The Versatile Master Artist-Chapter 80 - 72: Chinese Painting Upgrade
The winter passed and spring came, as time stepped into early February.
As the last trace of the festive air gradually dissipated, Gu Weijing stood in the studio, gazing into the open Yangon River in the distance.
The view here was excellent; in this season without clouds and rain, one could see the primitive jungles outside the city and the rising smoke from within.
Excluding the inconvenient traffic and muddy roads, Yangon is a very beautiful place.
Very few cities are like it, so beautiful yet so decayed, evoking emotions amidst contradictions.
The former prosperity seems like a colonial dream exclusive to foreign lords in old photos, and when the dream fades, only desolation remains.
In front of Gu Weijing, the pen’s tip gently pulled a line of black ink on the rice paper, bringing this Yangon’s ink landscape painting to a close.
[Chinese Painting Techniques: Tier One Professional (201/5000)]
[Emotion: Simple Works]
A new prompt came from the task panel.
Gu Weijing put down the pen, seeing the ink still wet, he casually picked up his phone, took a photo, found Professor Lin Tao in his WeChat contacts, and sent it.
"This is the ’Yangguang Mountain and River Map’ I just painted on a whim, does it have a bit of a beginner’s touch?"
Gu Weijing typed on his phone.
This holiday was unusually busy for him.
Every working day he had to go to the Great Golden Pagoda for a mural restoration project, finish Nutshell submissions after returning home at night, and even visit the orphanage on weekends.
However, the rewards were also abundant.
With Elder Cao’s occasional guidance, insights from "Mojie’s Handwriting" regarding color, and his decision to allocate some free experience points to Chinese Painting Techniques,
These three aspects complemented each other, naturally making his Chinese Painting Technique the second breakthrough after sketching to surpass the semi-professional barrier and reach the level of a professional painter.
The reason he sent the message to Lin Tao.
Was because this professor, whether as a master or senior, is now Gu Weijing’s guide.
Although Elder Cao appreciates Gu Weijing.
As a world-class artist, it’s natural for him not to have the time or energy to be devoted to this beginner every day.
Gu Weijing added both Professor Lin Tao and Assistant Old Yang’s WeChat, so he could communicate with Professor Lin Tao anytime regarding painting issues.
This "Yangguang Mountain and River Map" is the first complete ink painting he created after breaking through Tier One in Chinese painting.
He wanted to ask Professor Lin Tao to take a look at his painting.
...
In Yangon’s wealthy area,
Aman Group International Hotel.
Professor Lin Tao, having just attended a celebration banquet, returned to his room, somewhat weary, and leaned against the bed.
The first phase of the Great Golden Pagoda mural restoration project was nearing completion during this Spring Festival holiday.
Professional personnel in the true field of cultural relic restoration and those responsible for the completion of monument protection and related work would continue for another two years.
But for those painter artists responsible for the artwork, they had done almost everything possible and couldn’t stay in Yangon indefinitely.
Great painters like Professor Lin Tao all have their own work arrangements.
Ordinary faculty members from various art academies also need to return to school to teach after the semester starts; being able to stay in Yangon for a month during the Spring Festival is already a rare leisure.
Many people want to use the last week of free time to take a good rest.
For instance, visiting tourist attractions, or enjoying hotel services.
Professor Lin Tao certainly doesn’t lack money, but such free five-star executive suite treatment isn’t always available.
Especially on business trips.
The funding from Dongxia’s universities is substantial, but the accommodation standards and meal allowances for a full professor are only a few hundred bucks; thinking about staying at Aman or Hilton for daily business trips is out of the question.
Only for international cooperation projects, does Yangon’s local tourism office put considerable effort into hosting these artists.
He picked up the phone beside him and dialed the hotel’s concierge.
The younger professors at this time would still think of going to the hotel’s membership gym, taking photos on the treadmill, sprinkling some mineral water on their clothes, and posting a WeChat moment to pretend to live a refined and tasteful intellectual life.
At Lin Tao’s level, he no longer cared about these trivial matters.
He packed the ice jade bracelet worth sixty thousand dollars he bought for his wife into his suitcase, comfortably collapsed onto the bed, and booked a Thai spa.
"Sawasdee Ka!"
After a while, a young man wearing a hotel badge, dressed in traditional Thai clothing, pushed a cart laden with essential oils and fragrances into the room.
Professor Lin Tao, draped in a bathrobe, with AirPods in his ears playing his favorite operas, sprawled out on the bed, humming and letting the young man knead him as if kneading dough.
"...The Great King does not descend, oh, oh, it’s a minister’s sin, Bo Party... oh, how dare one deceive the master, uh?"
The spa specialist at Aman Hotel had absolutely exquisite skills, the young man was strong, and his understanding of acupoints was precise.
Professor Lin Tao was humming in comfort.
When he heard a "Ding" from his WeChat.
He generally had unimportant chats set to no notifications, so upon hearing the WeChat notification sound, he looked up.
"This is the ’Yangguang River and Mountain Painting’ I just painted on a whim, does it have a bit of a beginner’s touch?"
He saw a new message from Gu Weijing.
Beginner?
Young man, you still can’t hold your breath.
Professor Lin Tao laughed.
Their relationship was now quite subtle.
The other party would most likely become his apprentice, the chances of becoming his junior brother... well, one couldn’t entirely say it’s impossible... after all, some people do get struck by lightning on the streets, but Professor Lin wasn’t at all optimistic about it.
In any case, Gu Weijing now counted as half a disciple of Cao Xuan.
Master asked Lin Tao to take some time to guide this young man.
All he did was send him a set of Central Academy of Fine Arts’ open courses on Chinese painting and left it at that.
It’s not that Lin Tao wasn’t dedicated to teaching.
But Chinese painting, well, has always been difficult to learn and even harder to master.
Oil painting, whether one has talent or not, can at least familiarize with the general process after studying for a while.
Many students who haven’t come into contact with Chinese painting, after studying for a year or so—can’t even master the eight basic brushwork techniques of pressing, sweeping, hooking, lifting, pushing, dragging, guiding, and sending.
As for higher-level painting techniques and artistic conception, it’s completely absurd.
This young Gu, although his ancestors were Imperial Painters, and he grew up in a scholarly family environment, isn’t a complete beginner.
But Lin Tao has learned about his Chinese painting level from Gu Tongxiang and has seen his previous Chinese paintings.
It’s probably pretty good among ordinary students, not outstanding.
It can’t compare to his exceptional sketching foundation, nor can it match his innate talent for Chinese painting pigments, which is full of agility.
Lin Tao has nothing else to teach him right now.
In the field of Chinese painting,
Is having a good master important?
Of course it’s extremely important, much more so than having a teacher for Western paintings.
Chinese painting not only focuses on technique but also on artistic conception.
Western painting techniques also pay attention to conception.
It can be said that the more modern the art school, the more it emphasizes emotion over the realistic likeness and truth of basic objects.
In this respect, modern art schools align with Dongxia’s traditional painting philosophy.
But at least for Western painting, for relatively basic professional painters—oil painting is still a very [realistic] technique.
Where the painting is poor—whether the light and shadow haven’t been adjusted properly or the structural lines are too careless. Even if the skill isn’t good, finding out what the problem is still easy.
Almost any professor at an art academy is qualified to teach students oil painting.
Regardless of teaching quality, even at second or third-tier academies, they won’t usually mislead their students.
But Chinese painting is different,
At a certain level, having a good teacher makes a world of difference.
Many painting structures and ideas, the density of plum blossoms, the integrity of bamboo... the brushwork is the difference of a hair’s breadth, but the final result could differ by a thousand miles.
Why do so many painters beg and plead for Professor Lin Tao to look at their paintings?
Why when Elder Cao wants to give Gu Weijing a few pointers, those big professors want to linger and sneak a few lessons?
It’s because a casual remark from Elder Cao might allow someone to break through mental blocks they’ve had for years.
In many cases, even if you establish a relationship with a master and they seriously look at your painting, the conclusion they give is very general.
"The painting lacks structure," "The brushwork is obscure," "The flowers are too coquettish," "The snow mountains are too cold"...
As for what the hell it means that peach blossoms are too coquettish, snow mountains are too cold.
Hehe,
Figure it out yourself.
Once you understand it, improving your painting skill is routine.
Can’t figure it out, and pondering over these words for three, five, ten, or even a dozen years isn’t uncommon.
Chinese painting has a strong personal attribute, difficult to impart en masse.
If you really want someone to teach you hand in hand, guiding your mistakes—sorry, masters are very busy, this is treatment reserved for personal disciples only.
This is after reaching a certain technique level.
Gu Weijing’s previous level in Chinese painting, from Lin Tao’s point of view, is still at a novice stage.
It’s not about advanced techniques at all.
Just like the martial arts training in old Hong Kong and Taiwan wuxia novels.
Newcomers first learn stances, stepping on plum blossom piles, young monks drawing water for the temple to build strength.
Is there profound martial arts?
There is.
But in the matter of teaching others stance practice, whether it’s a martial arts teacher at the village entrance, a household guard in a big mansion, or top-notch masters like Qiu Chuji, Wang Chongyang, or Zhang Sanfeng, the difference isn’t too big.
Lin Tao told Gu Weijing to come find him for guidance once he has painted a work he’s satisfied with.
Unexpectedly, after just a few days.
This young Gu already feels he’s got it.
Got it?
"Ultimately he’s just a kid, impatient, can’t keep still."
Lin Tao found it amusing.
He doesn’t look down on Gu Weijing yet; wanting encouragement is natural for kids.
With a great opportunity like being Elder Cao’s personal disciple, something akin to a big goldmine in modern art history waiting ahead, even if Lin Tao views it as nothing more than water reflected in the moon, flowers seen in a mirror.
It’s normal for him to be ambitious and want to show off.
Just perhaps a bit too eager for success.
It’s understandable; if he were to gain Elder Cao’s admiration at this age, Lin Tao might as well take any random drawing to show Elder Cao, hoping to give more impressions to the master.
"Kids, even if the drawings aren’t good, should be primarily encouraged, secondarily urged."
He made up his mind, even if Gu Weijing’s painting isn’t good, he’d still encourage him.
Just should have a good talk with him, hoping he can be more earnest.
Lin Tao thought, standing up and climbing onto the bed.
While letting the Thai Spa therapist step on his back, he hummed the tune "Double Submission to Tang" and opened his phone to load the photos Gu Weijing just sent.
"...Only Wang Berdang is left now, ensuring you surrender to Tang. You don’t speak of loyalty and righteousness, you are a human-faced beast-hearted, human-faced beast-hearted, beast-hearted—oh?"
Professor Lin Tao opened the picture on his phone, letting out a nasal sound.
He stared at the image on his phone for a long time, mouth slightly open, the last line of the song stuck in his stomach.
Just then, the therapist brother extended his foot and stepped on Professor Lin Tao’s old waist.
A breath got caught in his chest and abdomen.
"Oh—oh oh oh oh oh oh oh..."
In the executive suite of the Aman Hotel, came a sound reminiscent of a rooster crowing.







