Tag: sumie

The Four Treasures: Ink, i

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!

The Four Treasures: Inkstone / Suzuri, v

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.

Excursion: Treasures through Six Generations

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 Collection has 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!

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.

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.