If you have been following this blog of late, you know I have been – and am – in a funk. Being discontented with one’s life can lead to getting lost amongst the lemmings, or choosing the proverbial other road. I don’t really need to do one or the other, in a way; what I need to do is to make the choice!
Last night I went out with a friend – one of those great friends where no holds are barred, and you can just ramble and expose your thoughts and feelings without being afraid. We both were into it, and I came home feeling really good – refreshed mentally. So did she. Working so late and so long has prevented my having much contact with people I like, and now try to do something like this on a weekly basis. I’m stealing back all the little pieces of my life that disappeared over the past year.
Sure, the argument can be made that I shouldn’t have let it happen, but the fact is, it did happen. There is only so much time in the day. And there is only so much energy, too. As an introvert, “me time” has to be there before I can deal with people and be a nice person. No “me time” and I have no idea who I am.
Somewhere in the dark recesses of sleep, probably as my subconscious was working through whatever it does in dreams, the elusive word – the one-word description for what I am trying to regain – came to me: Integrity.
Today, I am going to begin a brief series on a rather lovely set of books, published by Motoi Oi (1910-2004) shortly after his arrival in the U.S. Initially paperback books, self-published and handbound by his wife using traditional Japanese binding, much of his work was consolidated into hardback by the Japan Publication Trading Co. in Tokyo.
The Society was created in New York in 1963 by Professor Motoi Oi to foster and encourage an appreciation of East Asian brush painting. For the initial fifteen years (1963-1978) its annual exhibitions were held in New York City. Over the years, the Society has grown and there are many chapters in the United States and a sister organization in Canada.When asked why he had started the Sumi-e Society, Mr. Oi answered, in part, “In the East, paintings reflect the great joy of culture. They are a reflection of an intense personal idiom. My idea was to provide a means through which the fresh, new spirit of American culture could be viewed in Sumi-e.”
Professor Oi was born in Japan and in 1958 he emigrated to the U.S.A. where he worked as a printmaker, painted, wrote books on Sumi-e painting and taught art at Queens College , New York City and the Brooklyn Institute of Art and Science.
In 1981, Mr. Oi was awarded the 6th class of the Order of the Rising Sun for his work in US-Japan cultural relations.
Oi Sensei
Oi himself writes on the inside cover flap of this book:
What is sumi-e? Is is so simple an art form that a novice can literally pick up a brush and start painting right away. Yet, it intrigues even those whoc spend their lifetimes studying it. In this book, Mr. Oi introduces to the beginners the fundamental techniques of sumi-e and describes its spirit, which plays the most important part, in terms of … Zen Buddhism … a mystic religion of extreme self-discipline and concentration. The importance of its [sumi’e’s] spirit is, however, too often ignored, and the craze for this art is usually based on a complete misunderstanding, the result being a mere imitation of its superficial features.
Given this, I am not even going to approach the spirit behind Mr. Oi’s books; rather, that is up to the individual artist and reader to explore. Instead, I think it is interesting to read the book and consider what is said. For instance, in the above edition, concerning rough sketches, he writes, “in following a rough sketch, painting becomes a matter of technique and hence loses the fresh, spontaneous feeling. Therefore I do not recommend it.” What does this mean? To me, it says it is best to look at each subject as something totally new and unexperienced. It also says to consider the subject in advance – light, dark – and to consider the approach to the painting in terms of brush stroke, ink gradation, how the brush will be loaded. This, of course, comes through practice of lines, circles, and other techniques, such as illustrated below.
Mastery in any art or craft means mastery of its tools. Here, ink, brush, paper, water. It also means mastery of the self, in whatever way it means to you, the painter, the artist, the craftsman. I rather like these paragraphs from his “Notes on Sumi-e” found at the end of the book:
The ability to think is what produces a good Sumi-e. A dexterous hand may turn out a mechanically excellent picture but not a true Sumi-e in spirit.
Pick up a Fude with a deep sense of humility. Free your mind of arrogance and hostility. You are not out to conquer Sumi-e. Rather, you want to be one with it. There should be neither a victory nor a defeat. Complete union is the ultimate goal.
Sumi-e is a mirror to your mind. It, however, surpasses mere reflection by rendering an image free of frills and pretense. Only the bare truth is reproduced on a sheet of paper.
I wonder, myself, just how this might be judged by others. For me, I know when I have accomplished this, free of the monkey mind; I can look at my painting and know it is well done. But do others see it? I think we are all prejudiced by our moods, likes, dislikes, current preferences. Certainly what appears good today may seem like a horror the next. As we are not static, perhaps this undulation of appreciation – this seeming fickleness – is actually a very, very good thing.
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!
Mastery in any art or craft means mastery of its tools. Here, ink, brush, paper, water. It also means mastery of the self, in whatever way it means to you, the painter, the artist, the craftsman. I rather like these paragraphs from his “Notes on Sumi-e” found at the end of the book:
From circles and spirals, came a series of circles – some of which developed an incredible dynamic quality for me.
Bone Lines
Copying the Master
And now?
Ink, Yarn & Beer 