What Does That Little Block Say On Some Of Your Paintings?

A question I get asked almost weekly. “what does that little block say on some of your paintings?”

As it goes, on my first trip to the China Coast back in 2010, I started out in Singapore. After a few nights stay at the amazing Marina Bay Sands Hotel, I wrapped up my visit in this very clean and beautiful city with a nail bitting swim in the hotel’s infinity pool. This pool extends to the very edge of the roof, sixty-two stories up, with city views that don’t disappoint. Soon after, I departed on a ship headed up the China Coast eventually destined for Shanghai.

Throughout my journey I was on the hunt for something special, a meaningful memento or souvenir to mark my trip. This task seemed to elude me, until I reached my destination in Shanghai. As I understood it to be the year of the dragon at the time, and then finding out that I was born in the year of the dragon, I now need to be on the lookout for some kind of dragon of course. My fortune eventually turned as I was walking through the old city. An elderly man caught my eye, he was sitting in a little shack which had a few small shelves and tables full of interesting-looking goods. Scanning over his items, I spied these beautiful tall sticks of Red Jade. On the top of one was hand carved, an intricate dragon wrapping around the top of the stick. I unfortunately had no idea what the stick was, outside of a nice piece of carved Red Jade.

I asked if I could purchase the stick. The man handed me a four-inch-thick paperback book full of surnames. He then said in his best english, “find name.” So with some confusion as to what was going to happen next, I couldn’t imagine that my last name would be in a book in Shanghai. I flipped through with some doubt, but lo and behold, there it was, in the two different spellings even. The traditional spelling of GUITON, as well as the Ellis Island conversion of GUYTON. In his very well-used book, next to my names were the Mandarin characters that made up the phonics, or the sound of my surname. Well, I just had to buy it now! Unfortunately, I still didn’t know what he was going to do with my name once I pointed it out. Until he got out a small set of carving knives and files, and proceeded to carve three characters into the bottom of the stick of Red Jade, which were the phonics, or sound, of my last name in Mandarin. I was in awe at how this simple souvenir became so personal and special so quickly.

As the man finished the carving, he cut out a small piece of paper about two inches square, set down a tin of red stamping ink and pressed the bottom of the Red Jade stick which he just engraved, into the red ink and pressed it firmly onto the cut paper square. A perfect stamp. The first pressing. He also told me to make sure the dragon’s face looks forward when I use it, so it would read correctly.

As I was completing the purchase, he gently laid the freshly carved chop stamp in a beautiful silk-lined fabric box. He also included the metal-cased pad of red ink, along with the very first impression made with the stamp.

Returning home after my trip, I set the box in my office display case. One day, shortly thereafter, I made a piece of art that had a lot of negative space in the upper left hand corner. Remembering the chop stamp, becoming the first of many paintings to feature the stamp.

People ask why I don’t use it on all my art. I’ll tell them that I only like to use it when I have the need for it. Its main use for me is more on the technical side. I like to use it to fill a necessary or difficult negative space, balance the visual weight of a painting or to balance the visual color distribution of a painting. Some odd shaped works need what’s referred to as an “eye stop” and the chop stamp works perfectly for that as well.

All in all it has become an unexpected icon, a traveller in my designs, and to this day, one of the best “souvenirs” I’ve ever had a chance to acquire.