Rebirth 93: Break off the engagement at the beginning and marry Bai Fumei

Chen Yang turned around and looked at the delegations from various countries around him. His gaze was sharp as a knife, sweeping over each surprised face. A contemptuous smile appeared on his lips. He slowly shook his head, shrugged slightly, and put his hands in his pockets.

"I really don't understand, what's so difficult about this? Let alone professionals, even someone like me who's only learned this much can tell the difference after just three weeks of study. Is it really that difficult for you so-called 'international experts'? Or is it that Western eyesight is really that much worse than Eastern eyesight?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a sharp knife, piercing the frozen air in the exhibition hall. Every word carried an undeniable confidence and a hint of provocation. As Chen Yang spoke, several people immediately stood up to voice their objections, even criticizing his arrogance.

As he spoke, Chen Yang elegantly raised his right hand, his slender fingers placed in front of his lips, making a "shh" gesture to signal everyone to be quiet. His gaze calmly swept over every questioning face, his eyes containing both the unique restraint of an Easterner and a disdainful arrogance.

"Since that's the case, then let me, an 'outsider' from China, teach you 'experts' how to identify the age of oil paints! Watch closely, this is a free lesson, you won't get another chance if you don't take it." His voice was unhurried, yet every word was like a nail, as if each syllable announced that a contest between Eastern and Western authentication skills was about to begin.

Oil paints from the 1950s and 1970s represent two vastly different eras, and the changes in technology have left their mark on the canvas. Chen Yang's gaze wanders across the surface of the paintings, as if he can truly see the changes in those pigment molecules over the course of time.

Oil paints from the 50s used linseed oil as a binder and were slowly simmered using techniques passed down through generations. This traditional process was like a race against time; the oxidation process was frustratingly slow, and the gradually yellowing colors silently testified to the passage of time. As times progressed, some innovative manufacturers began to experiment boldly, switching to poppy seed oil as a substitute. This change was like a silent revolution; while it allowed the paintings to maintain their original color for longer, it was also like a stubborn child, always finding it difficult to stay still on the canvas. Chen Yang's fingers lightly traced the glass display case, his eyes gleaming with an all-knowing light. These subtle differences were as clear to him as black and white words on white paper.

"In this era, the oil paint particles are still composed of more than 30% natural mineral pigments, such as ultramarine and ochre. Early synthetic pigments had coarser particles and unstable purity." Chen Yang stood in the center of the exhibition, his gaze sweeping over the faces of every expert present, his tone exuding an undeniable confidence.

“When you look closely at oil paintings from the 50s, you will find a subtle graininess hidden under the brushstrokes. This is because it is difficult to achieve an extremely fine texture in the grinding process of natural minerals.” He approached the controversial painting, his slender fingers hovering a few centimeters above the canvas, but he did not touch it.

“Ultramarine will show a unique bluish-purple shimmer under sunlight, while ochre leaves a subtle rough texture, which is a characteristic feature of oil paintings in the 50s.” Chen Yang’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he could really see every trace on the artist’s palette decades ago through the canvas.

"Not to mention, the titanium dioxide purification technology at the time was limited, and under certain lighting angles, you could even see the reflection of tiny impurities." He shook his head slightly, a hint of sarcasm at the arrogance of the Western art world playing on his lips.

"The pigment additives use beeswax as a common thickener, which gives the image a unique semi-transparent effect, or in industry terms, a 'waxy feel'." Chen Yang's finger drew a graceful arc in the air.

“The widespread use of lead-containing desiccants has led to the formation of fine cracks that are characteristic of aging, especially in thickly coated areas. Professionals call this the ‘lead crack’ phenomenon.” He paused, looking directly at Smith as if challenging his professional standards. “I suppose the experts here are well-versed in these basics, right? After all, this is just an introductory course for undergraduates.”

"By 1970, oil paints had undergone a radical transformation," Chen Yang continued. "The main component of the binder had changed to polymerized linseed oil. This process first became popular in the United States before spreading to Europe and Asia."

He gestured with his fingers in the air, indicating the structure of chemical molecules. "The widespread use of alkyd resins has given pigments unprecedented stability, which we can identify from the unique gloss on the canvas." Chen Yang smiled slightly, his eyes scanning the gradually changing expressions of the people present.

"The oil paints of this period were easier to dry quickly and less prone to yellowing. The paintings can still look brand new after eighty years, which is unimaginable with paints from the 1950s." He raised his voice slightly, as if to emphasize an important point that could not be ignored.

"In terms of pigment particles, synthetic organic pigments account for over 60%, which has led to a qualitative leap in the purity and brightness of the colors." Chen Yang gently tapped a corner of the painting.

"For example, the quinacridone red component accounts for more than 60 percent. This chemical component, which did not exist in the 1950s, brought unprecedented brightness and durability to the red color."

Chen Yang's gaze swept across the canvas like an X-ray. "Nano-level grinding technology increases color saturation by 20%, which is particularly evident in the details of the painting. Pigments from the 1950s could not achieve this level of refinement."

"Regarding additives, lead-free cobalt desiccants have been widely used to replace lead-containing products since the 1970s." Chen Yang's voice was steady and firm. "Lead-containing products will cause the painting to turn slightly yellow over time, and the pale yellow oxide layer that is clearly visible on this painting is a characteristic reaction of lead desiccants."

His fingers hovered over the canvas, tracing an almost invisible line. "Acrylic stabilizers were introduced in the 1970s to prevent delamination, and this painting has already shown noticeable tiny peelings in the corners."

Chen Yang pointed to an inconspicuous spot in the lower right corner of the canvas. "This peeling pattern is typical of early oil paints. If acrylic stabilizers were used, this would never happen." He turned around, looked around, and his eyes revealed a glint of disdain and confidence.

“I noticed a significant difference in the degree of oxidation at the edges of the canvas compared to the center, which is another characteristic of paints from the 1950s, while paints from the 1970s tend to show a uniform aging process.”

After saying that, Chen Yang clapped his hands lightly, a confident smile on his lips, and asked the people around him, "Am I right?"

Smith, Jason, Yoshida, and the others widened their eyes slightly, staring at Chen Yang in disbelief. A look of undisguised shock and disbelief flashed in their eyes. Their previous confident expressions vanished, replaced by a sense of embarrassment at being thoroughly humiliated by their professional knowledge. Their superior attitude crumbled instantly, and a storm raged within them, like a meticulously constructed castle being swept away by a sudden flood.

He... he actually knows the composition of oil paints? This young Chinese man, who they thought was an amateur, actually knows so much about Western painting materials, and can even describe the specific chemical composition and process changes. This completely overturned their understanding.

Dean Zeng stood to the side, his gaze fixed intently on Chen Yang's retreating figure, his brow furrowed, his mind filled with doubt. He recalled Chen Yang's background information, his thoughts surging like a tide: Wasn't Chen Yang supposed to be a grand-disciple of Song Kaiyuan? Logically, he should only be proficient in antiques and collectibles, and his lineage should be the same, so how could he also understand oil painting? And not just superficially, but with complete knowledge, as if he knew it by heart.

The professional terminology flowed effortlessly from his lips, without the slightest pause or hesitation. Even he, an industry insider, was secretly taken aback by these terms related to quinacridone red, polymerized linseed oil, and alkyd resins. A flicker of unease and curiosity ran through Dean Zeng's mind; this was clearly the work of someone who had done specialized research!

“Yes, yes,” Anderson nodded emphatically beside him, a hint of disdain in his eyes, his fingers unconsciously tapping the gold cufflink on his suit sleeve. “But everyone knows that, so what does it prove? Any art school student can recite this basic knowledge.”

Chen Yang's lips curled slightly, a sharp glint in his eyes. "That explains a lot, Mr. Anderson. Sometimes the most basic knowledge can reveal the deepest secrets." His voice was unhurried, yet carried an undeniable confidence.

“Let’s look at this oil painting. To put it simply, oil paints from the 1950s were prone to cracking due to limitations in the composition of natural mineral materials and other factors.” Chen Yang’s fingertip lightly ran across the surface of the canvas without actually touching it. “The linseed oil in the paint oxidizes unevenly when it comes into contact with air. The surface dries quickly while the inner layer dries slowly. The internal stress generated by this uneven drying process is the main cause of cracking.”

He looked around to make sure everyone was listening attentively to his explanation. "Moreover, the pigments of that time did not have sufficient covering power, and their color vibrancy could not compare with modern ones. The particle size of cobalt blue was generally over 40 micrometers, which is much coarser than modern pigments."

Chen Yang continued, "Therefore, in 1956, the Dutch company Talens pioneered the vacuum degassing technology for tube-packaged pigments, with the aim of reducing cracking. This technology removes air bubbles from the pigments by vacuuming, making the pigment texture more uniform and reducing stress changes during the drying process. Experiments show that the cracking rate of pigments treated in this way is reduced by about 37%."

He clapped his hands, drawing more attention from the crowd. "Interestingly, Talens' main competitor at the time, Windsor & Newton, did not master similar technology until 1962. This led to significant differences between the two companies' products at that time, becoming one of the important markers for identifying the era."

"At this time, when abstract expressionists were painting, they had to repeatedly pile up paint to make up for the lack of coverage, which increased the risk of the paint cracking." Chen Yang imitated the painting movements, his wrist moving flexibly in the air.

"They usually need to pile up four or five layers of paint to achieve the desired effect, and each layer needs enough drying time. However, the creative impulse of artists often makes them unable to wait, resulting in the upper layer being covered before the lower layer is dry, leading to uneven drying and a significantly increased risk of cracking."

He turned to Anderson, his eyes focused and sharp. "Painters at the time even tried adding substances like beeswax and rosin to improve the properties of pigments, but the results were unsatisfactory and actually increased the difficulty of preservation. This is why the cost of restoring works from that era is generally more than 30% higher than that of modern works."

“For example, in de Kooning’s ‘Women’ series, the paint cracks are visible to the naked eye. This is caused by the oxidation of linseed oil, which is universally acknowledged. Does anyone disagree?” Chen Yang raised his voice and glanced at the faces of everyone present.

“de Kooning particularly liked to use a thick application technique that mixed white and ochre. This combination has a particularly large difference in shrinkage rate during the drying process, which leads to a higher risk of cracking. In his work ‘Woman I’, there are more than twenty obvious cracks in the upper right corner alone.”

Chen Yang paused for a moment, then bent down to examine a particular part of the painting closely. "Moreover, de Kooning was accustomed to adding turpentine to accelerate drying. This practice works well in the short term, but in the long term it will exacerbate cracking. According to restoration experts at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, the cracking rate of de Kooning's works is about 25% higher than that of other painters of the same period."

Chen Yang straightened up, put the magnifying glass back in his pocket, and continued, "What's even more interesting is that after de Kooning realized this problem later in his life, he began to try adding a small amount of resin to the paint in hopes of increasing its elasticity. Unfortunately, this approach did not fundamentally solve the problem. In his later years, he switched to a mixed medium containing acrylic acid, and the cracking situation improved."

Everyone nodded in agreement. No one would deny such a universally acknowledged issue. What surprised Dean Zeng and Secretary Li even more was that Chen Yang actually knew about de Kooning. This Chen Yang was truly a man of hidden talent! They exchanged a meaningful glance, silently exchanging their newfound understanding of Chen Yang's identity. This kid was really something else!