Chinese Painters | Page 3

Raphael Petrucci
perpetuates feeling and intelligence by
means of outward expressions. Of all human achievements art is the
most vital, the one that is dowered with eternal youth, for it awakens in
the soul emotions which neither time nor civilization has ever radically
altered. Therefore, in commencing the study of an art of strange
appearance, what we must seek primarily is the exact nature of the
complexity of ideas and feelings upon which it is based. Such is the
task presented to us, and since the problem which we here approach is
the general study of Chinese painting, we must prepare ourselves first
to master the peculiarities of its appearance and technique, in order to
understand later on the motives which inspired it.
While the first part of this study will carry us far from our habitual
modes of thought, the second part will bring us back into a domain
which our own philosophies, sciences and arts have already made
familiar. Admittedly, Chinese painting is governed by distinctive ideas.
Born of a civilization vastly different from our own, it may at times

appear in a guise that seems incomprehensible. It would be astonishing,
however, if Western intelligence were unable to grasp an aesthetic code
of a magnitude which is too great to be ignored.
The progress of history and of criticism has given us the opportunity to
reach a comprehension of the most peculiar formulas. Our culture is
sufficiently broad to allow us to perceive the beauty of an Egyptian
fresco or an Assyrian bas-relief as well as of a Byzantine mosaic or a
painting of the Renaissance. We have therefore no excuse for
remaining inaccessible to the art of the Far East and we have surely all
the mental vigor that is requisite in order to accustom ourselves to the
foreign nature of its presentation. It is in the realm of painting that this
foreign element is most noticeable. This is due partly to a special
technique and partly to the nature of the doctrines which serve as its
inspiration.
It behooves us then to acquaint ourselves with these new aspects of the
human soul. That is the justification for this little book. It forms an
introduction in which gaps are shown without attempt at concealment
and is presented in all modesty.
* * * * *
PART ONE TECHNIQUE
I. EQUIPMENT OF THE PAINTER
Where our painters have chosen wood or canvas as a ground, the
Chinese have employed silk or paper. While our art recognizes that
drawing itself, quite apart from painting, is a sufficient objective,
drawing and painting have always been closely intermingled in the Far
East. While the mediums used in Europe for painting in color,
distemper, tempera and oil, led to an exact study of form, the colors
employed by the Orientals--at times brilliant, at times subdued with an
almost studied restraint--preserved a singular fluidity and lent
themselves to undefined evanescences which gave them a surprising
charm.

The early paintings were generally done on cotton, coarse silk or paper.
In the eighth century, under the T'ang dynasty, the use of finer silk
began. The dressing was removed with boiling water, the silk was then
sized and smoothed with a paddle. The use of silken fabric of the finest
weave, prepared with a thick sizing, became general during the Sung
dynasty. Papers were made of vegetable fibres, principally of bamboo.
Being prepared, as was the silk, with a sizing of alum, they became
practically indestructible. Upon these silks and papers the painter
worked with brush and Chinese ink,[1] color being introduced with
more or less freedom or restraint.
The brushes are of different types. Each position of the brush conforms
to a specific quality of the line, either sharp and precise or broad and
quivering, the ink spreading in strong touches or thinning to delicate
shades.
The colors are simple, of mineral or vegetable origin. Chinese painters
have always avoided mixing colors so far as possible. From malachite
they obtained several shades of green, from cinnabar or sulphide of
mercury, a number of reds. They knew also how to combine mercury,
sulphur and potash to produce vermilion. From peroxide of mercury
they drew coloring powders which furnished shades ranging from brick
red to orange yellow. During the T'ang dynasty coral was ground to
secure a special red, while white was extracted from burnt oyster shells.
White lead was later substituted for this lime white. Carmine lake they
obtained from madder, yellows from the sap of the rattan, blues from
indigo. To these must be added the different shades of Chinese ink and
lastly, gold in leaf and in powder.
[1] Chinese ink is a very different composition from the ink of Western
countries. It is a solid made of soot obtained by burning certain plants,
which is then combined
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code

 / 30
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.