After reflecting on my practice and how I am feeling about the world at the moment, I have decided to express my grief through my art. I was very touched by the book ‘Grief is the thing with feathers’ and the author describes a crow that comes to visit as a metaphor for grief. So for the time being, I am going to work with crows and feathers.
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METHOD
When rethinking and reflecting on my practice, I realised that drawing was a comforting process for me so I started with some drawings of crows. I decided to draw with my left/non-dominant hand because:
– I enjoy it because I feel energised by the feeling of not being fully in control in my making;
– I want the mark making to be more loose and expressive which I find easier to achieve with my non-dominant hand;
– The feeling of not being in control is a good metaphor for how I feel about the change in world order at the moment.
Another reason for drawing crows was to study their faces and anatomy as preparation for future work. Below are some crow drawings made with my non-dominant hand:
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I then made one in Chinese ink but with my right/dominant hand:
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Two study drawings of crow feathers with my dominant hand:
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As I was drawing the feathers, I thought about making an installation with feathers. I thought of a crow feathers curtain reflecting my obscured view as a result of the grief I feel at the moment. Below are my sketches about this idea:
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Then I returned to more crow drawings:
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REFLECTIONS
I have enjoyed the drawings and indeed found the process comforting. I liked the outcome of the non-dominant hand drawings but was not so happy with the Chinese ink painting made with my dominant hand. The latter came out too neat and didn’t have the energy of the non-dominant hand drawings. This was an outcome that I expected and remain deeply frustrated about – I just cannot seem to achieve the same looseness with my dominant hand. I think I have to accept that and consider how I use both of my hands in different situations to create different effects. But I am concerned that as my non-dominant hand becomes dominant through practice then it would lose that ‘magic’. I know I am overthinking now and I shall deal with it as I go along.
I have thought a lot about the idea of the ‘grief curtain’ installation. I have researched the materials to be used, such as a chain curtain, a walk-through frame to hand the curtain and also where to source crow feathers. The latter in particular is an area that I am not familiar with at all. During the low residency week, one of my course mates suggested an artist for me to look at:
MccGwire is well known for her sculptures made of feathers. I will take more time to research and study her work.
LEARNING
This is the start of a set of new work as a result of rethinking my practice after my recent tutorial where we discussed how I was feeling about the drastic change in world order. I have chosen grief as a topic to reflect the sense of loss that I feel. I have chosen crows and feathers as a way to express the grief inspired by the book ‘Grief is the thing with feathers’. I started with drawings as a form of comfort as I ‘ease’ into this new exploration for my practice.
The drawings have confirmed that I prefer the expressive mark making done by my left hand and remain frustrated with the neatness of my right hand! Thinking about which hand to use for which part of my making adds complexity but it’s a new way of thinking and making that I think I will enjoy.
This is a start and I will continue to explore the topic. I am still interested in the ‘grief curtain’ concept and will keep it in my ‘ideas bank’ for now.
During my recent tutorial, we discussed how the world events are affecting how I felt about my art practice. The change in world order made me not want to do bright and colourful paintings like my recent Family Dinner paintings as they now seemed frivolous with the destructions going on. I also talked about my sense of helplessness as an artist. Therefore, I am in the stage of reconsidering my practice – what do I want it to be about? I have always positioned my art practice as about identity exploration, starting with my personal identity and I started (chronologically) from my childhood in Hong Kong (e.g. the Cheongsam and Family Dinners etc.).
REFLECTIONS
– The feeling of ‘Voicelessness’ as an artist – see separate blog. I think I have worked through that one for now. Briefly – I believe my choice of being an artist (vs my previous position as a business leader within a commercial organisation) gives me much more freedom but with an unknown and unpredictable audience as there is no defined platform for communication. So having reflected on that, I do really value the freedom of voice that I have now. I just need to work out what to do with it.
– How to deal with the current feelings of despair for the change in world order? I can’t ignore it but I don’t want to directly confront it in my art practice because I would risk ranting and being too in-your-face rather than communicating and expressing sensitively and intelligently.
– So I thought about satire and actually went through the process of creating character metaphors that I would use ( one is a turkey eating French fries and the other a loaf of cheap white bread) but I decided against satire because it would require me to closely study those characters which I don’t want to do as I need to preserve my sanity.
After much thinking and reflecting, I decided to focus on how I feel instead which is anger, heartbreak and grief. Grief for the loss of a world order with values that I understood. It was not perfect at all but there was at least an established sense of right and wrong (usually according to the law); where helping the needed was applauded. I grieve for the loss of all that and more. I grieve for all the vulnerable people who will suffer even more or lose their lives and I grieve for those who have made it their mission to help but are now suddenly left helpless and scrambling for themselves. I am not against change and efficiently, but the destructive way of execution has been brutal – unnecessarily.
I am likening my feelings and others that I know who are going through the ‘world order change process’ as going through the Kubler-Ross grief cycle.
I find myself oscillating around Anger, Bargaining and Depression depending on what new (and shocking) information comes to light on a particular day. But unlike grieving for the loss of a loved one, I feel it’s not acceptable to reach acceptance which is a problem because I am therefore stuck in the perpetual grief cycle until ‘the show is over’.
So I decided to use my art practice to express the grief that I am feeling. I know (and hope) that it is just a temporary state because I believe I am a naturally optimistic person and I want to return to feeling hopeful about the future of humankind.
I remember the book ‘Grief is the thing with feathers’ by Max Porter where a father and two young boys grieved for the death of their lost wife/mother. Grief was portrayed as a crow. The short novel was written creatively in a way that helped me to picture the crow vividly. Inspired by the novel, I want to do something with crows and feathers in my art practice to express the grief I’m feeling right now for the world.
Other reasons for choosing crows:
– They are intelligent (compared to other bird species and mammals) but ‘voiceless’ as they can only caw (according to the human ears). I feel that is a good metaphor for how I feel as a ‘voiceless’ artist and perhaps how many artists feel in the world right now.
– Crow feathers are interesting in colour and texture. I want to explore further in my art making.
– I have always been fascinated by crows and they were once the subject of a personal project in my Chinese painting practice. So somehow I feel a connection with them.
LEARNING
So what does it all mean for my art practice?
It would be useful to think about ‘the fluid circle’ that was discussed during my tutorial – I go in and out of a fluid circle depending on how able I feel in responding to the world events.
– Inside the circle is retreat mode – coming inside the circle to hide from the world and have time-out. When I’m in that mode, I want to work on things that are simpler or more familiar for comfort. I can do drawings which I find comforting, or explore photography and the new objectivity approach to give relief through working with facts and an established process; letting the process take control momentarily.
– Outside the circle is confront mode – where reality is faced and dealt with. It could be energising but likely to be draining. The most useful and manageable thing to work on there right now is dealing with that feeling of grief and work out how to channel that into my work. Therefore I have been thinking about doing art with crows and feathers.
Is this a deviation from my main practice? I have been thinking about this a lot. If my practice is about identity, then I believe reflecting on one’s state of mind is a key part of that identity exploration. So having done much thinking about this, I feel comfortable that what I am doing here remains part of my soul searching – just instead of exploring the past (my heritage), I am exploring the ‘right here’ and ‘right now’ for me.
What about the Cheongsam dresses? I have had such positive feedback from my MA course mates during the low residency week that I feel I should do some more with the dresses especially for the degree show. Perhaps make a dress with crow feathers? Many Cheongsam dresses are decorated with dragons and phoenix, so perhaps a crow instead?
NEXT STEPS
– Just make art depending on how I feel in the moment. Do something with crows and feathers to release and express the grief as well as create time to think about the future.
– Keep thinking about what else I can do with feathers, perhaps Cheongsam dresses and possible installations.
– Give space and time for the thinking.
ADDITIONAL NOTES – CONSIDERATIONS FOR MY STUDY STATEMENT
Since I am rethinking my practice, I revisited my Study Statement to see how my new exploration proposed here would impact my planned study. I feel that my Methodology and the Outcomes would remain unchanged. My aims and objectives were strongly focused on transculturalism and the work proposed here (exploring my currently feeling of grief and loss of world order) would not fall into that topic. However, within my Study Statement, my main goal was to explore my identity and I believe exploring my current state of mind falls well within that – it is all part of me and my lived experience. In my Statement, I also referred to wanting to expand my practice to explore wider societal issues including feminism and power structures – I believe my response to the current global political situations falls within this remit. To incorporate the new exploration into my study, I should consider adding some new ‘aims and objectives’ to ensure I remain on track with my study goals.
After reflecting on the overall work plan, I believe it remains valid and on track. One of the key aims of my study was to find convergence in my practice with the parallel development of my narrative and style that I started the course with. I believe I have achieved that (or at least have found a way to achieve it) in my Cheongsam series of work and I had written in my blog at the time stating that I was delighted to have found a way to converge the two strands through the Cheongsam dress canvases. Therefore I believe there is room in Unit 3 to accommodate an additional set of aims and objectives that have now become pressing for me.
NEXT STEPS
Consider additional aims and objectives for the newly proposed exploration.
COMPLETED ADDITIONAL OBJECTIVES
The following two pages have been added to my Study Statement:
After the first experiment on weaving narratives (see link below), I decided to do a second experiment, this time with two paintings that were more representative of the different cultural narratives that I want to weave together and also very different style of work just to see what happens. Also, an action from the last experiment was to choose smaller paintings to speed up the experiment.
Plum blossoms, Chinese brush painting – ink on rice paper, cut to size A3.
Paper edges were added to both paintings so that the cuts could be made up to the edge of the image whilst keeping all the strips together at one end in a neat order. This makes the weaving process easier.
Video of cutting the acrylic painting which seemed to have attracted more views on my social media than other work. Also, four times more non-followers seemed to have engaged with this clip than usual.
I enjoyed the cutting process very much. It felt brutal but energising, liberating and renewing. The weaving process was enjoyable for me as it involved crafting with my hands. The delicate manoeuvring of strips of my painting during the weaving felt very different to the cutting process. It was strange to feel that I had to be very careful during the weaving when I have just taken a big pair of scissors to the work minutes earlier. The juxtaposition of the different feelings was interesting.
I am not too excited about the outcome though. I don’t think the woven painting created the interesting or intriguing effect that I had hoped for. The negative space from the Chinese painting introduced a lot of white into the image and obscured much of the harbour-scape rendering it not recognisable but without introducing intrigue.
Reflecting on this and the previous woven painting experiment, I am not sure if I want to pursue the weaving part much further. To really make something of it, I would need to have a good think about how the two images need to come together, how the negative spaces and colour palettes would combine to create a coherent image – even if it’s not coherent aesthetically, it needs to create intrigue or tension. As it is, I feel the images don’t provide enough to engage me, let alone a viewer. However, I feel there is good potential with the cutting process. It was an exciting process that I would like to explore further.
After cutting the paintings into strips, I played with waving or jangling the strips and they danced on the table. That was fun and I liked the images from the movements. However, once they were woven together, the images became ‘flat’ and ‘too neat’. Perhaps I can explore the dancing of the strips and do something with either just one painting or multiple paintings and then let the strips just fall down together and see what happens. Perhaps I can make videos of them dancing and collapsing together. As a metaphor, from my experience as a transcultural person, bringing together two different cultures is rarely neat and tidy, it requires improvisation and often people and situations are just ‘thrown together’ and one never knows what might happen. So perhaps the neat weaving was not such an appropriate metaphor as it seems too restrictive in hindsight.
LEARNING
It has been a good learning experience to weave together paintings. I learnt that I enjoyed the cutting up process, I enjoyed the weaving process but I am not taken by the outcome. The outcome appeared too neat and restrictive for the subject. Therefore, I don’t think I will do anymore ‘neat’ weaving of cut up paintings. Unless I am stuck for something to do in between projects and want to keep busy because it is a good way of keeping busy to enable some thinking time while making. I find the crafting processes are very enabling in a way to create thinking space and time.
What I will continue to explore is the cutting up process because I find that energising and renewing. I want to explore what else I could do with strips of painting, just play and explore and let them dance. I could do some video of their movements and create images from that. E.g. I can pile several paintings together and see how they fall together, or let each strip free-fall individually from height and film their movements in slow motion. It would be good to just to explore without any prior agenda. That can be liberating. I can try a filming project with an already cut up painting (to save cutting up another painting for the moment), I can un-weave one of the woven paintings then letting the strips free-fall, like untangling narratives and then setting them free. I can think about a narration to accompany the video or pair with music.
Think about using the green satin bamboo painting because the soft and light materials could float nicely onto the ground. Think about what background – white cube or outdoors? Perhaps an industrial background from the old Bristol docks? The delicate satin materials could be a good juxtaposition with the old heavy duty cranes by the harbour. The strips could fall inside the intricate metal structure of the cranes.
NEXT STEPS
Pause the ‘neat’ weaving of paintings for now, unless I want to use the process to enable thinking time.
Untangle a woven painting, set the strips (narratives) free in a free-falling way. Film their falling and piling up on the ground, if possible, do outdoors e.g. by the old Bristol dock.
Continue to explore cutting of paintings and see what that could add to my practice.
During my recent presentation on my research paper to my fellow students, I was asked why I talked about being transcultural and not intercultural. I talk about my transculturalism because I see it as a fusion process (as borrowed from physics) where two cultures come together and something completely new emerges (as per the definition by Homi K Bhabha). However, interculturalism is also applicable where I believe is when different cultures come together and intersect. It’s a process of weaving together rather than a fusion. I have not explored much about weaving cultures together although that is very much what I also do to navigate life. So I decided to investigate ways to weave my art to explore the idea of intercultural vs transcultural.
METHOD
I chose two of my existing paintings for this project. To weave them together, I would need to cut them up first.
First chosen painting for cutting up – a piece of work from three years ago, Chinese ink on rice paper on inkjet printed paper:
I did some quick research on the definition of intercultural. The Spring Institute said, ‘Intercultural describes communities in which there is a deep understanding and respect for all cultures. Intercultural communication focuses on the mutual exchange of ideas and cultural norms and the development of deep relationships.’ Many definitions describe intercultural as the coming together of a group of people of different cultures. From the quick research, I did not find any reference to the intercultural experience occurring within one person. I.e. when one person experiences and navigates different cultures within their daily existence.
To help explain my thinking about intercultural vs transcultural, I need to borrow an analogy from A Level chemistry – the definition of a mixture vs a compound.
Mixtures are heterogeneous forms of matter. The composition of a mixture is variable with each components retaining its characteristic properties. Its components are easily separated. Examples of Mixtures: soil, ocean water, air, the cytosol of a cell.
In contrast, compounds are homogeneous forms of matter. The components of a compound do not retain their individual properties. E.g. both sodium and chlorine are poisonous; their compound, table salt (NaCl) is absolutely safe and essential to life. Another example of compounds is water (H2O).
It takes large inputs of energy to separate the components of a compound. Similarly, I have previously used the fusion concept from physics to explain the forming of transcultural characteristics. Fusion takes an immense amount of energy to take place. So learning from the analogies from science, I believe that for a transcultural person to go through the cultural transmutation process, it takes much energy and also time for the process to take place. Whereas I do believe that one can start to adapt to an intercultural life more readily. For example, an immigrant child moving to the UK with her family from say, Asia, could be adopting a full British style life at school during the day, then go home after school and be immersed back in her original culture in the home environment. That in my opinion is a form of an intercultural life.
REFLECTIONS
So where am I going with this?
Although I’m using science as analogies to explain intercultural vs transcultural, I am not asserting those thoughts as a definitive explanation, that would be grossly generalising and reductive. They are just ways of sense-making for me and to help me to think through the different cultural concepts. I could do more in depth academic research on the subject and I may well do so later. But for now, I am enjoying the thinking process based on my own experiences as I make art. I don’t believe I am anywhere near having answers, but I have started the thinking process on the subject.
How about the weaving? What did I get out of it?
My weaving experiment here was more of a technical exploration to see what happens when two paintings were woven together with a view of taking the learning to future works. Some questions that I asked myself in reflection were:
– How was the weaving process? It was quite easy and straightforward to execute, but that was because the width of each strip was fairly wide so quite easy to handle. I would like to try and weave with narrower or more irregular strips to challenge the process and create a less uniform pattern.
– What did I think of the outcome aesthetically? I wanted to see if the individual painting images would still be present but more ambiguous. I think I could say yes to this – I could make out the two original images but with missing details adding intrigue.
– How about the cutting process? That was very interesting! The cutting up of my paintings felt brutal but liberating. To not feel too precious about one’s work was definitely liberating. In previous blogs I’ve talk about how I valued the process of making more than the outcome. Once a piece of work is made, I usually feel quite detached about the piece of work. So I hope I will be prepared to cut up more paintings to investigate the weaving of work. Also, the cutting process helped me to release some of the anger and despair that has been building up for me regarding certain global issues going on right now.
– What am I really trying to achieve by the weaving process? I have struggled for some time to express my transculturality through my art. I have written about this before calling it the elusive ‘green’. I kept painting with blue and yellow (metaphorically) but couldn’t yield a satisfactory green. Meaning that I couldn’t come up with something that represented my transcultural / fusion process. When I was asked by my classmate ‘why not intercultural ?’, it occurred to me that interculturalism is also applicable to me, perhaps if I start with that, I might get more insight into the transculturality that I want to express. Imagine if the width of the cut-up painting strips were so narrow that the two images eventually became one, then that would be like a fusion process, or a ‘chemical compound’ would have been created where it’s no longer easy to separate or decipher the two original images. Hence like something new emerging in the third space.
Taking this idea further, I have in the last two years explored much about my transculturality, however, that is only a part of my identity. I consider myself a Hong Kong born British Chinese engineer artist woman business-leader and mother. In examining my identity as a transcultural person, I have not yet explored the dynamics between the engineer and the artist; or the experience of a woman and mother; or my voice as a business-leader vs that as an artist. In an earlier blog, I talked about wanting to re-explore an area that I have found comfort in the past (new objectivity industrial art). How do I combine that desire/need with my ongoing transcultural practice? They seem very different but are all part of me and my identity.
LEARNING
Since I exist in the intersection of multiple aspects of my life, I need to consider how I broaden my identity exploration beyond the current transcultural perspective. I cannot think of how I can express the different identity elements whilst remaining coherent. Perhaps I can make paintings about the different elements and then weave them together to see what images emerge. E.g. weaving together a Bristol streetscape with a Chinese ink painting, or an oil painting of my childhood family dinner with my expression of womanhood. What would that look like? This means instead of creating one image that embodies the different aspects of my intersectionality (like in Akunyili Crosby’s work as described in my research paper) which I have struggled to create satisfactorily, I can create multiple images and weave them together to see what comes out. This doesn’t mean I will adopt the weaving of paintings as a main process for my practice, but it might give me ideas and inspiration to create images (more abstract and ambiguous images) to express my overall identity. Importantly, it gives me a way forward when I’m feeling somewhat stuck with the complexity of too many ideas.
NEXT STEPS
– Cut up two more paintings with narrower strips then weave them together to see how the overall image develops. Use smaller size paintings like A4 so the experimental process can be quicker.
– If the above experiment is successful, then think about what to paint to really explore the different aspects of my identity and then weave the works together to see what comes out.
I had a tutorial with an Academic Support tutor from CSM and we discussed painting. I talked about one of my favourite transcultural artists Njideka Akunyili Crosby. I talked about how in awe I felt when I saw her large diptych at Tate Modern last year. The tutor suggested that I made a painting to respond to the work.
Akunyili Crosby’s work at Tate:
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METHOD
I printed out Akunyili Crosby’s work to give me inspiration. A board canvas was chosen.
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A thin acrylic wash of mixed colours was applied to cover the canvas.
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A line from a Chinese Tang Dynasty poem was chosen and written onto the canvas in Chinese ink to add some extra images onto the background. The line translates as – in life, when times are good, really celebrate.
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Then very thin layers of oil paint were applied loosely with brushes. The canvas was kept vertically for the paint to run down.
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A piece of textured rag was used to experiment with creating patterns:
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Work in progress, playing:
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Playing some more:
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Close up images to show the ragging effect. The oil was so thin that the background images were still coming through:
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But what to paint?
I decided to paint the ‘lone sofa’ photograph that I took when I went on a photography walk-about in Bristol. That was my favourite photo of the trip.
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The canvas was put into portrait orientation.
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Charcoal was used to layout the composition, choosing what to keep and what to leave out from the photo image.
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Close-up of areas of the finished painting:
A pile of rubbleA tree in winter
Finished painting:
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REFLECTIONS
The oil experiments were not as useful as I had wanted – the outcomes were pretty much as expected and I can’t say I made much new discovery. So I need to do more research on this rather than just play.
The Chinese characters in the background were mostly hidden in the end. Again I could have used thinner oil. Or in this case, I feel it’s fine to obscure the background and use the Chinese characters as abstract patterns rather than to convey specific meaning.
The sofa scene – I mentioned in the last blog that I wasn’t feeling colourful so I opted for muted grey tones. That feels appropriate for this scene especially given the original photo was monochrome. I enjoyed the painting process which I tend to do most of the time. It was useful to focus on what to take out from the image composition, trying the less is more approach.
The piece of folded torn foam mattress on the floor was quite successful and also the pile of rubble. I think what was going through my mind was a dystopian scene and I wanted to create a dystopian effect to reflect my despair about the rapid change in world order, not sure if I really got that effect.
Although I started with wanting to do a response to Akunyili Crosby’s work. The outcome was quite far from that original intention. I think it’s because I made this painting over several weeks and my state of mind changed over that period and what I started off wanting to do didn’t seem relevant in the end. So I am comfortable with the change in direction.
LEARNING
To get more out of my exploration of oil, I need to do some research work, either online (YouTube) or books to gain new knowledge so I can take my experimentation to the next level.
It was only when I reflected afterwards that I was going for a dystopian theme. Perhaps if I had thought of that at the start then I could have created more of a dystopian atmosphere. I can research more about dystopian art. But how does that fit in with my transcultural practice? Should I go off on this tangent right now to risk having an incoherent body of work?
NEXT STEPS
Do research on oil painting techniques to learn new ways to use oil.
Do research on dystopian artists to see if that’s the vibe that I want to reflect my state of mind right now.
Following on from my Unit 2 feedback, I wanted to explore more ways of using oil. Also, from some photography work, I wanted to incorporate more photos into my work. So I started a new piece of work without knowing what I was going to do.
METHOD
I made some black and white inkjet prints of various photos, some old family photos from Hong Kong and some recent Bristol streetscapes that I took with a medium format camera. Since it was around Chinese New Year time, I put in an image of a traditional Chinese Lion used for festive lion dance. I wanted to make that a dominant feature of the composition for the new year.
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I used dispersion liquid to transfer the images onto a primed canvas:
Prints being stuck down using dispersion liquid
Printed images transferred onto the canvas. Due to the inkjet printer image, there was a pink / magenta tint to the transferred images.
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The canvas was covered in a thinned down acrylic wash:
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Charcoal was used to mark out the composition with the Lion being prominent.
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Some iconic buildings from my childhood Hong Kong were added to the background.
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The lion head was painted in oil. But I was not happy with it, it looked too ‘cute’.
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Since this was an experiment in oil, I started to wipe off parts of the image to create different effects.
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A pile of mandarin oranges were added as a traditional Chinese custom during New Year. I wanted to add typical Chinese New Year food to the composition in response to my decision after the Cheongsam series to do some Chinese food painting on a ‘normal’ 2D canvas:
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I experimented with using looser brushstrokes and some thinned oil for the oranges:
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I was still very unhappy with the lion and decided to replace it with a complete family dinner with symbolic dishes for Chinese New Year.
Charcoal marks for New Year food dishes
Thinned oil paint was used to mark out the shapes of the various dishes. Then more details were added to the fish first:
–Close up of fish (stuffed dace fish)
Other dishes were added:
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The prawns’ details were finished with Chinese ink and a peach blossom branch was added (also in Chinese ink) as it was traditional to have this plant at every home in Chinese New Year.
Finished painting – Chinese New Year dinner:
Mixed media on canvas. Size 102×75 cm
Menu:
Centre – stuffed dace fish. Symbol for having surplus meaning never falling short (of money). The word ‘fish’ sounds like surplus.
Top right – stew of shiitake mushrooms, dried oysters, pork belly and spring onions in fermented bean sauce. A traditional new year dish, a large pot is usually made and eaten over several days. ‘Dried oyster’ sounds like ‘good things’ meaning good things will happen.
Bottom right – prawns. Symbol for happiness. ‘Prawn’ sounds like laughter.
Bottom left – mountain of mandarin oranges with a red money packet (lai see), the phrase sounds like ‘gold mountain’ meaning good fortune.
Top left – peach blossoms, the blossoms opening signifies good luck and good fortune.
REFLECTIONS
I am glad I didn’t continue with the lion. It was not how I wanted as it was too detailed and cute. I was happier when the Chinese dinner idea started to develop. I was mindful that I wanted to experiment with Qi Baishi’s idea of painting between likeness and unlikeness. I was hoping the thinner paint and looser brushstrokes would give me more scope to express the unlikeness. I think I made some progress compared to the Family Dinners on the Cheongsam canvases, but there’s still some way to go.
I experimented with incorporating photographs but I think in the end they didn’t really add anything as most of the images were covered up. Perhaps even thinner oil would have left the photo images still partially visible.
I have never managed to combine oil and Chinese ink satisfactorily, I think using the combination on the prawns worked out well. I believe the thinned down oil helped the combination to work so worth bearing this in mind.
LEARNING
Try experimenting with even thinner oil paint and other techniques to apply paint.
Think more about what I want the photos to do (e.g. how much to be revealed) if incorporating photo images, then dilute the paint accordingly to achieve the effect. The experiment here was not fully thought through as I was just playing, but it provided good insight into how easily it was to fully obscure the photos.
Overall the painting was looser and less organised compared to Cheongsam Family Dinners, but I need to be more courageous about achieving unlikeness. Add more of myself to it and think about what feelings and intentions I have – not intentions regarding the composition, but what I’m trying to say.
NEXT STEPS
Experiment more with oil and different applications.
As part of my research to progress my painting practice, I am reading this book about Qi Baishi’s artwork and philosophy:
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Below are some key points and notes I made from reading the text.
Poetry and soul in painting:
Within poetry there is painting; within painting, poetry.
A poet loves the moon and plum blossoms because his heart exists in moonlight and flower fragrance. Moon and plum blossoms are things on which he pins his heart and soul.
The mood of the painting comes from thinking which in turn comes from images.
The limited brush work in the painting evolves and extends continuously according to the logic of life and imaginative logic.
The artist’s mood cannot be fully expressed in the painting; only in part does it locate in the painting, and in part beyond it.
Rules of Chinese painting composition:
Concise, concise and concise – the characteristics of Chinese poetry and freehand brush painting.
Conciseness differs from simplicity. In conciseness, images are refined from complex and detailed phenomena.
Play of space and levels of meaning engage the imagination and intellect and stimulate them.
Conciseness is the law of composition in Chinese freehand brushwork.
Concise images are used to abstract and condense.
Omit irrelevant features and represent with a few strokes. Based on understanding of form.
Likeness and Unlikeness:
Traditional Chinese painting relies on painting from memory and feelings. Unlike western art that encourages sketching on site.
So the flowers in Qi’s works are flowers of both reality and imagination. They are flowers which have been assimilated by the painter’s heart and are permeated with emotional colours and the light of the painter’s ideal.
Qi’s motto: ‘The marvel of a good painting lies between likeness and unlikeness.’
Likeness means the concomitance of an actual object with the painter’s understanding of it. Unlikeness refers to the artist’s abstraction of the object in his treatment of it.
Unlikeness is a phenomenon of sight, likeness of the heart. [Note: I believe the translation of this has swapped the sentences. I think it should be ‘Likeness is a phenomenon of sight, unlikeness of the heart.’]
Concise composition depends on both sight and heart, and also on the combination of realism and romanticism.
Regarding the rendering of light – it is derived from the mind’s eye of the artist thus represent a synthesis. Whatever stands out is bright, obscured is dark.
More on composition:
The opposition and unity in contradictions.
Utilising contrasts.
Qi contrasts sparse and dense, a few scattered twigs on which appear an abundance of fruits and flowers.
Contrasting – large splashes of heavy black ink against large white spaces.
Sturdy pines contrast with tender, delicate grasses; quiet rocks with chirping birds. Wisterias spreading randomly with flowers in neat arrays.
Composition is the specific application of dialectics in its combination of images. Both opposite and complementary to each other. Each shining more brilliantly in the other’s company.
Qi’s motto in fullwith explanation:
‘The marvel of a good painting lies between likeness and unlikeness. If it is an exact likeness, it is catering to vulgar tastes, but no likeness is simply cheating.’
My analysis of some of the work from the book:
Composition – extensive use of negative space as a form of conciseness, removing the irrelevance.. Contrasting the lack of details (abstraction) of the lotus see pods to the detailed dragonfly.
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The conciseness in the depiction of the tree especially the leaves. The chicks are also reduced to a few round shapes with soft edges but the insect is detailed. All other background has been eliminated.
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Shrimps are one of Qi’s most famous images. There is no background depicted, water, plant life or sea/pond beds have all been eliminated. But there is no doubt that the shrimps are in water and in movement. The depiction of the shrimps’ pincers and tentacles gives the sense of movement. The clustering (3+1) and distribution of the shrimps give a sense of an ongoing story where his painting is a snapshot in time. Qi has spent hours observing shrimps and their movements then painted them from memory thereby adding his own interpretations.
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The three paintings below all show highly abstract plant or fruit with more precisely depicted elements such as insects:
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Neatly laid out flowers all point up among random branches.
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Contrasts of neat streams of flowers among expressive and random branches:
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REFLECTIONS
What has been useful is the confirmation that there is nothing ‘magical’ about painting; there isn’t some kind of concept on a higher level that only certain ‘blessed or gifted’ artists can achieve. As for talent, that is subjective – I believe. Like art, a ‘talented’ abstract artist may produce art that is undesirable in some people’s eyes yet totally desirable for others. Hence I believe talent is subjective.
But painting is difficult – this was said to me by one of my fellow MA students who is an experienced painter. I couldn’t agree more. That’s also why I like painting. It’s a challenge that can be rewarding or frustrating – both are equally energising. Thinking about painting and art making consumes my mind and that must be why I only allowed myself to get deep into it after retirement. Perhaps I knew it would become like this.
I recently started learning about photography, I thought about incorporating that into my practice or even developing that into a main part of my practice – photography is an artistic as well as scientific subject hence I thought it would appeal. I attended a six week course to learn digital photography. I enjoyed the learning very much but I wasn’t as ‘bothered’ as I thought I would be. I think it’s because creating an image was too easy – doesn’t mean the image was any good, it was just too ‘quick and easy’ to get an outcome. Especially with a good digital camera (I bought a used Canon EOS 77D for the ‘new hobby’). The photography tutor was excellent and we did some good walkabout photography exercises in town. Within 20 minutes of walking around, I could produce a large number of images to choose from and there would typically be a couple that felt satisfactory. That’s too quick for me. There was little agony, self doubt or deliberation involved. Perhaps it’s my rebellion against the instant gratification culture that so dominates modern life and I want to exclude myself from that culture. It’s not because I think that’s wrong or want to judge, I just need a slow and drawn out agony to feel alive! In writing this paragraph, I have just come to realise why I paint.
Having said all that, I was recently given my late father-in-law’s treasured Hasselblad medium format film camera. It is a work of art in itself and the quality of engineering (all mechanical) is beyond words. I feel so privileged to have it. I have written another blog to capture my first experience with using it. I think analogue film photography is a different game to digital photography and the slowness of the process feeds my need for the excitement from a ‘drawn out agony’. All the anticipation. I am captivated.
Back to painting and likeness and unlikeness… I learnt a lot about composition in Chinese painting. That was very helpful. However, I also work extensively with composition in western art which is a different approach. So once again there is conflict in how I would bring the two together. Another opportunity to explore the third space where two cultures come together to create something new…
Another key learning is the likeness coming from sight and unlikeness coming from the heart. The latter being the artist’s influence or interpretation of the reality – this I have not done so much of and I need to work on this aspect a lot more. I recognise that I often rush into a painting because I’m so excited about a new idea. I have learnt that I need to take time to think about what and how I feel about the subject, what I’m painting and let that feeling play out more on the canvas with the subject I’m painting being the ‘carrier’ of that sentiment. Whoa! Easy to say!
Perhaps I can do some free writing before starting a painting to get insight into my thinking and feelings about whatever I’m making.
LEARNING
– Use conciseness and negative space to create impact and tension on the canvas.
– As I approach a painting (or any artwork), think more about how I feel about the topic and less about the detail of the representation. Incorporate more the heart and less of the sight to achieve a better balance of likeness and unlikeness.
– I have learnt about why I paint through this research and my reflections.
– I have yet to resolve the conflict between the different approaches between Chinese and Western art composition. What does transcultural mean in terms of composition when they are so different?
NEXT STEPS
– Take my learning forward to my next painting especially the part of applying the heart more to create unlikeness.
After making Family Dinner #1 (image below), I proceeded to make #2 with the learning.
Family Dinner #1
METHOD
I was overall satisfied with how the new Cheongsam pattern worked out. But I felt the measurements needed to be more generous if I were to wear the canvas because of the stiffness of the material. If it were too tight then it would be difficult to put on. Hence I modified the pattern to make it wider.
Pattern ready for cutting
I also learnt from the last dress painting that it was difficult to paint the back of the dress if the dress was fully sewn up and placed on the canvas – it was impossible to access the back while the oil on the front was drying for weeks.
Therefore I experimented in this case with not sewing up the sides and draping the dress with the back part of the canvas hanging off the back of the easel. The plan is to paint the front then turn the board to paint the back.
Back of the dress draped over the board
This family dinner has a main dish of ‘flower crab cooked in a clay pot’. So learning from my Chinese painting class – I studied the anatomy first and did a few ink drawings of crabs:
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Then I chose the colour of the background based on another Chinese dinner service. It’s the same pattern of the yellow one I used on Family Dinner #1, but of a turquoise colour:
I experimented with different level of tinting to get the right colour and not too dark:
The composition was developed on my sketchbook then marked out using black willow charcoal on the canvas:
Composition drawings
Then I decided that I would sew up the sides of the dress because I felt it would be too difficult to turn the canvas inside-out to sew once it has been painted with oil. So I reverted back to the process I used previously after much consideration. I also used Velcro much more extensively along the complete opening of the right chest and side instead of using a zip or buttons because it would be hard to sew a zip or hand-sew fasteners due to the thick canvas. Hot glue was used to fix the Velcro in addition to the Velcro tape adhesive to ensure it was firmly in place.
Sides of the dress were sewn up
I started with the ‘pan fried sliced luncheon meat’. I once did a tinting paint chart of the different red oil paints I had. It was very useful to choose the colour of luncheon meat from the chart. I chose the shade according to my childhood memory – the colour of artificially-pink meat is difficult to forget!
Then I proceeded to loosely paint and mark out the rest of the composition.
Adding chicken and green beansAdding clay pot flower crab and Campbell’s
Then more detail painting of the luncheon meat with some yellow edges for the oil used for pan frying:
Adding details to the whole salt baked chicken:
Around this time I received my Unit 2 feedback from my tutor with comments that made me reflect on how I apply the oil paint. So I experimented with some looser strokes on the crab shell.
The painting was finished by completing the Campbell’s alphabet soup and adding pattern details from the dinner service around the dishes. Pink satin fastening frogs were added as finishing touch.
Finished work – Family Dinner #2:
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REFLECTIONS
I really enjoyed making this painting. Food is such a key part of Chinese and Hong Kong culture that appreciating food is deep in my DNA. The more I paint these dinners, the more I realise that it’s not just the eating that I enjoy, but the painting of food as well. Working from memory has been great, thinking back to all the meals where these dishes were eating – at home as well as at restaurants.
Some of the unhappy experiences from our family dinners that I talked about in the reflections for Family Dinner #1 did not enter my consciousness for some reason. I realised that some of those experiences were dish dependent. Perhaps the dishes depicted here were ‘safe’ dishes without chances to go wrong. Dinner #1 featured a steamed fish – that was always challenging…
Part way through making this painting I received my Unit 2 feedback and it has been very thought-provoking. It made me immediately reevaluate how I applied oil painting – perhaps I have been too ‘one-dimensional’. Always applying the same (fairly thick) way. I tried a looser approach on the crab shell and was happy with the outcome. I have been thinking about that constantly and I need to experiment much more. How to use paint in a way to depict my distant and fading memory?
The Unit 2 feedback also made me think more deeply about why I am painting on Cheongsam dresses. Why dresses? Why Cheongsam and is the time well-spent in making dress-canvases? There is a lot to think about and reflect on from the Unit 2 feedback and I will write a dedicated blog for that.
I was going to make another cheongsam dress painting after this one, but I think I will make this decision after fully reflecting on my Unit 2 feedback.
LEARNING
– Be more flexible and creative in using oil. Try different thick- and thinness to create impact, to tell the story.
– Doing something just because I enjoy it is not enough a reason to do it. Need to consider more deeply about why – I believe I do this and reflect already but perhaps need to go deeper to examine my reasons.
– In terms of the Cheongsam making process, the increased use of Velcro as fasteners was a success and should be used in future dresses. Using hot glue to fix the Velcro was also a good idea.
– Overall, the pattern development has gone well and I believe I have a well tested and suitable method of producing a Cheongsam painting canvas.
NEXT STEPS
– Experiment with thinning oil and layering.
– Explore ways to depict fading memory without being overly detailed.
– Complete and capture my reflections from Unit 2 feedback. Write a dedicated blog for that and determine next steps to develop my practice. What to do if not Cheongsam paintings?
– Finish the back of the Cheongsam when the front is dried.
I have been learning Chinese painting for three years in parallel to my other courses such as the MA Fine Art programme at Central Saint Martins. Collectively, they help me to develop my transcultural art practice.
My latest learning was about the use of seals. Here is some information from the Hong Kong Art Museum about the use of seals on painting and calligraphy:
The seal is applied at the end of the painting process. Since the seal paste is usually a permanent colour of Vermillion (cinnabar red), it cannot be erased hence its placement has to be considered and applied carefully. Otherwise, it could ruin the painting composition.
For Chinese artists, they can use different types of seals. They typically have one or more name-seals and other optional mood-seals. My late mother left behind several of her seals that I have been studying and using for my paintings. I asked my Chinese painting tutor whether it was appropriate for me to use another artist’s (i.e. my mother’s) seals. My tutor said, ‘she was your mum, I don’t think she would mind. Anyway, who is going to check?’ Since my mother was an established painter, her seals were beautifully carved from quality stones. I have enjoyed discovering them and playing with them.
Since my last lesson, I have been practicing signing my name in Chinese calligraphy and then putting two seals on paintings. These experiments have been challenging in a fun way.
1. A vase of flowers in Chinese ink on Xuan (rice) paper. The calligraphy says it is by me (my full name with surname) and there are two seals:
– The seal at the bottom left corner belonged to my mother. It is a mood-seal with the meaning of ‘transcendence’ – a spiritual state of moving beyond physical needs and realities.
– The seal at the top right is my new mood seal that I ordered from Hong Kong through my tutor. It means ‘third space’ and is a fundamental element of my art practice – exploring the ‘third space’ which describes my existence. Third space here is as described by Homi K. Bhabha in his book ‘The Location of Culture’.
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2. A simple painting of a flower branch in a small vase. The calligraphy says it is by me (name only, no surname) with two seals:
– bottom left: my full name seal with surname.
– Top right: ‘Transcendence’.
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3. A small vase with a branch and leaves. My name in calligraphy with two seals:
– Bottom left: my full name.
– Top right: one my of mother’s seals but I do no know what it says! It is of an ancient script and beyond my knowledge. I will keep researching to see if I can find out. I have subsequently found out by seeing on one my mother’s paintings that I have put it upside down!
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4. My cat Tom who is sadly not with us anymore. No calligraphy with two seals:
– My full name and the upside down seal!
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LEARNING
Using the seal properly is an art form that requires skills which comes with experience. The placement of the seal as well as how it is applied are both important. Too much paste would ‘flood’ the carving giving a red mess, too little paste would make part of the seal invisible, i.e. an incomplete image. So it needs to be just right.
The placement is even more challenging. The use of negative space is critical in Chinese painting – my Chinese painting tutor said the extensive use of negative space was a key differentiation between Chinese and ‘Western’ art. Placing the seal after the painting is completed means the seal interrupts the negative space hence it needs to be done in a way that maintains the harmony of the composition whilst enhancing the composition. While writing this I realise it is impossible to articulate how to do it! What I have learnt from the above paintings are that if I am using two seals then place them diagonally on the composition and use one large and one smaller seal, i.e. do not use two seals of the same size. The non-uniformity makes the composition more interesting.
My tutor said the only way to learn was to keep doing it, keep practicing, then eventually it would come naturally. I have to take her words for it as I don’t have any other options! I used to only put seals on paintings that I was happy with, but my tutor said I should do it on every painting in order to practice. So that is what I will do!
NEXT STEPS:
– Keep practicing using seals on all my Chinese paintings.
– Pay more attention to how other Chinese artists use their seals – study my mother’s paintings and my painting books more carefully.
elizarawlings 