Further life and times of *liltayinchina*

Eileen and I have just this past Thursday finished our ten lessons with Teacher Jiang. At the lesson before last, he boldly announced that we were through with drawing practice and ready to learn how to paint. Eileen has had little experience with painting and though I know a lot about color and a little about watercolor, I have had little experience with real painting as well. I would even say I’m afraid of it. I’ve never once tried oil painting and though I’ve often painted with acrylics, my style is more as if I were using markers than actually mixing and creating three-dimensions with the paint.

So while Eileen was excited, I was apprehensive. I knew that I could still use the drawing practice and was sure I’d miss it a lot. But, the idea of knowing the secrets behind Teacher Jiang’s own incredible skill did seduce me into being a little excited too. We met Jiang Laoshi (sounds so much better than Teacher Jiang) outside of the art store that started it all, and he took us inside and began consulting the vast amount of small pots of what I’m continuing to believe are acrylic paint, though the English on the pots says, “Advertising color paints”. He chose the following, though memory has eliminated some of the names for the greens and blues: lemon yellow, yellow ochre, burnt sienna, burnt umber, crimson red, scarlet, deep red, mauve, green light (light green), sap green, viridian, cobalt blue, ultramarine blue, prussian blue, black, and white.

After making our purchase (all of these pots of paint, plus six brushes, a palette knife and two large mixing palettes came to the equivalent of $8 USD dollars each), we returned to the studio. At some point before the Spring Festival, the studio moved from the seventh floor of the abandoned building to a small concrete block situated among art professor residences. The walkway to the new studio takes us along a tree lined back alley and right under several cherry trees that were in full bloom this past Thursday. The new space is reminiscent of an artist’s colony and brings me great pleasure upon arrival.

Jiang Laoshi immediately took to filling our paint boxes/mixing palettes with paint. He arranged the liquid cubes of paint beginning with white, then yellow to red and brown and told us these were the “hot” colors. Next he added the greens, blues, purples and black and told us these were the “cold” colors. He asked Eileen and I what our favorite colors where. She said yellow ochre and pointed to some of the reds. I said all greens and pointed to an orange-red as well. Eileen asked what his favorite color was and he replied simply, “An artist loves all colors. When you are a great artist, you too, will love all colors.” We found his reply extremely charming.

After filling our paint boxes, Jiang Laoshi painted the still life for us so that we could get a sense of the steps involved. He was so fast. His brush strokes were placed with thought and care and attention but also so quickly. The still life consisted of a light green-yellow apple and a yellow pear. The background was a bright red cloth. Jiang Laoshi kept talking to us of the energy and excitement one needed to feel in order to paint. It was startling to see the same skilled and patient hand move so differently while holding a brush. We were used to slow movements with pencils over paper. With a brush, he was an animated madman, sending paint and water flying with every flick of his wrist.

Of course, his quick replication of the still life was perfection. The colors were deeper than what we saw in front of us but the way the light fell on each object was exact. The vivacity of his movements had also been caught in the depiction of the objects. It was magic to witness him work.

Soon, we were setting about the same objective. Only a few short days ago, it was cold and windy in Wuhan. Thursday night was almost warm and the windows and doors of the studio were open. Outside, in the night air, someone was tuning an er-hu – a traditional Chinese stringed instrument played upright in the lap with a bow. I found the evening to be intoxicating. The stringed instrument vibrated sounds into my wildly open subconscious as my hand moved the brush across the paper with free abandon.

It was quiet in the studio, as classes had not yet begun for the regular students of the institute so Eileen and I had the studio and Jiang Laoshi to ourselves. He seemed excited. I also noticed that he’d recently gotten his braces off. Honestly though, they seem to have made little difference to the architecture of his mouth. His lips still protrude in a humorous pout/pucker.

Eileen and I plowed our way through painting the objects on the red cloth. It was fun and exciting and exasperating all at once. And what I noticed most of all; it was quick. Before, I had slaved away to get the perfect three-dimensional qualities of a single pear to come forth through my pencil work. But with the paint, the slower I moved the more Jiang Laoshi would hop excitedly behind me, almost as if to say, “Stop thinking and paint already!”

Having never created art in this manner, I am excited to see what comes of it. The closest I’ve ever come is in sketching ideas for projects in ID. And even then, moving the pencil or pen quickly across the page always made me feel like an imposter. My brain feels at home with slow, concise, carefully judged movements: the tinier the detail, the better. Already, Jiang Laoshi has done more for me than several years in art classes ever managed to do.

Eileen and I will sign up for ten more sessions with Jiang Laoshi. And I’m already looking forward to next Thursday. He promised to use a green drop cloth in the next still life!