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!
Quite some time ago, I wrote about brushes used in Asia. As I am beginning Saturday morning Japanese language classes, I am in conflict with time and distance in being able to attend my Chinese painting class. I’ll just have to figure that out later. However, the fact that I am learning hiragana, my preferred practice method is the traditional brush since I enjoy it so much. It is also said that the strokes used in Asian calligraphy are those used in Asian painting. Given that, I thought it would be worthwhile to review elements of holding the brush.
Holding the Brush Is Not the Same as Holding a Pen
When I was in school, penmanship was an important part of the daily curriculum. I practiced my penmanship from first grade through the eighth. My third grade teacher shamed me by saying “Any one who draws as well as you do should have good penmanship.” Ooops! In eighth grade I won a penmanship award. Over the years, I’ve collected a few manuals on the Palmer Method of penmanship, which is the basis of much of what I was taught in school. Today, penmanship has been replaced by other methods of handwriting – you might find this article amusing if you remember your penmanship classes.
Enough digressions. The fact is that Western culture teaches the student to hold the pen at a slant. These scans from an old Palmer Method manual show what I mean. Additionally, the writing surface is also at a slight angle, tilting gently toward the writer’s lap. Paper is also angled, so that an uphill slope is created for writing left to right.
Illustrations from various books, published in the US, Japan, China and elsewhere demonstrate how to hold the brush. Rather than the slanted wrist resting on the table, the brush is held perpendicular to the writing surface, which is not at all slanted. The forearm is held rather straight, yet relaxed. The brush may be held close to the bristles, or anywhere along the handle, all the way to the top. The paper is also straight, with the idea being writing is vertical, and there is no need for the paper to be slanted.
Ms. Kuroda Holding a Brush
Holding the Brush
Hand Position
To the right, you can see how to hold the brush. This illustration is from a Japanese book on sumi-e painting, and unfortunately the only thing I know about the author is that her name is Kuroda san.
Grip the Brush Gently and Focus Your Ki through the Brush Tip
Physically speaking, shodo [Japanese calligraphy] begins with the student’s grip on the brush. Unless a suitable technique of gripping is mastered, no advancement is possible . . . First, your elbow should not stick up or out to an excessive degree. This would only create an unsettling of the arm’s weight a s well as produce tension in the muscle of the arm and shoulder. This tension can cause your flow of ki to clog in the shoulders and not be effectively transmitted through the brush into the painting. This point is important, and various Japanese calligraphy authorities have made note of its significance.
At the same time, do not let your elbow sag or droop . . . when your elbow sags heavily toward the ground, it also tends to rub against the body and produces a cramped feeling that is expressed in your in your artwork. You should feel that your elbow is floating in a settled position a few inches from your body. (pgs. 76-77)
Sitting with the Brush
In my opinion, one of the very best books on sumi-e is Sumi-e Self Taught, by Kohei Aida. No longer in print, you might be able to find it through an online used book service; if you are interested, it was published in 1968, by Japan Publications, Inc., of Tokyo, Japan. The text is in English, which is very helpful. The best part of the book is that he shows the artist how to load the brush, how angle and roll it on the ink-water dish’s edge, and many subtleties not illustrated in most English-language sumi books.
Aida san shows how to sit in a western manner (upright at a table) while holding the brush. H.E. Davey’s book, Brush Meditation, also has several photos on posture and sitting.
Going back to my blurb on knitting, posture, and pain, I suggest that you concentrate on sitting upright and focus on bringing your shoulder blades back toward the spine. Don’t arch your back, but focus on a gentle backward movement of the shoulder blades, and a focus on a plumb-line approach to your spine. If you are sloppy like me, this will be unfamiliar, and uncomfortable because you may not do this naturally, and your muscles will not be happy. However, with time, it gets easier – I’m actually remembering to do it, and occasionally find I’m still upright later on . . .
In this position, you can move your arm as well as your wrist. Tighter movements will be done with the hand closer to the bristles, while holding the hand at the top of the brush gives a wonderful looseness in the stroke. In calligraphy, I expect these same results will apply. If you look at my post about painting the dragon you will also see that the brush can be held at different angles – sideways, for example. Aida san’s book demonstrates the same.
Aida san Demonstrates Brush Movement
Movement of the Brush
This illustration to the left, from Aida san’s book, shows how the brush may be tilted to achieve a brush stroke while painting. The hand and wrist may also be tilted to create curves, pressure may be applied at the end of the stroke, and gliding motions similar to an airplane landing and taking off can make thin-to-thick line, and vice versa. Ending a stroke with increasing pressure will also create a certain effect.
The Charles E. Tuttle Company has published wonderful art books about Japan. One book which has been in print since 1960 is Japanese Painting as Taught by Ukai Uchiyama, Kay Morrissey Thompson. The reason I mention this is because the next picture is for the artist sitting on the floor, in the traditional manner, to paint. At the same time you can see that the brush is being held very near the top of the handle. Looking at Uchiyama san’s work, you will notice a very loose, wild style which is, nonetheless, very controlled and lively. Mastery of the brush allows for this, and perhaps sitting on the floor adds to the process.
Ukai Uchiyama PaintingUchiyama Holding Brush
This detail of the photograph shows you how Uchiyama san holds his brush – just the same as Aida san, simply closer to the top of the handle. Practicing this yourself will help you understand the quality of stroke and control obtained by holding the brush at different levels along the handle. Certainly the closer your hand is to the bristles, the more minute control you have. Shoulder and arm movement are more restricted when in this position. Freedom and spontanenaeity increase with distance. However, without a knowledge of how to use the brush, this can be a study in frustration! So, focus yourself, breathe slowly and deeply. Imagine your energy flowing out of the brush tip – your ki – and with practice, your brush may dance with your soul.
Artist in Action
Once more, I believe videos can clearly demonstrate something which is difficult to explain with words. This video will show you how to hold a Chinese (or Japanese, or Korean, or whatever!) brush for calligraphy.
The following video is of the young Japanese artist / calligrapher, Koji Kakinuma. In particular, watch how he changes from thin to thick lines, as well as how he tilts the brush at different angles; you will observe this by observing the brush tip. When the brush is perpendicular to the paper, the tip must be considered to be the center of the line. Tilting the brush, increasing and decreasing pressure – sometimes all combined – vary the appearance of the stroke. Notice, too, that the bristles in the brush are longer in length than a painting brush. Soft, hard, and mixed-hair brushes may be used, each having its own qualities.
Finally, here is a video about the difference between calligraphy brushes and painting brushes.
Ink sticks – sumi sticks – are made in China and Japan, and most likely in Korea as well. Bottled ink is also available, but lacks many of the qualities preferred by traditional painters and calligraphers. Pouring ink from a bottle is not the same as being able to take the time grind a fine stick on a lovely stone, to enjoy the task, and focus one’s energy. Most ink is also poorly made, and contains chemicals which can damage a fine brush or stone. It is very important that if you do use bottled ink that you wash your brush thoroughly afterward, blot it, and reshape the point prior to hanging it to dry.
In this video, the artist Hirokazu Kosaka discusses ink sticks. While he does not go into great detail about their production, he does show some interesting elements of their construction and packaging. Opening a pawlonia wood box, he shows a “color” chart for the sumi stick. The light and dark capabilities of the ink are demonstrated on a piece of paper inside the box lid. He also shows the mold used to create the ink stick. Many ink sticks are embossed with symbols or pictures, which are later colored with gold or silver or colored paint.
The quality of a sumi stick varies, from very poor (as is most sold in the U.S.) to student grade, to professional. They also vary in size and shape, from very small to very large and colored. There is some argument as to which is better, the Japanese or Chinese; I have both and will say that the professional quality Japanese sumi is one I prefer. I also have some Chinese ink sticks, and their quality tends to fluctuate. Also, the Japanese ink tends to be a bluer-black color, while the Chinese ink is more brown-black. Both have their beauty.
According to Wikipedia:
Inksticks (Chinese: 墨 pinyin: mò; Japanese: 墨 sumi), sometimes known as sumi (Japanese transliteration), are a type of solid ink used traditionally in several East Asian cultures for calligraphy and brush painting. Inksticks are made mainly of soot and animal glue, sometimes with incense or medicinal scents added. To make ink from the inkstick, it has to be continuouly ground against an inkstone with a small quantity of water to produce a dark liquid which is then applied with an ink brush. Artists and calligraphists may vary the thickness of the resulting ink according to their preferences by reducing or increasing the intensity and time of ink grinding.m Sumi sticks after it has been used), and delivered.
Ink sticks need to age, just as wine. A well-made sumi stick may be very old and very valuable. Commercially, such ink sticks are available, but not readily in the U.S. or Europe. There are various importers, but as the market is limited, they are unlikely to carry the variety available in China or Japan.
Most ink sticks sold in the U.S. are inexpensive ones, whether originating from Japan or China. If you cannot grind a dark ink in a moderate amount of time, if there are grainy particles which scratch your stone, you do not have an ink stick worth using as far as I am concerned.
This video from Yang Hai Ying (“yanghaiying” on YouTube) gives a few more details about the manufacture of ink sticks:
And finally, another one by Yang Hai Ying showing both bottled and stick ink:
For us ink stick lovers, it would be sheer heaven to walk into a shop filled with ones to choose!
I have a small collection of inkstones / suzuri. A few I have paid a lot for (for me), and others have been incredibly inexpensive. Some are really poor as far as usefulness, some mediocre, and some surprisingly good for the small amount they cost. Several years ago I bought an excellent stone for $5.00 in an artist supply store. It is a real stone suzuri. Another one I bought a few years ago is not an outstanding stone, but a bit of work made it into a very usable stone. That is the subject of today’s entry.
The Phoenix Stone
I bought this stone on eBay about three years ago, paying about $15.00 for a stone which was never used. The gal I bought it from got it in Hong Kong about twenty years earlier, as a memento of her trip. That said, I wasn’t too sure about it, but liked the carving on it and bought it anyway. It must be understood that many inkstones are made for the tourist industry, are not usable, and most will not be worth more than use as a paper weight or other decorative item. This stone measures 5.25 x 8 inches (13.5 x 20 cm).
This stone is actually pretty good – much better than I expected. When it arrived, there was some sort of coating on it, which did not work at all well with hand grinding an inkstick. I decided to re-read some directions I got awhile back about how to make a stone usable – if it could be made usable at all. The goal was to remove the coating, try the stone, and then finish the stone’s grinding surface if necessary.
Buying a New Stone
When buying a stone to use, the first thing to look for in a stone is whether or not there is a slight glint, or sparkle, in the sun. Tilt the stone this way and that. What is needed is a bit of sparkle, and hopefully that sparkle is copper pyrite, which, according to my source in Japan, is necessary for good ink stick-ink stone connection. This stone has that glint.
Preparing to Refinish / Polish a New Inkstone or Suzuri
To refinish a suzuri is not difficult, though it might be rather scary if you like the stone. This inkstone was unused, so this description is for a new stone that does not seem optimal.
Because this stone was not dirty, with old ink stuck to it, I simply washed it soap and water, using Dawn dish detergent as it is good at cutting grease. I let it soak a bit in hot water, soapy water, and then used a 3M brand green scrubber on it. I did not apply a lot of pressure to the surface, but used just a gentle swirling motion. Once washed, I rinsed it, and let it dry a day before grinding sumi. The resulting ink was okay, but not particularly fine. The surface of the stone felt rather rough, so I decided to sand it down.
Polishing the Inkstone / Suzuri
Sandpaper is not to be used on an inkstone, but fine grit wet-dry paper is needed. This is usually a grey-colored paper, available in good hardware stores, and manufactured by 3M. It comes in varying grits, but to begin with, use nothing less than 600 or 800, and do the final polish with 1000-2000. What you choose to use will vary with the stone, and how much energy you want to put into it. I like a smoother finish, but with a coarse-grained stone will require a bit of gentle elbow grease. The paper shown is what I have used, and am pleased with the results.
Before you begin, run your fingertips over the surface of the stone. This way you will know what your stone feels like before beginning.
When I polish a stone, I go outside. With me comes a basin of water, the paper, the stone, an old bath towel, and table. Place the stone on the towel to protect the table, and to collect any dirty water from the sanding process. Put water on the stone’s surface, and using the coarser papers, begin rubbing the surface in light, circular movements. Don’t put a lot of pressure on the stone, but let the paper do its job. Proceed systematically over the entire surface. Rinse off the particles of stone and paper as needed in the basin of water as they accumulate, and continue. Test the surface of the stone with your fingertips – you should be able to feel the difference. Rinse off your stone, wash and rinse again, and let it dry.
Grind some ink, and notice the quality of the particles. Also notice the quality of your inkstick. If you have a poor inkstick it won’t produce particularly good ink – it will be coarse-grained, and take a long time to produce dark ink. There may be rough spots in it. These rough spots are impurities or contaminants, and can actually gouge your stone. Stop if you find something like this, pick it out, and try again. Remember – you can ruin a good stone with an inferior inkstick.
The key element is patience. Sand down the stone, wash and rinse it, let it dry. Run your fingers over the stone, checking for a smooth finish throughout the entire grinding surface. Try your ink. If you are content, stop. If you want a finer ink, continue using finer papers until you are pleased. Don’t try for a shiny, polished surface. There needs to be some “bite” on the surface for the inkstick so it may be ground into fine particles.
The Phoenix Arises!
I spent a few days polishing out this stone. I used several grits of paper on it before I was content. This stone produces a dark ink in a fairly short amount of time. The surface is flat, without puddling, and the well holds a nice amount of water. Because there is no slope on the stone, I use the water to dilute ink when painting. I add water from a suiteki or sucky-cup (plastic cup with a built-in straw, made by Rubbermaid) in small amounts as I grind ink. The large grinding surface makes for a relaxing “grind” – small surfaces make me tense up.
This stone has a rather greasy quality to it, which is why it is not one of my favorite stones. I expect it has something to do with the type of stone it is. Little spots of white appear on its surface for no known reason. Nonetheless, a stone which was not at all usable, in my opinion, has become functional, and under the right circumstances, pleasurable to use.
Tomorrow I will be heading down to the Huntington Library with a friend. This is a rather pleasant, serendipitous excursion because while in South Pasadena, at Gus’s, I saw a poster for this exhibit, Treasures through Six Generations: Chinese Painting and Calligraphy from the Weng Collection. In the back of my mind I thought it would be worthwhile seeing, but not sure if I could organize my life enough to get to it. The biggest intimidation factor is I just don’t like driving in L.A. traffic! I’ll be meeting up with my excursion buddy in the valley, and as I am driving the first half, chauffering will be provided the rest of the way.
The Weng Collectionhas an interesting history behind it. According to the press release of Feb.23, 2009 from Huntington:
The history of the Weng family and their art collection reads like an epic novel, mirroring the tumult of 19th- and 20th-century China and its ensuing diaspora. Assembled primarily in the second half of the 19th century, the collection is legendary not only for its superb selection—it contains masterpieces of brush and ink spanning 900 years—but also for the remarkable individuals who have been responsible for its formation and safe-keeping. The works of art have survived repeated dynastic changes, protracted warfare, and journeys across continents, remaining almost miraculously unscathed under the care of this family.
The Weng collection has been in the same family for six generations, beginning with Weng Xincun (1791–1862). Xincun’s son Weng Tonghe (1830–1904) and the collection’s current owner, Wan-go Weng (b. 1918), are particularly celebrated for their remarkable achievements.Weng Tonghe, the family patriarch who formed the nucleus of the collection,was a preeminent figure in late Qing China.He rose to prominence when he placed first in the 1856 metropolitan exams for the jinshi degree and became a zhuangyuan (“First Scholar of the Nation,” as Wan-go Weng likes to say). Weng went on to tutor two emperors, Tongzhi (r.1862–74) and Guangxu (r. 1875–1908). The latter studied with him for a total of 24 years and regarded him as his closest adviser. In addition, Weng also held some of the highest positions in the government. He is remembered in history as the leader of the pro-war faction during the Sino-Japanese war in 1894–1895 and, through his introduction of the radical reformer Kang Youwei (1858–1927) to Guangxu, for his early influence on the emperor’s Hundred Days’Reform in 1898.
Weng Tonghe’s collection was passed down to Wan-go Weng, who brought it to the United States in 1948. Wan-go Weng is himself a modern-day Renaissance man—filmmaker,poet, scholar and civic leader—whose English films and publications on Chinese history and art have been widely influential among both scholars and general readers. Under his leadership in the mid 1980s, the New York–based China Institute rebuilt its reputation as one of the leading centers for the promotion of Chinese culture in the United States . . . .
The gardens at the Huntington Library are renown. There are themed gardens, such as a Chinese one which is a perfect parallel for the Weng exhibit, a Japanese garden, a desert garden, a Shakespeare garden, and more. If you want to see what is in bloom, for instance, this month, you can click here.
I’ve lived in California most of my adult life, within close proximity of the Huntington – never more than 100 miles – but this is my first trip, and I’m as excited as a kid going to Disneyland!
Ink, Yarn & Beer 