Monthly Archives: September 2017
Pearls from artists* # 267
The Lightning Field, Quemado, NM
* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
In 1968, art critic David Bourdon wrote (before The Lightning Field was built): “De Maria is after a deeper commitment on the part of the spectator, who is asked to become an agent or catalyst in the fulfillment of the work… the burden of response is placed not on the sculpture but on the spectator.
Laura Raicovich in At The Lightning Field
Comments are welcome!
Q: What’s on the easel today?
Work in progress
A: I’m working on the third pastel painting in my new “Bolivianos” series. This one is only a few days old and has no title yet.
Comments are welcome!
Pearls from artists* # 266
Washington, DC
* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
… it is easy to describe the natural objects that we can hold in our hands, or move into view, as we would describe works of art: and this conditions the kind of pleasure we take in them. They are objets trouves, jewels, treasures, whose perfection seems to radiate from themselves, as from an inner light. Landscapes by contrast are very far from works of art – they owe their appeal not to symmetry, unity and form, but to an openness, grandeur and world-like expansiveness, in which it is we and not they that are contained.
Roger Scruton in Beauty: A Very Short Introduction
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Q: Is your work fast or is it slow?
Barbara’s studio
A: I work extremely slowly. I’m a full-time artist and I spend three or four months on each pastel painting, sometimes longer if it’s an especially difficult piece.
I generally have two pastel paintings in progress and switch off when one is causing problems. The paintings tend to interact and influence each other. Having two in progress helps me resolve difficult areas quicker, plus when one is finished, I still have something to work on. So there’s rarely any dead time in my studio.
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Pearls from artists* # 265
“Colloquium,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 58″ x 38″ image, 70″ x 50″ framed
* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
I remember hearing Adolph Gottlieb on a panel once at NYU, and Adolph said, in effect – I’m not quoting him directly – “I don’t paint for the masses. I paint for the elite. The masses are not interested in what I do. They won’t understand this kind of painting that I do, and it won’t come through to them.”
I understood perfectly what he meant, and I was totally sympathetic. But the audience, which was not quite an audience of proletariat workers, but an audience of school of education, art teachers, or art teachers to be, were going out of their heads with rage just at the mention of the elite.
I think there is an elite, and there always was an elite for painting or good music or for good literature. For a long time there has been, and I don’t see anything wrong with it. What it means to a lot of people, the elite is the wealthy or something like that. Adolph, I don’t think, was referring to an elite of the wealthy, where the people run the government or something like that, but to those people who are concerned and interested in the most sophisticated, meaningful painting there is.
The Art Life: On Creativity and Career by Stuart Horodner
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Q: Would you speak about how important it was to get back to work after losing your husband on 9/11?
“She Embraced It and Grew Stronger,” 2003, the first pastel painting I completed after Bryan was killed
A: On September 11, 2001, my husband Bryan, a high-ranking federal government employee, a brilliant economist (with an IQ of 180 he is still the smartest man I’ve ever met) and a budget analyst at the Pentagon, was en route to Monterrey, CA to give his monthly guest lecture for an economics class at the Naval Postgraduate College. He had the horrible misfortune of flying out of Dulles airport and boarding the plane that was high-jacked and crashed into the Pentagon, killing 189 people. Losing Bryan was the biggest shock of my life and devastating in every possible way.
The following summer I was ready to – I HAD to – get back to work. Learning about photography and pastel painting became avenues to my well-being. I use reference photos for my paintings, so my first challenge was to learn how to use Bryan’s 4 x 5 view camera (Bryan always took these reference photos for me).
In July 2002 I enrolled in a one-week view camera workshop at the International Center of Photography in New York. Much to my surprise, I had already acquired substantial technical knowledge from watching Bryan. Still, after the initial workshop, I threw myself into this new medium and continued studying photography at ICP for several years. I began with Photography I and enrolled in many more classes until I gradually learned how to use Bryan’s extensive camera collection, to properly light my setups, and to print large chromogenic photographs in a darkroom.
In October 2009 it was very gratifying to have my first solo photography exhibition with HP Garcia in New York. (Please see http://barbararachko.art/images/PDFS/BarbaraRachko-HPGargia.pdf). I vividly remember tearing up at the opening as I imagined Bryan looking down at me with his beautiful smile, beaming as he surely would have, so proud of me for having become a respected photographer.
Continuing to make art had seemed an impossibility after Bryan’s death. However, the first large pastel painting that I created using a self-made reference photograph proved my life’s work could continue. The title of that painting, “She Embraced It and Grew Stronger,” is certainly autobiographical. “She” is me, and “it” means continuing on without Bryan and living life for both of us.
Comments are welcome!
Pearls from artists* # 264
Barbara at work, Photo: Marianne Barcellona
* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
Science brims with colorful personalities, but the most important thing about a scientific result is not the scientist who found it, but the result itself. Because that result is universal. In a sense, that result already exists. It is only found by the scientist. For me, this impersonal, disembodied character of science is both its great strength and its great weakness.
I couldn’t help comparing the situation to my other passion, the arts. In the arts, the individual is the essence. Individual expression is everything. You can separate Einstein from the equations of relativity, but you cannot separate Beethoven from the Moonlight Sonata. No one will ever write The Tempest except Shakespeare or The Trial except Kafka.
Alan Lightman in A Sense of the Mysterious: Science and the Human Spirit
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Start/Finish of “Survivors,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 20″ x 26,” 2017
Erased charcoal underdrawing
Finished and signed
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barbararachkoscoloreddust.com 