Persimmons, ii

With this entire week off for Thanksgiving, I have free time.  No rush like at Christmas.  Other family members will be serving up dinner, which means I don’t have anything to do, other than show up and be charming!  Josh is making tiramisu for dessert – off the hook there.  So easy.

Not really.  I’ve brought work home to do, such as contracts and letters of recommendation, but in that mix I certainly plan to do some fun things.  The latest Harry Potter movie is slated for the next couple of days, as is time to knit and paint and work out and walk and take some photos and read and learn some software.  Maybe a day trip to Santa Monica, too.

And paint I have – with disastrous results.  Persimmons are far harder to do than I was thinking – and I can see what not painting has done as well:  I’ve lost the knack.  Sure, I know I will get it back, but it is not a lot of fun to be frustrated!  More importantly, though, is realizing that, although I enjoy photography, I also love having things in my hands to manipulate – a brush, a knitting needle, a trowel, a mixing spoon.  Photography is a bit more intellectual even though I like the gut approach, too, of thinking of something, and trying it out.  It also can be cumbersome, and I really like to travel light.  Lugging around a dog and a camera is not fun, especially if the dog sees a squirrel!

Here are my persimmon paintings.  Yuck.

I certainly plan on working on the subject matter a lot.  The part where the fruit attaches to the tree is rather interesting – the area is square and continues that square shape into the leaves at a 45 degree angle, creating a rather interesting pattern of diamonds within diamonds.  The shape of the hachiya persimmon is longer and pointed, sort of like an acorn, while the fuyu persimmons are squat.  Luckily, both are available in the market right now.  Mine are getting moldy.

The Four Treasures: Inkstone / Suzuri, vii

Every region has its artistic styles, as well as every time period. The same may be said for production of the suzuri, with a classical shape and style modified according to era and taste.  The most common suzuri is a rectangular stone with a deep well on one end, and a flat surface sloping into it  This makes sense, as it is practical and probably fairly easy to accomplish. Decorative elements and embellishments in the non-working areas are certainly possible, and I would be inclined to say almost inevitable for the expression of the carver’s creative force.

Besides the impact of regional and time preferences, the economics behind the stone’s production itself may be seen.  Stones for the masses – the daily stone – are probably more plain than those for the aficionado, simply because of their utilitarian role. These can be made quickly, with or without attention to quality or aesthetics. Today, stones for tourists may be pretty but worthless as far as usability; other stones may be far better in quality and less ornate. A good stone is absolutely necessary, whether for calligraphy or painting, if you are using an ink stick.

Kiri Wood Box

Today’s stone is from Japan. It does not have a rosewood box, but it is very nicely encased in a kiri wood box. Unfortunately, I cannot read the label! (If anyone can translate for me, please let me know.) This is the only stone in my collection I have not yet used, and I am still deciding on whether or not I should – it is so beautiful as it is! Knowing me, though, I will at some point when I am not rushing around – I want to take the time to enjoy it.

I am under the impression this stone is carved from nachiguro, a lustrous black slate or river shale unique to Japan, and has been used since the Nara period (710 – 794 CE) for carving practical and ornamental items, such as suzuri, go stones, and suiseki, This stone is a sedimentary shale which originates in the upper side of the Kumano river in Japan’s Mie prefecture, and is characteristically very dark and shiny.

Suzuri Lid with Carving

Many traditional Japanese themes and symbols may be considered by a master craftsman in creating a high-end suzuri, but this artist has taken a considerably more modern approach.  The abstract elements of the lid are suggestive of many things, and certainly some traditional themes as well.  Just in a glance, I can envision falling leaves or swimming koi.  The carving is very subtle and pleasing, working very well within the smooth borders of the circle.  To the touch, the different textures are smooth and rough at the same time, without any sharp edges.

Inside Well of Suzuri

The smooth elegance of the polished stone is a bit more rough on the grinding surface and the well, having the necessary tooth to create sumi ink.  The borders of the well are polished and shiny, in keeping with the rest of the stone.  The contrast of these two areas repeats the circular motif of the suzuri’s shape, as well as the framing of the lid’s pattern.  The underside of the lid is as smooth and reflective as the underside of the lower portion of the stone.  Even the underside of the suzuri well is smoothly finished, and follows the circular motifs of lid surface and underside, and the well.  This stone is not especially old, probably produced in last quarter of the twentieth century.  It is a large, heavy stone, measuring more than 8 inches (20 cm) in diameter.

Suzuri Well on Left; Underside of Suzuri Lid on Right
Underside of Suzuri Well

I expect this stone could be considered something of a luxury item, for oneself or as a special gift. Given this, I cannot help but wonder if the beauty of the stone is all it has – can it be used to produce good ink? Even if it does not, there is something to be said for simply beautiful objects. The suzuri’s circular shape is pleasing, the lid’s carved surface intriguing, and the soft, candescent glow of the stone subtly elegant. Aesthetically, this suzuri is a sculpture to be appreciated in its own right.

Sumi-e / Ink Painting Books, i

Over the past year, I have gotten some requests about recommendations for sumi-e / ink painting books.  In my own collection, I have a number which are still available on today’s market.  Current books will be the focus for today’s posting; later I will move into other books in my library which may still be available as used, or in re-issued editions.  Calligraphy books will be in their own postings.

These are technique books.  Some are filled with little text and a lot of pictures, others have a lot of writing as well.  There are times when I love to read, and there are times when I want a picture to copy and learn from it.  My mood and subject interest will determine which book I choose.

By copying a picture, you have to analyze what is going on, and figure out how you will do it.  This means looking at the brush strokes – even if there is a description in the text on how to load the brush, angle it, and move it.  It never hurts to do these as practice because that is how we all master anything – through repetition, thought, doing.

Current Sumi-e / Ink Painting Books

Copying the Master and Stealing His Secrets, by Brenda Jordan and Victoria Weston

I am placing this book a the top of the list because it is important to understand a bit of the history of an artist’s training in traditional Japan, not just in modern times, but hundreds of years ago.

Copying the Master explores the handing down of painting traditions in Japan from one generation to the next.  Students may vary in ability, but the skills taught allow the student to gain technical skills needed for successful painting.  Japanese tradition in teaching is through observation, not explanation, at least in the arts, as I understand it.  This book has some amusing stories behind the students’ learning, as well as give the reader an appreciation of what it meant to be an art student in an artist’s atelier.  Whether or not the old masters of the Renaissance taught their students in the same way is an interesting thought – natural skill, observation, or was it more didactic, as we may find in today’s art schools?

For myself, this book is of considerable importance because understanding the traditions behind Asian art training really helps lessen my sense of guilt about copying someone else’s work!  After all, plagiarism is seriously frowned upon; the same may be said for copying another’s artwork.  Besides that element, this book broadens the reader and artist’s appreciation of the cultural and historical context of the training of artists, as well as acknowledging the whims of fashion and social attitudes about the roles of men and women in the art world.

The Mustard Seed Garden Manual of Painting, translated by Mai-Mai Sze

In and of itself, this is a really wonderful piece of work.  The reason for this is because it has been in print for over three hundred years, in China and Japan – there is a traditional approach which may seem odd, but it does lay a foundation of appreciation for Chinese painting and its place in time.  For the westerner, this book gives valuable understanding about the structure of plants and animals in brush stroke and in outlines (created using a brush).  Because of the fact these images are derived from woodblocks, the nuances of the brushwork are lost, but if you copy the examples, you will create your own subtleties.  In my own library, I have a ten-volume series of this book in Japanese from the early 1900s (I think).

The Way of the Brush:  Painting Techniques of China and Japan, by Fritz van Briessen

This book combines a history of Chinese and Japanese ink painting along with examples of specific brush strokes, their forms and shapes, and how to do them.  While this is not a book for the beginning painter who wants to dive in and just do, this book is, in my opinion, a necessity to begin to understand the aesthetic of ink painting.

Many beginning ink painters – myself included – are lead to believe that all is spontaneous scribbling and splattering.  “Anyone can do that!” is a common approach.  When you get into this book, which may be a bit of a challenge, you learn far more than you ever thought was possible about ink painting.  There is work involved, planning, and thought in a picture, and even though it is only ink on paper (something the Western sense of art tends to devalue), any sumi painter knows that one wrong brush stroke can destroy a painting.  When the appreciation of the mastery of brushwork is gained, a greater appreciation for Asian artwork is gained as well.

For myself, gaining mastery of a brush is essential to my appreciation of Chinese and Japanese art.  As someone with a bit of experience in art media of America and Europe, I have to work very hard to forego my cultural definitions of art.  This is not something I have been able to achieve overnight, but something that has come about through my own painting.  Understanding aesthetics foreign to our own allows a greater appreciation and a deeper valuation of an art, whether in ink painting, pottery, or literature, to name a few.

Chinese Painting Techniques, by Alison Stilwell Cameron

This, like van Briessen’s book, is another book that is informative and practical.  Cameron spent her childhood in China, and spoke Chinese as her first language.  Her training in Chinese art began in her youth, following traditional subjects and training methods.

Cameron does not go into the historical details of Chinese painting, but she does go into the different styles of painting.  She covers brush strokes and their structure; plants, animals, and people; spontaneous painting, and best of all, explores fine line painting.  The scope of this book is broad and much of it is general, but the detail of writing takes the student / reader / artist into areas of ink painting which many books do not cover.

Japanese Ink Painting:  The Art of Sumi-e, by Naomi Okamoto

I’ll admit to some prejudice in favoring this book, partly for the author’s name (!), but also because of the fact Okamoto is from Japan, and has been trained in both Japanese and European art traditions.  As a result, she demonstrates sumi-e in both ways – the gentle, simple, clean aesthetic of sumi-e, as well as the illustrative use of ink in more Western traditions.

The medium of the ink stick is not one in which most westerners have been trained.  In school, it might come along as part of a cultural awareness, but it is not taught in most school classes as an ongoing point of study, such as pencil drawing or watercolor.  Higgins opaque India ink is what most people will think of when it comes to “ink” for artwork.  I think many westerners approach ink painting as an experience so different that the artist really does not learn to appreciate its value as a medium.  Without color, the ink only gives us black and white and shades of grey.  The characteristics of the ink, and the type of paper used, also are odd to us – unsized paper?!  That is usually cheap newsprint.  If you look at Okamoto’s landscape and figure paintings, a different appreciation of ink-on-paper can be developed.

Finally, Okamoto approaches subjects in a less messy and splattery way than a number of western sumi-e painters.  I enjoy her structured approach, which is not tight, but more graceful.  I have learned a lot from this book that I have not found in others; if I were to put it into words, I would say that I understood the simplicity and elegance of an ink stroke most fully in following her instruction – a very subtle experience.

Japanese Ink Painting:  A Beginner’s Guide to Sumi-e, by Susan Frame

Susan Frame combines watercolor techniques and sumi-e strokes in an uniquely personal way.  There is spontaneity in her work which is expressed through a mastery of brushwork.  Most sumi-e is black / white /grey, but Frame adds color intensively.

Brush strokes are demonstrated in this book, and while the author does not go into great detail, the information is clear and well presented.  The student can learn from this book, as well as realize that ink painting does not need to be confined to one’s perception of ink and its role in artwork.

For me, this book is not just about brushwork, but also about having fun, not taking myself too seriously, and letting go.  Frame’s work is splashy and expressive.  My only criticism is that her work appears more Chinese in influence than Japanese, but that is simply my perspective.

The Sumi-e Book, by Yolanda Mayhall

Yolanda Mayhall’s first book, The Sumi-e Book, covers many of the basic strokes of sumi-e and ink painting.  Because she does not introduce color, the beginning student can truly appreciate the nuances of gradation and the impact they have on paper.  From basic brush strokes, demonstrations show how pictures may be created.  Overall, this book covers enough for the beginning student to gain mastery if he or she has the correct supplies.

The Sumi-e Dream Book, by Yolanda Mayhall

I have mixed feelings about this book as far as some of the illustrations – the “dream” pictures make me a bit edgy – but the illustrations of brushwork, flowers, and landscapes are quite enjoyable.  The subtle colors of many of the illustrations bring out the beauty of the brush strokes, but I find that in the very colorful paintings the brushwork is easily lost.

Artists need to explore medium in different ways, not limited ones; the creativity of Mayhall comes through quite clearly.  I also enjoy the fact I can see the evolution of her work and the influence different art traditions play out.  The biggest value of this book is that it takes sumi-e and utilizes it in a melding of both East and West.

Conclusions

Any student of sumi-e / ink painting should know of the traditions behind it, its cultural and artistic significance in Asia.  I think that an appreciation of a traditional art form in its own context takes it beyond just something to look at, and brings it into a realm of personal understanding – I can appreciate a brush stroke far more than before because not only have I read about the training, I have done it, I do it, I struggle to master it.  I know its continuum.

At the same time, I am also a product of western culture and its values and aesthetics.  Being able to take ink painting into my own sense of aesthetic is important for my own expression.  Some people may not approve of the works of Frame or Mayhall, as they break with tradition, but they have a significance because they demonstrate how cultures meld and art develops.  Western art has also made its impact on the visual arts of Asia – there are some very fine oil / acrylic / watercolor painters who have learned our traditional media and mastered it, blending it with their own traditions, and creating wonderful pieces of art.

If you are a serious student of ink painting, I recommend all of these books, each for a different reason.

The August Project: Begun, Not Begun

I’ll use the excuse that I am warming up – so to speak – to my August project of copying the Heart Sutra.  After giving it some thought, I am still thinking about it.

I decided, as I thought, to simply dig out some ink and some brushes, and play a bit, loosen up.  Once I did so, I realized how stressed out about everything I’ve become.  Even this project, because perfection is what was on my mind, not enjoying a process.

I also was considering the reality that using the seal script might not work for me.  I did a bit of research on the seal script, and realized it would be possibly more frustrating than I wanted to handle.  The reason is that the lines are uniform, with none of the thick-and-thin and technical details, such as bone lines and dots, that kaisho would require.  So, for now, I have decided I will probably do it in the latter.

Playtime

In the process of playing, I started with lines.  Straight lines, horizontal, vertical, criss-crossed.  Circles and spirals.  Bone lines.  Dots.  I used bottled ink, and cheap, poorer quality ink sticks, and sheets of paper.  The results are like photography – lotsa photos, lotsa paintings – and only a few which are particularly pleasing.

Lines

In the line category, I wonder if it is just me, or if other people from the West experience the incredible difficulty I have with doing straight lines.  Both horizontal and vertical, parallel to the edge of the paper, are very difficult to produce.  My theory is that as someone who was taught the Palmer method of script, everything – but everything! – has a slant on it, except the t-bar.  Horizontal and vertical lines are very foreign.

In one book, one on the meditative approach to sumi, the author wrote about the importance of focusing on each line individually, not on the group of lines.  This proved to be the case.  As I began to paint grid after grid, the understanding of this concept became quite clear. Becoming the line as I was painting it is the simplest way I can explain the experience.

Circles / Enso

On the other hand, circles were a bit more easy, but doing them from the bottom of the` page and moving in a clockwise manner was a bit of a challenge.  My penmanship training was always start the number zero at the top, and create it by moving counterclockwise.  On a few pages, the paperweights did not hold, and so the paper got pulled along in the brush movement.

From circles and spirals, came a series of circles – some of which developed an incredible dynamic quality for me.

Bone Lines

Bone lines, used in kaisho, were especially difficult.  I watched videos from YouTube, simply to watch how the brush was manipulated.  Reading directions also created confusion.  Instructions in videos and in text books emphasize that the brush is held vertical to the paper.  To me, this means a 90 degree angle, perpendicular, not a tilt at all.  Then, watching, of course there is a tilt to the brush, but it is done through wrist manipulation.  Books say to keep the brush vertical, and then say “push the brush to the right” – well!  What does that mean??  I think I figured it out – some of my bone lines began to look like bone lines.

Dots

Finally, I could not just practice lines and circles.  I had to do something a bit different.  Yesterday I did dots – such as would be found with grapes – and various techniques with the brush.  Dots can be made by simply allowing the ink to be absorbed by the paper and spread, or by twirling the brush, to create a circle.

Brush Loading

Another technique is loading the brush in different ways.  In the picture below, you can see different methods.

In the picture above, there are three ways of loading the brush demonstrated.  The top one is the traditional light ink with the brush tipped in dark, and pulled at an angle across the paper.  The second one was an attempt to add dark ink to the top of the brush, near the handle, along with dipping it – this did not work out too well as I was stingy with the ink.  The third line, I was more generous, with both ink and water – the light middle line is visible to show the result.  Finally, the fourth line is the result of using a light wash for the brush, and then adding dark ink to the middle of the brush.  A rather nice effect.

Bouncing the Brush

I also practiced bouncing the brush, sort of tapping it and moving it along the paper.  The picture below demonstrates what can be done with this technique.

Copying the Master

Thoroughly warmed up now, I decided to see about copying a painting, using a video to copy and learn from techniques.  I admire the work of Kazu Shimura (see link to the right), who has over 70 videos on YouTube about sumi-e painting.  One I really enjoyed was his demonstration painting of hydrangeas.

Two totally different approaches to the same subject.  I went for the first one, and to do it with some rain.  These are my first attempts.  I did them from recall on what I saw, but I was not too pleased with my results.  Something was missing.

I did about 5 paintings altogether, but none of them worked.  So, I watched his first video again.  This time, my painting was far more pleasing than any of my other attempts.  Knowing full well I would fail at frogs, I did a snail.

And now?

It’s Friday, early evening.  I read a book today from the library – a rare treat – and then went out shopping for a computer desk.  I think tomorrow I am ready to begin the Heart Sutra.  It will be slow, maybe only one character, maybe a few more than that.  I think I will go page by page, as broken down on van Ghelue’s web page or from her book.  This past week I have spent about 20 hours painting in ink, and enjoying every minute!

Art of Ink, i

Yosa Buson

Now that I’ve pulled out my brush and sumi again, I start rummaging through the drawers of the internet.  I’m not quite sure how I found Yosa Buson, 1716-1784, but I did; I’d forgotten about him.  He was both a poet, and an artist, frequently combining the two.  As a painter in ink, his skills are more than evident in the work below.

Two Black Crows and a Hawk - in Snow and in Rain

Both Crows and Hawk show many techniques that allow expression of the elements in sumi-e.  Snow is painted by going around the flakes – dark ink makes the white flakes fly.  Rain is expressed by using a wide brush, such as a hake, that has been dipped in light / medium ink.  The ink is squeezed out by hand or blotted on towelling, and the bristles squished between the fingertips to create an uneven edge.  Rain is painted in one long sweep; two or three strokes may be all that is needed. These two paintings are very Japanese in approach to working with sumi.

Landscape with Solitary Traveler - 1780

In Landscape with Solitary Traveler, we have a more Chinese approach to ink painting. The theme and constructs are familiar – mountains, water, a path, a bridge, a pedestrian. As in Western painting, Asian painting has its own history and symbolism. The beauty is that these familiar subjects become personal and unique in the hands of the artist. This painting is done in ink, with only a touch of color added to the traveler.

As I mentioned, Buson also wrote traditional Japanese poetry. Here are some translations of his haiku.

coming back—
so many pathways
through the spring grass

in seasonal rain
along a nameless river
fear too has no name

more than last year
I now feel solitude
this autumn twilight

Before the white chrysanthemum
the scissors hesitate

Besides being a master of wash and line (in word and ink), Buson was quite funny. I came across this painting and could not help but laugh. And here, both painting and poetry mingle, albeit not too politely.  Dave Bonta writes about this picture quite well.  Understanding the language – and the humor in the translation – may be read about here.

Bonta translates the writing,

gakumon wa ketsu kara nukeru hotaru kana

as

All this study—
it’s coming out your ass, oh firefly!

Perhaps I should stop while I’m ahead . . .