The Versatile Master Artist

Chapter 292 - 169: Mrs. Gu’s Master_2

Nonetheless,

the palace painters’ interpretation is more romantic.

"My father told me that this jade color is where the spirits of generations of ancestors reside, every time they paint a picture. The dark ink slowly seeps along the brush shaft, staining the yellow bamboo shaft into emerald jade. Thus, ’jade seep’ is often called ’ink emerald’ or ’heart blood color’ by old painters."

Gu Weijing’s gaze swept across the rosewood painting box.

Inside the box, the exquisite detailing brushes as thick as a baby’s little finger and two small brushes have already been completely seeped into a bright emerald color. The medium-sized brush in Elder’s hand is almost entirely green.

Only the largest brush used for freehand ink wash landscape paintings still has a distinct earthy yellow color, but one-third of it also shows signs of jading.

"A painter can only nurture rice grain-sized color spots over the four seasons of a year. A jade color the size of a fingernail takes ten years. To cultivate the appearance you see, it takes tireless pen farming for two or three cycles of sixty years, otherwise, it’s impossible."

"In the past, there was an old bamboo brush that was worth a hundred taels of silver."

When speaking of family heirloom brushes, Elder Gu’s tone was somewhat proud.

"It’s not about how pricey things are, but nowadays antique brushes are common in the market. Yet, these old brushes that have been used are almost extinct. Mr. Cao Xuan is undoubtedly a preeminent maestro in painting world, but he may struggle to have a set of family heirloom brushes like this."

"Even Elder Cao might envy them."

Gu Weijing knew that his grandfather’s words, though containing a hint of self-promotion, were at least seventy percent true.

People can nurture brushes, and brushes can also nurture people.

Actually, brushes are much like musical instruments,

a legendary antique violin made by the master craftsman Stradivari worth ten million dollars and a contemporary handcrafted violin by the top violin maker worth one hundred thousand dollars may not have much tonal difference.

Certainly not worth the exaggerated price difference of nine million nine hundred thousand dollars.

Yet, any world-class violinist will always choose an antique violin to perform. Some orchestra concertmasters have violins passed down from 1750 to the present.

Holding a famous violin changes your mindset entirely.

The same applies to brushes.

Worldwide, with approximately one hundred US dollars of purchasing power, it’s easy to buy a brush from stationary stores whose craftsmanship level is definitely above average and very easy to use.

Painters opt to buy brushes that cost dozens or even hundreds of times this price, not because there’s any fundamental difference in the brushes, but because holding a brush worth one hundred dollars and one worth ten thousand dollars puts one in different emotional states.

Just like a Japanese oil painter used to use only an expensive brand of natural mineral pigment, and a renowned illustrator once declared he used custom-made platinum pens from Pelikan Germany only for his illustrations.

Either they have private agency agreements with the equipment companies, or they simply pursue this feeling, this vibe.

You might even understand it as vanity, albeit positive vanity.

Expensive painting tools bring an emotional boost from their wealth, just holding the brush feels more impressive.

All luxury-brand painting tool makers generally promote not craftsmanship, but narratives.

For instance, the master-level painting tool manufacturer Lukes, gifted to Gu Weijing by Old Yang, is eternally promoted as Van Gogh’s preferred supplies.

The company’s main appeal is that "buying our tools brings you one step closer to being a great artist," attracting art students who aren’t financially constrained.

Let’s rationally judge this: with Van Gogh’s financial status back then, what great tools could he afford?

For Chinese painters,

holding a set of old brushes naturally imparts a serene, stable force, like being blessed with some kind of beneficial charm.

Chinese painting masters grew up in Eastern culture, perhaps viewing wealth as no more than dirt and holding gold and jewels in disregard.

There are masters who dine on simple meals and wear coarse clothes every day, but one never hears of any who willingly use poor-quality brushes, ink, paper, or ink stones.

Such family-heirloom brushes, Elder Cao knows, indeed might evoke envy.

Not simply because of their age and elegance.

This emotional connection and soul linkage brought by ancestral heritage affects a painter’s sentiment, incomparably beyond the vanity stirred by those high-grade western luxury-brand tools adorned in gold and silver.

Completely different leagues.

Ancestors in Dongxia culture are divine patrons safeguarding future generations.

Even just looking at this set of brushes, Gu Weijing can feel an almost religious solemn reverence.

Like hearing a midnight bell suddenly ringing under a bright moon, with the distant chanting of an old monk, bringing a calming force.

To put it simply.

When using these brushes, unless due to the technique itself, actively wanting to earn a perfunctory review might be challenging.

This is the tranquil power of the spirit.

"Look, your great-grandfather, my great-grandfather... all the ancestors are watching the Gu family’s heir of this generation."

Gu Tongxiang switched off the room’s spotlight and took out the candlestick from the cabinet.

Myanmar’s electricity supply is not very stable; not only has the Good Fortune Orphanage not connected to the grid, but even the bustling tourist area where Gu’s Calligraphy and Painting Shop is located occasionally experiences power cuts, so every household keeps candlesticks and candles.

The old man lit the candle with a lighter.

Gu Tongxiang pinched the brush shaft with his fingertip and carefully held it towards the candlelight. The flame flickered, the bamboo brush took on a jade-like sheen, reflecting the old man’s whole finger into a deep pool-like green.

The surface of the Fugong Dragon Bamboo naturally bore eyes-like patterns,

Maybe it’s an illusion, as the firelight flickered,

it seemed like ancestors from a hundred years past, through this small brush, were gazing at the Gu descendants of this generation.

"They’re yours now. Use them to paint."

"This...is too precious."

Gu Weijing even dared not accept this brush from his grandfather’s hand.

It’s not about how much it’s worth,

The painting tools given by Old Yang, Gu Weijing uses them casually in daily life without pressure; if they are only luxury items, they are nice to have but not essential.

If he lost them, he’d just laugh it off,

If he has money, he can buy them again.

The ancestors’ heritage, if he inadvertently misplaces it in daily life, it’s a guilt that not even Mount Jinyin could compensate.

"No need for pressure, a pot inevitably breaks at the well. Even if it breaks while painting, it’s a better fate for the brush than accumulating dust in the safe; the ancestors wouldn’t blame you."

Elder Gu first offered comforting words.

He pondered for a moment, still uneasy, and turned to caution: "Of course, that’s what I say. If I find out you’re not taking care or if it’s chipped or bumped, see if I don’t scold you."

"Oh, the official seals and such of the first-class painter are just as a keepsake. But the seals you can use on your own calligraphy and painting as well. You currently don’t have your private seal, it’s time you officially began using seals."

Oil paintings are signed, Chinese paintings stamped.

Seals are the most important personal mark in Dongxia culture.

Even now, in Japan, personal seals are more vital than handwritten signatures; almost everyone has their own seal.

In calligraphy and painting works,

there are "Preface seals" for the top of a work, "Border Guard seals" for delineating the paper’s boundary, and "Stamping Foot seals," or also called "Signature seals," that symbolize identity.

Additionally, more detailed seals such as Year seals, Seasonal seals, which you can choose to stamp or not.

The trio of Mutton Fat Jade seals already comprises the essential seal types.

Stamping these on Chinese painting rice paper or silk cloth makes an unmistakable Gu’s private mark.

In modern times, Chinese painters actually abide by fewer traditions, rules have been simplified greatly, if you want to avoid hassle, stamping just one seal is also accepted.

"In my youth, I only used the [Diligent and Self-reliant] seal; the remaining [Master of Gu’s] and [Divinely Inspired] seals, I felt disgraced their meaning by stamping them on my works, so I never touched them. I hope you, Gu Weijing, someday feel you can confidently stamp these three seals on your works without blushing, honoring your ancestors." Elder Gu said.