few are good. Making videos for an afternoon proved that point all too well. Also, the fact is, that being on film really makes me self-conscious, not something I like. Painting a line wrong creates instant trauma!
Initially, when I set up to make videos, the whole idea was to do chrysanthemums, in keeping with their autumnal theme in ink painting. Well, I really don’t like any chrysanthemum I’ve ever painted, so why should I be so foolish as to think I might be able to do one for a video?
I ended up painting corn – a really easy subject, yet one that is uses a lot of different techniques. Dots and medium grey ink, very wet. Twisting the brush in different directions as painting. Dry brush strokes. Contrasting shades and textures.
There are a lot of “try before you buy” video editors out there. Some allow you to publish a video without blurbs on the final product which tell the whole world who they are. Others do it, which is annoying, but they can be removed with some editing. Some programs are fairly intuitive – which is important if you don’t know a dang thing about video editing – and others come with decent tutorials and help sections. Some are slow to load, hard to see, confusing, but full of cool devices. Others are not, but have online resources which you can use to create your own what-is-needed, like a title or template. To get what I want I have been swapping between a number of programs, but expect I will eventually settle on one. I really appreciate 30-day windows to try out stuff! I’ve been rather confused and frustrated, but am beginning to understand a bit about them. One thing I do know is that over-processing the videos is occurring, and a lot of quality is lost. As long as you don’t watch them in full-screen mode, the quality is okay.
Sunflower Sunday
As always, my weekends are far too busy, but I do make time to have fun. This weekend I was determined to try out a different set-up for the Zi8. When I work inside in my studio (office, spare room, whatever!), the camera cannot be easily placed where I usually work. My painting area is part of an L-shaped computer table, and the camera really is best placed to my left. Unfortunately, the computer area is also to the left. I have tried all sorts of gyrations, but nothing was especially great. Practice will eventually create the perfect set-up.
So, I decided to try it out on the patio, and it worked out pretty well. I could get the camera over to the left of the chair and angle it so I could film as if the viewer were looking over my left shoulder. The key was to place the feet of the tripod perpendicular to the table – this way I could scoot the chair back to stay out of the picture, but not knock over everything if I moved. All this worry creates a very stressful painting situation, but this time I actually felt fairly comfortable, and ended up painting and filming – turning the camera on and off with the remote – for quite some time.
The result was a 15-minute video on painting sunflowers. YouTube has both a size and time limit, but I decided to try it anyhow. No dice. I tried to compress the video into a 10-minute segment, and all I ended up seeing was a black screen. Thus, I had to divide the video into segments, which was not easy until I got into another software package. I was able to edit out sections with pauses, and divide the sections into different videos with different titles. The final result is two videos!
Painting Sunflowers in Sumi-e: Part One and Part Two
Here they are! YouTube also allows you to do “audioswap” and add a free (to the video-maker) music track to the video, with the caveat some advertising may appear. I did it for the Painting Wild Orchids in Sumi-evideo, and for the two sunflower ones, which you can see below. Hopefully the music will add to the proverbial “viewing pleasure” and the advertisements won’t distract.
Hirokazu Kosaka made a series of four videos, all of which are readily available on the different video services. These videos are particularly interesting to me because of their content: the Japanese brush, and calligraphy.
A brief biography of Kosaka can be found at the Montalvo Arts Center, which has this to say about him:
Born in Wakayama, Japan in 1948, Hirokazu Kosaka now lives and works in Los Angeles, where he serves as Visual Arts Director at the Japanese American Cultural and Community Center. As a student at the Chouinard Art Institute, where he graduated with a BFA in painting in 1970, Kosaka began to explore the art of performance, looking toward artists such as Wolfgang Stoerchle, Allen Ruppersberg, William Leavitt and Chris Burden for inspiration. As a young artist, Kosaka also began to incorporate Eastern traditions in his art, drawing from his appreciation of the centuries-old traditions of Noh drama and Kabuki theater, his knowledge of the ground-breaking experimental art of Japan’s Gutai Group in the mid-1960s, as well as his own experience with Buddhist chanting and Zen archery.
Today, Kosaka is known for his large-scale, performative pieces, which often use publicly accessible space as a platform for dance, performance, and visual art practice. Kosaka’s work has been seen and performed at venues including the Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles; the Japanese American Theatre, Los Angeles; the J. Paul Getty Center; the Seattle Art Museum; and the Indianapolis Art Museum. Selected grants and awards include a Creative Capital grant, a Rockefeller Foundation grant, a California Arts grant, and a Los Angeles Endowment for the Arts grant.
In 1973, Kosaka returned to Japan where he completed a three-month long performance piece called “Soleares” and later embarked upon a traditional 1,000-mile Zen pilgrimage called “The 88 Temples.” After completing this spiritual journey, Kosaka remained at a Buddhist monastery and was ordained as a Shigon Buddhist priest. He later returned to Los Angeles where he began to create large-scale, process-oriented artworks infused with the teachings he learned as a priest.
Dating back to the 11th century, Japanese Kyudo – or archery, literally meaning “way of the bow” – has been used as an art of purification in ceremonies within the Imperial Court of Japan and within Zen Buddhism. Practitioners of this ceremonial and contemplative form focus on attaining “the perfect shot.” In order to accomplish the perfect shot, one must have immediate action without any intervening thoughts; this entails proper form, physique, patience, and dedication.
Reverend Hirokazu Kosaka can trace Kyudo in his family’s lineage back multiple generations, and often responds “300 years” when asked how long he has studied the art. His father began teaching Kosaka when he was 10 years old, just as his grandfather taught Kosaka’s father, as was done in previous generations. Kosaka says, “My art, and therefore my life, is the result of centuries of ‘spiritual mutation,’ the manifestation of my experience with Kyudo.”
In 2009, Hirokazu participated in ACTA’s Apprenticeship Program with apprentice Ferris Smith. The apprenticeship deepened Ferris’ training in form, patience, and the historical pursuit and endless search for the perfect shot.
Interestingly, Kosaka does not seem to have a personal web page, and so in a way he becomes an elusive figure. Searching for him on Google, it becomes clear that this is a man who is creative in ways not traditionally recognized, and his art is experiential to a great degree. It makes the search for the evanescent tangible, and should one find a scheduled event, it may be worth the enquiry. I certainly am curious.
According to the Google Chinese translator, 国画兰花 means “orchid painting.” If I plug in the characters, sure enough, that is what I get! There are a lot of really beautiful orchid paintings, both Japanese and Chinese, and some from other parts of the world.
The Four Gentlemen
In learning to paint in sumi, the student first becomes acquainted and accomplished in painting the orchid, bamboo, plum, and chrysanthemum. Practicing each, the student learns critical brush strokes, and while one may become adept at the strokes, mastery is where the artist steps in.
Painting the orchid allows the student the opportunity to practice long movements with the brush. This requires moving with the arm, rather than the wrist, which is very strange to us in the west. Those of us who learned to write script hour after hour in school learned to control our movements. Big, sweeping arm movements were not encouraged.
In addition to learning to control large movements, the student also works with varying shades of ink, from light to dark, to create a dynamic painting. The leaves require darker ink, and the flowers require lighter. In addition to lighter ink, the flowers require smaller, controlled movement. Finally, “dotting the heart” – the black ink at the center of each flower – requires the patience for the ink to dry. Applied too soon, the elegant shape becomes a blurry spot in what might otherwise be a perfect flower.
Besides being an elemental step to learning sumi, the orchid represents spring, as well as the virtues of noble behavior and modesty. In Japanese, the “Four Gentlemen” are called “shi-kunshi. Each plant has a corresponding season and virtue. In contemplating paintings of these subjects – the orchid, bamboo, plum, and chrysanthemum – one also steps into the symbolism of each.
Painting the Orchid
Of the “Four Gentlemen,” the orchid is the most easily learned. The long flowing leaves are delightful to paint. The flowers are as well – a great deal of satisfaction is found in mastering the curves of the strokes. Most difficult is “dotting the heart.”
That said, the mastery of the orchid, or any of the Gentlemen, is a lifetime experience. The expression and shape and composition of such simple subjects becomes increasingly more interesting, and more challenging.
The Video: Painting the Wild Orchid in Sumi-e
Here is a video showing some of my orchid paintings in color, as well as a demonstration in sumi. I have not annotated this video, but am leaving it for you to observe. Let me know what you think!
Fields of wheat are found throughout the world, and it is a grain of significant nutritional importance to many populations. Technically a grass, wheat originated in the middle east, and was the agricultural foundation for a number of early civilizations.
As a subject to paint in sumi-e, it provides a number of interesting lines and planes. Using a diagram of the plant, pictures of wheat found on the web, and dried grasses for arrangements, there are many resources for the artist. I’ve used a combination of all three as references.
Painting Wheat
The first area to be painted is the seed head. It weights down the plant, and gives a graceful direction to the subject. By painting these first, the focal points of the picture may be chosen. As wheat rests on a top of a tall stem, consideration should be given to the composition – is the wheat going to be upright and tall, or bending over in a graceful curve?
The seeds are painted dark to light, with the ink on the brush being used until gone. Next, the stem and the beard may be painted. The beard is lightly done, with quick graceful strokes. The stem may be created with a pause and pressure at the beginning of the stroke, before continuing on and completing the stem in one movement.
The leaves are done at the end, using the side-brush stroke in combination with vertical strokes which change direction and pressure for character. Finally, the veins of the leaves are done in medium-to-dark ink.
My own wheat is rather amateurish in execution, but that is how one learns. Many sumi artists and calligraphers will practice a subject over and over until the right combination is reached, and the seemingly effortless execution of a painting is done.
Ink, Yarn & Beer 