No Hands My friends were surprised. For 16 years, to be exact. I remember my first bite at putting pastels to canvas. It was by trial and error, with mostly errors. I grappled with wielding Chinese paint brushes while trying to maintain balance on my wheelchair. The challenge to acquire the feel of dry brushstrokes on very delicately fragile Chinese rice paper was a tedious challenge. The flipside was the even more complex technique of controlling a wet brush as the damp colors rapidly spread on the 'xuanzi'. The frequent struggles to control color mixes, composition, perspective, proportion and the dreaded coming to terms with mistakes, the list goes on. My initial weak attempts created more laughs than proper artworks. Bamboos were mistaken for sugarcane, prawns for grasshoppers and an unforgettable first try at an eagle was touted like a chicken I started at home, at first seated awkwardly on the bed with not much instruction other than can be recalled from my secondary school days. An 'A' level art student who taught me the basics for 2 months was all I got. Beginning with poster paints on watercolor paper, I went on to do Chinese painting with brushstrokes on very flimsy rice paper. I have since completed over 500 paintings from 1989 though the actual number drawn is more. I have thrown away countless attempts that were spoilt or not up to satisfactory standard. One has to sacrifice in order to improve.
Oil is pliable and easily manipulated with a fluid consistency that is worked to the artist's preference. Its slow drying quality lends more time with a forgiving work pace, a luxury not offered by my current medium choice. Oil is also mainstream fare with rich texture infusing brilliant colors with a diverse history through the ages. It also is easy to correct mistakes! Of course the advantage of being able to correct mistakes is a major plus factor. It is an edge not enjoyed in watercolor and Chinese Painting. Furthermore, on average oil paintings fetch much better prices! Now I choose to attend a Basic Oil Painting course at NAFA (Nanyang Academy of Fine Arts) because of practical reasons too. The new NAFA building at Bencoolen Street is wheelchair-accessible and transport by MRT via the North-East Line from my home in Sengkang is now possible. The logistics of not having to pre-book transport and ample savings of not relying on London Taxis for transit was a main decider. Other than that, after so many years of mostly Chinese paintings of the usual motifs, I was ready to venture into different territory. I had hoped adding the fundamental skills of oil painting will prove to be relevant progress and further enrich artistic knowledge.
I had my share of nervousness. There were 9 other classmates and they were all girls! That they were of the fairer sex wasn't the cause of my discomfort. Knowing they were using hands as opposed to my teeth clenching brush style didn't put me at ease. Still it was a challenge I had accepted. I just hoped and prayed I would be able to keep pace with them. What helped me to settle down was the very affable and likeable art teacher. NAFA lecturer Mr. Teh Chan Kerk "call me Chan Kerk, don't call me Mr. Teh" was very alert to my needs and more than understanding to the limitations of my physical disability. With his ample experience in teaching the various mediums in art, he imparted the craft with a zeal that had you caught up in his passion.
With a round pot, a cylindrical white object and an apple placed center stage on a velvety purplish fabric, the class began to draw. I searched my mind to recall the pointers that Chan Kerk had shared. Light source, body tone, cast shadow, highlights, shadows, perspective, value, tone, hues and brush direction. We worked with only 2 paints- Ultramarine Blue and Zinc White for a monochrome finish. This first exercise will help in understanding tonal values. We learnt to see how light affect and fall on objects, to observe lines and perspective, to paint with an artist's eye, to look at the subject in relation to what they're compared with.
I learnt more and more with each continuing brushstroke. Looking at my fellow pupils' canvases also broadened my outlook of how varied viewpoints can contribute to an alternative perspective. Every student though painting the same subject had multi-faceted windows of observation. Each person painted dispassionately different from each other. It was an example of personality, character and a part of the artist portrayed on the canvas. One poet offered, 'A part of your soul framed on the wall." I take pride in saying I was not the last one to 'complete' my work. I was sort of three-quarters down the sequence. Still I took advantage of the final few minutes to touch up my first oil 'masterpiece.' The painting session took 2 hours of the 3 hour duration. I was so exhausted and even fainting from the fatigue that had set in. But it was worth the effort. It ranks as one of the happier days of my life to look at my painting placed alongside the blue-white images on the canvases of fellow artist's works. It didn't look out of place, in fact, it looked pretty good. It was on to colors next.
It has been 8 weeks. At the final session, the NAFA certificate was handed to me. I looked at the piece of paper with a sense of satisfaction, achievement, and a dash of pride and a dose of relief. This certificate symbolized so much. It was like when I finally got my driving license. Time, money and effort are etched on its print coupled with memories and experiences. I'm raring to start the intermediate class and then on to advanced after that. This could be the route to a Diploma? Dare to dream? I choose to stay awake and do it. I am a quadriplegic who has no finger movement, paralyzed from chest down, can't walk, can't comb my hair among so many other can'ts. Yet I set out to accomplish the task of learning and doing artworks with mouth held brushstrokes beside able-bodied classmates. I did it without the security of my home studio where everything is catered to my disability. The deal was to leave my comfort zone and face the constraints of being in an actual art class in an art school. It was an ultimate high to receive the certificate. It was a high bordering on the illegal. It was almost as good as being able to walk again. Almost. Epilogue
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Copyright © Gilbert Tan 2003. All Rights Reserved
Chinese painting, especially the 'xieyi' style which I prefer has a spiritual aspect which requires spontaneity coupled with boldness, even strength in execution of strokes. It makes for a distinct disadvantage for one with physical limitations. Watercolors though versatile have unpredictable qualities so much so that you can't really forge a watercolor work convincingly. I have tried watercolors before as it uses similar techniques with Chinese painting but with varying degrees of success.
Yet when I enrolled for the class, the stress of multiple unknowns came into play. Are my caregivers allowed in class to help me? Not to paint itself but in virtually anything everything physical such as setting up the tripod, wearing artist's apron, wiping and washing paintbrushes, squeezing paint from tubes etc. When the initial enquiries were able to address my concerns, the administration was completed. I paid the course fees of S$380 for the 8 sessions. I was ready for my first lesson.
Our first session was orientation, all the pupils getting to know each other and the list of materials to buy and bring for next Thursday's class. Assorted brushes, palettes, canvas boards, paints and nitty-gritty stuff like cut newspapers and plastic disposable aprons and plastic bags to throw rubbish in. How much and what type of turpentine, linseed oil, different containers were elaborated. With each item discussed, I learnt something new. It was an exciting beginning.
It was a real joy for me to paint with a group as I had been plugging away mostly alone all these years. It's a vastly different experience to saturate in this environment where each moment could reveal added insights of skill, technique and knowledge. Somehow my Chinese Painting habits crept insidiously into my oil brushstroke. Chan Kerk would tell me to slow down, don't use too much paint, and hold back a bit. I was too eager going into the process. My gung-ho style was reminiscent of what I usually paint i.e. Chinese painting. Trying to keep up to speed with my classmates also made me rush and therefore likely to make mistakes. So I had to tell myself to calm down. I took deep breaths as I considered each stroke.
Mixing and using colors proved to be both exciting and exasperating. A still-life of an apple and a banana provided the platform to perform. I must say the display looked deceptively simple but conveying the image on canvas was not. Struggling through this lesson, I was able to recognise my weaknesses. My shadow colors were too dirty, a case of too lazy to wipe my brush cleaner or too many colors in the mix? My dexterity in gripping the brush with the mouth was stretched to maximum. Balance with close control was the key. I tried to my utmost to redeem the look of my shadows to where Chan Kerk would say "Ok, don't look so muddy now!"
Next was a more complicated combination of 3 items of differing colors. An unconventional structure of a plaster cast of a foot mounted on a pedestal was the next level test. It was positioned besides a brown clay pigeon model with the quintessential pear taking middle foreground. Sometimes the concentration of the whole class intensified to a remarkable silence. Everyone was doing the best they could. After that, the usual post painting assessment was conducted with comments about each other's effort. It was sometimes humorous at times incisive always friendly. We will round off the class with washing and packing. Some will adjourn to a nearby coffee shop, others make a rush for buses or taxis and my companions and I will stride towards Dhoby Ghaut station for a tired train ride home.
