Brush Strokes – Ink, Yarn & Beer

Wisteria Painting in Sumi-e

Down the street from us is a yard filled with wisteria that wanders along the fences.

Painting wisteria is delightful. The sweet smell of wisteria, the graceful fall of the leaves, the thick cascades of lavender flowers, the curl of the tendrils, the twists of the trunk.

Begin with the Flowers

The process of painting wisteria, in ink or in color, is the same. The wisteria is painted in medium tones in general, with dollops of lighter and darker flowers for contrast. I start at the top of the cluster, and use short side-brush strokes that are done quickly. First, press down with the brush, then quickly curve it and pull up. Do this twice, aiming at the center. The outer edge of the flower is thicker than the center. Continue doing this down to the end, decreasing the flowers in size. Place only a few flowers at the bottom – just a touch to suggest the petals. Let the flowers dry so that they are semi-damp.

Painting the Leaves

While the petals are drying, decide where you want to place the leaves. Wisteria leaves are long and slim, and are best painted with a graceful swooping motion. Begin with the narrow tip of the brush barely touching the paper, and then as you continue with the leaf, push down as you keep the brush perpendicular to the paper, and then raise the brush up. It is important to note that the leaves of the wisteria are paired opposite each other, evenly along the stem, and are not staggered. The last leaf is single, continuing off the stem.

Dotting the Flowers and Drawing the Leaf Veins

As the leaves dry, it is time to begin to dot the center of the wisteria flowers. This should be done in dark ink. Just little dots will do. The flowers themselves should be damp-to-dry. If they are too wet, the black ink will bleed into the flower. After you have finished the flowers, return to the leaves, gently creating the center vein with ink slightly darker than the leaf itself.

Tendrils & Trunk

The trunk of the wisteria can be ancient, twisting and woody. This provides a dynamic contrast with the graceful quality of the flowers and leaves. Paint the trunk with a dry brush using dark ink. Lay the brush on its side, and use a hard brush for even more dynamic results. Follow this up with swirls of dark ink to create the tendrils.

Wisteria Painting in Sumi-e – The Video

Above is a colored painting of wisteria I did some time ago. This video captures much of the process I described above. I hope you enjoy it!

Chinese Painting Class: Dragon

What really happened . . .

My last Chinese painting class had the assignment of peony, but that lasted about 20 minutes. A student requested Teacher demonstrate a dragon, and had brought in a painting by a famous artist as a sample. This turned into an incredible class demonstration!

Chinese Dragons 龍

Chinese dragons are different than western dragons. In fact, they really are not dragons by western standards. The pronunciation for dragon in Chinese is “lóng” – like “long” with a long “o” and a rather French “n” sound, like in “fin” – sort of nasal, by what I recall hearing. Wikipedia sums it up:

The Chinese dragon or Oriental dragon is a mythical creature in East Asian culture with a Chinese origin. It is visualized these days as a long, scaled, snake-like creature with four legs and five claws on each (though it did not always have five claws). In contrast to the European dragon which stands on four legs and which is usually portrayed as evil, the Chinese dragon has long been a potent symbol of auspicious power in Chinese folklore and art. The Chinese dragon is traditionally also the embodiment of the concept of yang (male) and associated with the weather as the bringer of rain and water in an agriculturally water-driven nation. Its female counterpart is the Fenghuang (usually translated as a phoenix).

Dragon Painting

The original painting, from a calendar of twelve monthly dragon pin-ups, is to the right. Copying a painting is a traditional method for learning techniques.

When a painting is done with both ink and color, the ink is laid down first. This ink creates the foundation for the painting, the color is added last. Different papers have different qualities, some being unsized, others not. Sized papers resist bleeding. Our dragon was painted on unsized paper, so Teacher’s brush was very dry. Even when diluted ink was used, the brush was blotted on paper towels to pull out excess moisture. When the colors were applied, they were diluted as well, but the brush was blotted, and the wash applied in quick, short strokes.

Beginning the Painting

The initial part of the painting was a rough outline in charcoal, lightly applied to the paper. Proportions were determined, and placement. Then the major outlines of the painting were started – the “bones” of the painting. These lines were both thick and thin, and applied with relatively dark ink. Even though the face was the starting point, the eyes were not completed until the painting was nearly done.

Take a look at how Teacher holds his brush. This is very different than how we hold our brush in the west. Also look at how his left hand is placed on the paper. Those of you who have done calligraphy, or spent countless hours in the classroom in your childhood during penmanship, remember this position.

Teacher uses his brush vertically, using only the tip, as well as sideways. All of this can be done with a large brush tapering to a fine point. This point can be shaped by wiping it along the edge of the dish, twirling it in the process of removing extra ink, as well as with the fingers. Narrow lines are done with the brush tip, but broader areas of ink are done with the length of the brush.

Using only one brush, Teacher completes the overall lines and shades of the painting before color is added. A sense of depth depends on all these elements working together.

Teacher completes one section before moving on to the next. First the head is outlined, then claws, and twisting body. Below the head, the rest of the dragon develops, body, tail, claws. Paper is left white so clouds, mist, and flame may be represented by light washes and color.

When the dragon is done, the eyes are added, very carefully. Ruin the eyes, ruin the painting!

Adding Color

After the dragon is completed, inking continues. The background is completed, final touches are added here and there. Once Teacher is happy with his painting, he begins to add color to the painting. He also has switched to a large, western watercolor brush!

One of the biggest challenges in watercolor is remembering that color becomes lighter as it dries. Unsized Chinese paper can become waterlogged and tear very easily. For the best results, the artist has to think ahead. Knowing about how light a color will dry comes with experience. Even so, as the painting develops, the need for darker color will be found. Patience! Let the paper dry, and then add more.

Teacher mixes an ochre, then moves into a cool blue.

Red is added.

Three hours later, teacher has completed his painting.

Abstractio

As I wrote a bit earlier in my posts about my Chinese Painting Class, there is a challenge to start painting a subject when the knowledge that is gained by practice and by painting has slid by the wayside. In an effort to stop feeling frustrated and stressed out by the process, I decided to play. Play is part of growing up – and part of any art or skill acquisition – a way to try, explore, experiment, learn. I forget this way too much!

Relearning

The subject was peonies. I have done a few good ones. This is what I did that led to tears. To put it politely, it sucks.

Becoming very frustrated, I decided to practice some strokes in classical subjects which are the foundation for Asian painting: bamboo, orchid, chrysanthemum, plum.

Some memory returns, but the brush is far too wet.

Break the Rules

Rules exist to be broken. Many sumi painters paint traditional subjects, which are beautiful in variety and subtlety. Others move into areas far beyond the traditional expressions, meeting either excitement or criticism. The beauty of ink is its immediacy, and how it lends itself to spontaneous expression. However, this element of spontaneity comes with practice and experience, and without either, the dilettante remains such. The artist combines the repeated practice, the knowledge, the experience with the moment. All artists are dilettantes and students at times, and other times, they move into that time and space when it all comes together in a moment of mastery.

Next Steps . . .

Given these thoughts, I let it go.

Absorbent xuan paper – washes – diluted ink – pure ink – pure pigment – mixed pigment – water – no water. Playing with paper, ink, paint is a form of reacqaintance with old friends. Not having a goal, just going somewhere, and letting it lead you into itself.

I am not an abstract painter, but I am not a realistic one, either. I prefer suggestion. Purely abstract adventures are rather frightening – nothing recognizable on which to get a toehold – only a plummeting in, down, out – moving with the moment.

First one done, very timid. I realize just how much I’ve forgotten! One thing that is very important to remember is that the color of Chinese paint becomes a lot light – mucho mucho! – when it dries.

These next few, I diluted the paint and ink considerably less. I sprayed the paper in some areas, applied ink and then painted over it, flicked the paint, pushed and smooshed and let the ink or color bleed in.

I rather like the above two paintings.

Continuing along the same path, I remembered that I have some acrylic paints, Golden Fluid Acrylics, which are a dilute paint (not less pigment, just thinner, like cream) and some others with sparkly effects. This painting is ink and dilute acrylic. Unfortunately, the sparkles don’t show up in the photo, but they do add a nice quality to the finished picture below. I’m actually rather pleased with this one. It makes me think of looking up into an oak tree, seeing the leaves against a bright sun.

And finally, this. I think this is my favorite. Unfortunately, the photo is not the best. This one was a bit more planned, with colors more carefully considered, warms and cools placed in some specific areas. Splatters, too, and drips were done with more conscious thought. Not all of it was planned out. Ink was added before, during, and after the colors. The paper was sprayed at various times. The point of this painting was to try to incorporate what I learned from all the above, and work to see if my thoughts would produce specific results. Did it work? Yes and no.

Adaptations of West & East

These past few weeks I have gone through some of my past paintings. One of the things I have been trying to figure out are ways in which it may be possible to create a certain spontaneous, zen, sumi-quality in a painting done using western materials.

The absorbent paper, and other papers of Japan, China, and Korea are not readily available in the United States. Mounting the very thin, Asian papers is a challenge. Traditional methods of wheat paste are difficult, and until the method is perfected, the artist can lose a lot of work if not careful. In Japan and China, there are shops to do the mounting for you – not so here. Other methods for mounting include using a framer, but the framer may not be able to get rid of the wrinkles for you. Dry mounting, using silicone release paper, such as used in photography mounting, may work, but even that can be risky – the wrinkles may still be there, or the adhesive may catch another part of the painting if you are not careful.

Western watercolor paper comes in rough, cold press, and hot press. Yupo is a Japanese synthetic paper, but sumi ink and gansai rinse away under running water. Thus, it seems, that the ideal is to somehow re-create the absorbent quality as best as possible using western papers.

The quality of xuan and tissue-thin sulfite papers is one of both absorbency and ability to portray each brush stroke. These are the ideal papers for sumi ink and sumi-e. Dry brush is easy enough on western paper. But that absorbency? How to achieve that?

Keeping the paper damp, so the color or ink is drawn into the paper fibers is critical. I don’t want the paper so wet that everything bleeds, but damp enough so the character of the ink or paint is caught. This is so hard to describe!

bamboo

This painting of bamboo is done on Fabriano 100% Cotton Cold Press paper. First, it was masked off with drafting tape onto a board, and then a layer of water was lightly brushed over the surface, and then a pale wash of lemon yellow added.

As in traditional sumi-e, the idea was to paint without outline, and to create a focused, yet spontaneous, painting. The shape of the bamboo stalks was considered, and painted without the drawing of outlines. The brush was pushed onto the paper, or paused in areas. I touched the paper to assess its dryness or dampness, and waited for more drying to occur, or added water as needed. To get the color gradations, I loaded my brush with pale-medium-dark paint, but at times I helped it along by adding color on the edges of the stems, or lifting as necessary. The result seems to have been successful.

With Arches 140# Hot Press paper, the technique is similar, but the smaller the sheet (as in the small size for ACEOs), it becomes apparent that the paper can warp more easily the wetter it becomes. Weighting down the finished product seems to help, and so does ironing!

These next pictures were done on ACEO-sized Arches. For the maple leaves, the background was given a very light wash of yellow, and then, as you can see, a wet-into-wet technique done with the branch on the far right. It has a very soft effect. The lighter leaves were painted first and allowed to become nearly dry before the darker leaves were added. Brush movement of pushing down, or turning and lifting, were done to create the shapes of the leaves as well as for the tiny maple seeds. Overall, fairly successful.

maple tree

The plum tree below is also done on an ACEO-sized sheet of Arches 140# Hot Press. Here, the effort to utilize the damp paper succeeded to a degree. I did load my brush with successive levels of ink, light to dark, but I did not succeed in its showing up. Perhaps the paper needed to be a bit dryer than it was, as the ink shades all blurred to create one shade. Still, the final result was not too bad.

I think that with more practice I might be able to achieve the effects I want, but it will take analysis and experience. In the meantime, I am trying – still! – to master the mounting of xuan with silicone release paper. But, to tell the truth, I rather doubt I have the patience for it.

Fundamentals of Orchid Painting – Notes from The Mustard Seed Garden Manual of Painting, i

“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.