Tag: chinese painting

Pain(ting Class)

For the past two years I have been getting a teaching credential, while teaching full time. You can imagine it – no time to do what I want to do. As time passes, doing what I want to do becomes an ever-increasing desperation. So many people and things pulling at me that it becomes difficult to know who I am at times. I am always someone in relationship to something else. When there finally is time, a sense of guilt descends. Is it really all right to be so selfish? Shouldn’t I be running off to the next project? That is, the next project for the students or the credential?? And reading for pleasure? No, it is anatomy and physiology and physics, along with making sure this “i” is dotted, and that “t” is crossed.

Now the credential is done. Most classes are prepped. Enter the California budget crisis. Thus far, I’ve been spared, but there is always that wondering in the back of my mind, the worry, the anxiety. Now I prepare for other things, being pushed into action on things I was going to do later.

Painting, more than anything, is really the most selfish thing I do in my life. No one is allowed to bother me. I get to express myself on paper. Then the doorbell rings. The dogs bark. I feel like screaming. Certainly not conducive for getting into the zen of it all. I feel angry and guilty.

The fact is, I’ve not done any consistent painting for almost two years, less in the past one. I’ve lost my connection with brush and paper, and I’ve lost my knowledge of color and how it all comes together. Tonight I was going to do the peony from class, and I got into hating my brushes. Too soft, too this, too whatever. The fact was, it was me.

I wanted to “produce” when in reality, the best thing to do was play. I pulled out a pile of various Chinese papers I’d cut some time ago, and off I went, not worrying about color or type of paper, or anything. Some of it was pure crap, other things I liked. I held the brush close to the bristles, other times I stood up and held the brush loosely, and just swooped, smooshed, and curved.

Um, I had fun!

Chinese Painting Class, 23 May 2009 – ii

A week ago, our Chinese painting class met, as it does, once a month. This month’s subject is officially the peony, but we moved into something else….that story shall follow. Let us stay on track, though!

The Peony

The peony is an incredible flower, long held in esteem in many cultures for its beauty.  In general, it prefers a cooler winter than we have in California, but one of my classmates mentions having success locally.  Beautiful photos of the flower make you want to grow some!

The Teacher

Mr. Ha – whom we frequently call “Teacher” – or Harris – arrives from some distance by 9:30 a.m., to our classroom in Oak Park.

The Class

We drift in. Paulina has supplies if we need some. Classmates pick the subjects to paint (such as the peony for this month), or ask Teacher to do a painting or calligraphy demonstration.

As I mentioned in the earlier post in this series, it is traditional in Chinese and Japanese schools to copy a painting to learn how it was done. This means looking at the painting closely, and analyzing it. For myself, this is really difficult – I don’t consider analysis part of painting. But, with analysis, comes practice, and from practice comes skill, and finally mastery of the subject. The work develops the mind, the hand, the kinesthetic memory, and from this can flow a spontaneous painting which is simple in content, yet masterful in execution. It is worth the effort.

The Books

Publishers are always producing new “how to” books about watercolor techniques, or impasto, or drawing, or whatever. Asian publishers are not any different, though for some strange reason, they tend to publish a lot of books about Chinese or Japanese painting. These books cover traditional subjects, such as the peony, and often have an entire book devoted to one subject. Step-by-step, a final painting is demonstrated. How to load the brush, and which colors to use in this process are shown. Brush stroke direction is indicated, or sequence.

The painting originally chosen for this session was quite complex, with peonies in many different colors; you can see the painting to the right, or for a larger one, here.

Teacher chose a simpler one for class demonstration, which I think was far more effective than the original because it is less overwhelming. What needs to be remembered is that we are watching Teacher as he paints. This means we need to observe his brushwork – how he maneuvers the brush on the paper, what colors he chooses, and how he loads his brush. As students, we can practice from Teacher’s demonstration, and then move on to copying a more complex painting when alone in the studio.

Chinese Painting Class, 23 May 2009 – i

Here where I live, there is a small group of painters who meet monthly for class with our instructor. This is the Chinese Brush Painting and Calligraphy Association of Thousand Oaks. Our instructor, Mr. Ha, is from China. He has trained in traditional Chinese and Western art traditions. Copying the works of other artists is a tradtional learning tool in both art traditions, but perhaps more so in the East. This means to learn by imitating and reproducing the work of others. Control of brush and stroke, elements of composition, and ways in which effects are produced are studied, analyzed, and executed. In Saturday’s class, we will watch Mr. Ha as he reproduces this painting, take notes, and learn from observation. At home, we do our work.

This is a tough process. Paper and ink and color are far more challenging than may be anticipated. As I have written in other posts, brushes from Asia are not the same as Western, and the paper certainly is not. The paper we use in class is usually fairly soft and unsized, and this absorbency gives brushwork its immediacy and spontaneous quality, but in just a second, a beautiful work can be destroyed by too much water in the brush. Watch out, grab your towel and blot!

This month’s painting is peonies. They symbolize riches and honor, good fortune, and prosperity.

Painting the Real World

One of the beauties of painting is it can be photographic in detail, or suggestive, allowing the mind and imagination to fill in the spaces. Personally, I prefer the latter. I’ve never been a realist, yet as someone who enjoys painting, I love seeing what the “real” is, and seeing the work of the “artist.”

This is a strange orchid. It lives in a pot out on the patio, grows several feet tall, and survives my neglect. I have seen this same orchid flourishing in more protected areas, lanky and straggly, in pinks, oranges and reds. Can you believe that this flower is about 5 feet tall? It really is!

The flowers themselves are rather tiny, but clustered in groups at the top of long stems. Air roots emerge periodically from the stems, and if you want more of these orchids, cut them down, stick ’em in the ground or potting soil, and off they go.

These orchids make me laugh. I just don’t expect orchids to be quite so hardy! I always think of delicate flowers, in steamy hot houses, sort of like the descriptions in that old story by Dashiell Hammett – decay, rot, humidity.

These orchids are really not elegant in the way cymbidiums are, or other more exotic specimens. Their beauty lies in the smallness of the flower, the gangliness of the stalks, the sturdy jutting of the leaves.

Here is my homage to this unnamed orchid.

The Moon in Ink Painting

In most western paintings, the moon is painted full, large and overwhelming.  In Japanese scrolls, the moon is shown in all its phases.  Waxing.  Waning.  Gibbous.  Full.  Crescent.  Quarter.  In fog.  Alone in the sky.  Through the trees.

The fact is, to paint the moon full is very simple!  Catching its other shapes and moods is not so easy.  I’ve tried to paint the moon over the years, attempting to catch a quality or mood in a few strokes. I’ll leave it to you to judge.