I read Shitao's Paintings and Sayings

Author: Wu Guanzhong
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-01-01
Features: The classic work Dialysis of Painting by Shi Tao proposes a mysterious "One-Brush Method." He states: "The One-Brush Method begins with myself." He also claims that his One-Brush Method is one method encompassing all methods. The core issue he elucidates in Dialysis of Painting is the reverence for "feeling." The author must honor his own feelings and employ all means—or no means—to express his genuine feelings. Since each painting is preceded by different subjects and emotions, each feeling should be conveyed through different expressive methods and techniques. Thus, the mystery is already clear: his so-called "One-Brush Method" does not invent any extraordinary painting technique or acrobatic skill, but rather clarifies the concept of painting methods. He says, "The mustaches and eyebrows of the ancients cannot grow on my face." Because the paintings in others' hands differ from his own feelings, he states that the One-Brush Method begins with the self. It must be noted: at that time, the painting world, which clung to tradition and valued imitation of the ancients, attacked Shi Tao for lacking the brushwork of the old masters. Shi Tao's works are all inspired by emotion, and his feelings are directly derived from visual inspiration. He has a unique sensitivity to formal beauty.
During my student years, I studied Western oil painting while also learning traditional Chinese painting. My teacher, Pan Tianshou, emphasized the fundamentals for beginners, insisting that they start with copying. We copied famous works from the Song, Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties. To practice, we had to copy works we disliked, including the monotonous landscapes of the "Four Wangs," but we had no choice. Pan Tianshou himself favored Shi Tao and Ba Da Shanren, so the library at Hangzhou Art College had many books on Shi Tao and Ba Da's paintings. When I copied Shi Tao, I felt truly joyful, as if accompanying the monk on a journey across the land, lost in happiness.
Shi Tao's works break away from the clichés of landscape painting conventions. They are directly inspired by life, expressing his intimate feelings while immersed in real mountains and waters. His compositions often focus on close-up and middle-ground scenes, with lively mountains, waters, trees, and houses appearing vividly before the viewer. He paints portraits of nature, each with a unique personality. In his landscapes, large houses are scattered among the rocks and trees, not just to the scene with people enjoying leisure, but more importantly, to contrast the blocky shapes of the houses with the linear arrangements of the rocks and trees, creating fresh and diverse compositions. This is entirely different from the aesthetic of mediocre landscapes, which merely conceptually dot small houses here and there.
His trees are like people—some stand tall and sing, others lean casually, pines and cypresses are lush, willows sway gracefully, and clusters of miscellaneous trees chatter with each other. Often, delicate aquatic plants follow and rely on one another, while the shimmering curves of water waves welcome their neighbors in the painting.
A remarkable insight in Shi Tao's approach to form is his discovery of the importance of plane division. He fully utilizes the canvas and space, employing "white to calculate black" or "black to calculate white." The contrast and harmony between black and white in his works are skillfully handled to perfection. His paintings lack unnecessary or vague empty spaces; the placement, form, and density of inscriptions in the empty spaces are all part of his strict overall composition. This is especially evident in his floral works, whether plum blossoms, orchids, bamboos, or chrysanthemums, they are primarily composed of contrasting, harmonious, and combined lines in various styles, with endless variations in composition.
In his large-scale lotus pond paintings, Shi Tao completely breaks free from the conventional formulas of floral works. His composition boldly combines different geometric shapes—squares, circles, points, and curves—creating unique and striking effects. His approach is remarkably similar to Cézanne's analysis of objects being constructed from cylinders, cones, and other geometric forms.
When the calligraphic lines or planes formed by inscriptions enter the painting and coexist with it, they either serve as a bond or an auxiliary element, or they disrupt the harmony. In most cases, they disrupt it. The leaves of bamboo, orchids, reeds, and wild grasses are thick or thin, charming or clumsy, with no fixed forms, all reflecting the artist's joys, sorrows, tears, and laughter. The inscriptions reveal the hidden emotions of poetry and painting, so-called "poetic sentiment in painting." However, the critical issue lies in the contradiction and unity between painting and literary thinking. Both the illustration of literature or the annotation of paintings lose their artistic purity and taste. Shi Tao strived for the beauty of inscriptions harmonizing with the form and essence of the painting, as if fish swimming in water. Zheng Banqiao and Pan Tianshou also paid special attention to refining this composite art form.
This reminds me of Rodin. Rodin's sculptures possess literary connotations, nearly a fusion of literature and sculpture, making him a master of his generation. Yet his student Bourdelle moved toward pure sculpture, rejecting literature.
Chinese Tang and Song Dynasty paintings had no accompanying text, but with the development of literati painting, they evolved into a composite art of poetry, calligraphy, and painting. So-called "three perfections" masterpieces were rare, but the practice soon became widespread, turning into a chaotic mix that concealed flaws.