SIMPLY PROFOUND
The mesmerising nuances of oil painting and ink painting:
After completing an Honours degree in 2005, with a major in printmaking, I moved to Sydney to study Old Master’s painting techniques at the Charlie Sheard Studio School. Charlie offered a three year intensive course in oil painting techniques. Previously I had only ever dabbled with a little bit of watercolour paint. My first experience of oil painting could be described as similar to ‘painting with plasticine’, that feeling lasted for months. We used the best materials we could afford including Old Holland Paint, which is pigment dense, avoiding the fillers and excess oil of some other paints. Hours and hours where spent on learning about the pigment characteristics- transparent and opaque pigments, brush handling, glazing, impasto, colour theory - colour mixing, optical colours, warm and cool effects, supports, mediums, and artists from the C14th to C21st century …
Charlie’s knowledge and course was intense and he had the immense respect of his students. He has exhibited and travelled widely and has taught art at the university Cambridge. Interestingly the first paintings of Charlie’s I viewed where from his exhibition entitled ‘Mountain,’ in 2005, with translations of poetry from the Tang and Song Dynasty. The poets included Wang We, Zu Yong, Han Shan Chang Jian and Zhou Dun Yi. Charlie taught us that the act of painting, and the paint itself, is embodied. It is an object in its own right. It exists alone as an object and once the brush is put aside, and the artist steps aside the work will, if it has been painted with focus and the right intention, hold the essence of the artist’s emotion. That idea has stayed with me. A painting of course is simply some paint and a support, created with some brushes, palette knife or even fingers. However without the knowledge and practice of technique, until the technique becomes second nature, I believe that painting will struggle to achieve the true emotion and embodiment of the maker’s intent.
Recently I had the great privilege of meeting Professor Wong. I attended a talk on Zen painting that he gave at the TMAG late last year and enquired about his ink painting classes. Over the last few months, having had some private lessons and reading some of his literature, I feel that there are many similarities in his view of painting to that of Charlie’s. There is beauty in oil paint, ink and watercolour. Each have their own special qualities but all can be described as having the properties of being simple yet profound. I will come back to Professor Wong and Chinese painting but first I would like to describe how my interest moves between Old Master’s oil painting to Eastern ink painting. Over the last 10 years my main interest has been in the idea of metamorphosis predominantly in mythology. I like the idea of shape changing and shifting between form and the formless. This has resulted in my preference for abstraction and emphasis on negative spaces. Colour and form become most valuable tools along with technique.
For me the fascinating attraction of oil paint lies in the constant revelation of the beauty and sensuality of the medium made possible by the inherent qualities of opaque and transparent pigments. Every day is different in the studio the light changes, the mood changes and the colour changes. Forms in the work that once seemed fixed suddenly appear to evaporate and morph into another shape. The form that emerges from the light returns to the darkness. Recently I found my work becoming more visually complex-: however I have been striving for, and believe I had approached, a minimal aesthetic. It seemed to me that somewhere within those moments of nebulous flux and complexity something very real and universal was happening, something alluding to another reality. It was not perfect, the paintings where difficult to resolve. This apparent dichotomy of form and content has led my investigation into the simple yet profound reality of negative space within the context of Eastern philosophy.
The reason I sat down to reflect upon such ideas is that I was writing a proposal to study a Masters Degree in Fine Art. Last year I travelled to Rome and Israel to continue my research on metamorphosis, specifically looking at the butterfly as the ancient emblem of the soul, or ‘psyche’ and the unconscious attraction to the light. In Romanesque art holding a butterfly close to a flame signifies purification of the soul by fire, in other contexts it represents metamorphosis itself. I was trying to unravel the symbol of the butterfly wings by creating movement in the paintings. In the proposal I suggested that negative space, in essence, contains the notion of becoming. Pictorially and philosophically negative space is used to define how we perceive the nature of a ‘thing’, in other words in its difference to everything else. Thus ‘becoming’ implies a state of motion somewhere between non-being and being and specifically in art, between form and formless. It was about this time that I met Professor Wong.
At first I didn’t understand how Chinese ‘Zen’ painting could be full of birds and mountains, I expected it to be very minimal and abstract. Professor Wong writes that “a ‘Zen’ painting does not depend entirely on whether the form is complex or simple, nor should it be confined to whether ink or colour is used… if the painting reflects the thinking process in the mind of the artist and serves to convey the Buddhist message to the viewer, then the work can be labelled as a ‘Zen’ painting.” Thus demonstrating the main characteristic of Chinese painting in that it should have the philosophy of the Chinese or Chinese ‘heart.’ ‘Heart’ being the simplicity of Daoism, the tranquillity of Confucianism and the emptiness of Buddhism. In our classes I observed the total focus Professor Wong has when painting. The use of ink and water on paper appears to have an amazing spontaneity and flow, its’ beauty and simplicity belies the practice and experience of the master artist.
In contrast to the slow and somewhat laborious nature of oil painting, ink painting is a breath of fresh air. I find myself absorbed in the strength of the rice paper, maybe remembering my printmaking days and love of paper, and mesmerised by the velvet blackness of the ink so easily coaxed into shades of subtle greys. Professor Wong has suggested I copy Chinese script to practice my skills. Ink, water and paper such a deceptively simple practice. My original idea was to learn how to create the beautiful effects of ink painting, the intention, the flow of the medium, how to control the brush the water and ink on the paper and develop the confidence to make the marks and then to apply it to oil painting. In contrast to oil painting, which is very forgiving and mistakes are easily wiped away or painted over, ink painting is very ‘kamikazi,’ a spot of ink is a spot of ink forever! I must confess that I am very much a novice and that making fuzzy edges is easy. Controlling the amount of water, loading the ink at the right dilution and place on the brush, applying the correct variation in pressure and lightness of touch are real skills to master.
The next step was to translate the painterly freedom of ink painting into oil painting. My first experiments in oil were with an oil-out medium, perfected by my friend Louis Velazques in San Diego, and some soft brushes. Louis has studied Old Master’s painting mediums for any years and has done research with the Rembrandt Foundation and the Prado in Madrid. He has developed toxin free methods to clean and sun bleach pure linseed oil, to paint with, from his research into Old Master’s mediums. This method allows for beautiful flow with the oil paint. In the painting ‘Moment by Moment’ the image became secondary to the process. Thus the essence of metamorphosis that I was after was not so much in the unravelling of the butterfly symbol but in the experience of doing the work. The painting was starting to head toward an abstraction.
The beauty of ink painting is that is so easy to access compared to oil painting. In a moment paper can be unrolled next to a glass of water and some ink, painted, dried and rolled up. In the future I plan to practice ink painting not only to develop painterly skills, but to emulate its’ aesthetic simplicity. In conclusion I would like to say that painting, in oil or ink, is circular in nature. Always simple at the beginning of the journey, brush, support and medium, the more one learns the more complex it appears to be. However as technique improves painting becomes second nature and more focus shifts to the artists’ intent. Until eventually the painting reflects the emotion of the painter and there is no dichotomy of content and form.
The ink paintings in this article are from the series ‘Indigo’ made before my adventure into Chinese ink painting and will be the basis for some larger works. This is my artist statement.
‘Indigo is a special colour. It leads us into the inky blackness of the night sky, metamorphosis is possible. Form becomes formless, then we fall out into the softness of dawn. Imagine this indigo at the ocean’s edge. The waves play with the sky the negative shapes emerge when the swell retreats’ or maybe it’s the other way around?
Wings, the eternal symbol of the soul, fly without limit, they submerge then re-emerge only to reveal their vulnerability in the darkness.’
'Like absence spun out, like a sudden bell,
the sea shares out the heart’s own sound,
raining, dusking on a lone coast;
night falls without doubts…’
Pablo Neruda
1904-1973
‘In the ocean there are many bright strands
and many dark strands like veins that are seen when a wing is lifted up.
Your hidden self is blood in those, those veins
that are lute strings that make ocean music,
not the sad edge of the surf,
but the sound of no shore.’
Rumi
C13th
Corinne Costello
The mesmerising nuances of oil painting and ink painting:
After completing an Honours degree in 2005, with a major in printmaking, I moved to Sydney to study Old Master’s painting techniques at the Charlie Sheard Studio School. Charlie offered a three year intensive course in oil painting techniques. Previously I had only ever dabbled with a little bit of watercolour paint. My first experience of oil painting could be described as similar to ‘painting with plasticine’, that feeling lasted for months. We used the best materials we could afford including Old Holland Paint, which is pigment dense, avoiding the fillers and excess oil of some other paints. Hours and hours where spent on learning about the pigment characteristics- transparent and opaque pigments, brush handling, glazing, impasto, colour theory - colour mixing, optical colours, warm and cool effects, supports, mediums, and artists from the C14th to C21st century …
Charlie’s knowledge and course was intense and he had the immense respect of his students. He has exhibited and travelled widely and has taught art at the university Cambridge. Interestingly the first paintings of Charlie’s I viewed where from his exhibition entitled ‘Mountain,’ in 2005, with translations of poetry from the Tang and Song Dynasty. The poets included Wang We, Zu Yong, Han Shan Chang Jian and Zhou Dun Yi. Charlie taught us that the act of painting, and the paint itself, is embodied. It is an object in its own right. It exists alone as an object and once the brush is put aside, and the artist steps aside the work will, if it has been painted with focus and the right intention, hold the essence of the artist’s emotion. That idea has stayed with me. A painting of course is simply some paint and a support, created with some brushes, palette knife or even fingers. However without the knowledge and practice of technique, until the technique becomes second nature, I believe that painting will struggle to achieve the true emotion and embodiment of the maker’s intent.
Recently I had the great privilege of meeting Professor Wong. I attended a talk on Zen painting that he gave at the TMAG late last year and enquired about his ink painting classes. Over the last few months, having had some private lessons and reading some of his literature, I feel that there are many similarities in his view of painting to that of Charlie’s. There is beauty in oil paint, ink and watercolour. Each have their own special qualities but all can be described as having the properties of being simple yet profound. I will come back to Professor Wong and Chinese painting but first I would like to describe how my interest moves between Old Master’s oil painting to Eastern ink painting. Over the last 10 years my main interest has been in the idea of metamorphosis predominantly in mythology. I like the idea of shape changing and shifting between form and the formless. This has resulted in my preference for abstraction and emphasis on negative spaces. Colour and form become most valuable tools along with technique.
For me the fascinating attraction of oil paint lies in the constant revelation of the beauty and sensuality of the medium made possible by the inherent qualities of opaque and transparent pigments. Every day is different in the studio the light changes, the mood changes and the colour changes. Forms in the work that once seemed fixed suddenly appear to evaporate and morph into another shape. The form that emerges from the light returns to the darkness. Recently I found my work becoming more visually complex-: however I have been striving for, and believe I had approached, a minimal aesthetic. It seemed to me that somewhere within those moments of nebulous flux and complexity something very real and universal was happening, something alluding to another reality. It was not perfect, the paintings where difficult to resolve. This apparent dichotomy of form and content has led my investigation into the simple yet profound reality of negative space within the context of Eastern philosophy.
The reason I sat down to reflect upon such ideas is that I was writing a proposal to study a Masters Degree in Fine Art. Last year I travelled to Rome and Israel to continue my research on metamorphosis, specifically looking at the butterfly as the ancient emblem of the soul, or ‘psyche’ and the unconscious attraction to the light. In Romanesque art holding a butterfly close to a flame signifies purification of the soul by fire, in other contexts it represents metamorphosis itself. I was trying to unravel the symbol of the butterfly wings by creating movement in the paintings. In the proposal I suggested that negative space, in essence, contains the notion of becoming. Pictorially and philosophically negative space is used to define how we perceive the nature of a ‘thing’, in other words in its difference to everything else. Thus ‘becoming’ implies a state of motion somewhere between non-being and being and specifically in art, between form and formless. It was about this time that I met Professor Wong.
At first I didn’t understand how Chinese ‘Zen’ painting could be full of birds and mountains, I expected it to be very minimal and abstract. Professor Wong writes that “a ‘Zen’ painting does not depend entirely on whether the form is complex or simple, nor should it be confined to whether ink or colour is used… if the painting reflects the thinking process in the mind of the artist and serves to convey the Buddhist message to the viewer, then the work can be labelled as a ‘Zen’ painting.” Thus demonstrating the main characteristic of Chinese painting in that it should have the philosophy of the Chinese or Chinese ‘heart.’ ‘Heart’ being the simplicity of Daoism, the tranquillity of Confucianism and the emptiness of Buddhism. In our classes I observed the total focus Professor Wong has when painting. The use of ink and water on paper appears to have an amazing spontaneity and flow, its’ beauty and simplicity belies the practice and experience of the master artist.
In contrast to the slow and somewhat laborious nature of oil painting, ink painting is a breath of fresh air. I find myself absorbed in the strength of the rice paper, maybe remembering my printmaking days and love of paper, and mesmerised by the velvet blackness of the ink so easily coaxed into shades of subtle greys. Professor Wong has suggested I copy Chinese script to practice my skills. Ink, water and paper such a deceptively simple practice. My original idea was to learn how to create the beautiful effects of ink painting, the intention, the flow of the medium, how to control the brush the water and ink on the paper and develop the confidence to make the marks and then to apply it to oil painting. In contrast to oil painting, which is very forgiving and mistakes are easily wiped away or painted over, ink painting is very ‘kamikazi,’ a spot of ink is a spot of ink forever! I must confess that I am very much a novice and that making fuzzy edges is easy. Controlling the amount of water, loading the ink at the right dilution and place on the brush, applying the correct variation in pressure and lightness of touch are real skills to master.
The next step was to translate the painterly freedom of ink painting into oil painting. My first experiments in oil were with an oil-out medium, perfected by my friend Louis Velazques in San Diego, and some soft brushes. Louis has studied Old Master’s painting mediums for any years and has done research with the Rembrandt Foundation and the Prado in Madrid. He has developed toxin free methods to clean and sun bleach pure linseed oil, to paint with, from his research into Old Master’s mediums. This method allows for beautiful flow with the oil paint. In the painting ‘Moment by Moment’ the image became secondary to the process. Thus the essence of metamorphosis that I was after was not so much in the unravelling of the butterfly symbol but in the experience of doing the work. The painting was starting to head toward an abstraction.
The beauty of ink painting is that is so easy to access compared to oil painting. In a moment paper can be unrolled next to a glass of water and some ink, painted, dried and rolled up. In the future I plan to practice ink painting not only to develop painterly skills, but to emulate its’ aesthetic simplicity. In conclusion I would like to say that painting, in oil or ink, is circular in nature. Always simple at the beginning of the journey, brush, support and medium, the more one learns the more complex it appears to be. However as technique improves painting becomes second nature and more focus shifts to the artists’ intent. Until eventually the painting reflects the emotion of the painter and there is no dichotomy of content and form.
The ink paintings in this article are from the series ‘Indigo’ made before my adventure into Chinese ink painting and will be the basis for some larger works. This is my artist statement.
‘Indigo is a special colour. It leads us into the inky blackness of the night sky, metamorphosis is possible. Form becomes formless, then we fall out into the softness of dawn. Imagine this indigo at the ocean’s edge. The waves play with the sky the negative shapes emerge when the swell retreats’ or maybe it’s the other way around?
Wings, the eternal symbol of the soul, fly without limit, they submerge then re-emerge only to reveal their vulnerability in the darkness.’
'Like absence spun out, like a sudden bell,
the sea shares out the heart’s own sound,
raining, dusking on a lone coast;
night falls without doubts…’
Pablo Neruda
1904-1973
‘In the ocean there are many bright strands
and many dark strands like veins that are seen when a wing is lifted up.
Your hidden self is blood in those, those veins
that are lute strings that make ocean music,
not the sad edge of the surf,
but the sound of no shore.’
Rumi
C13th
Corinne Costello