Category Archives: 2013

Q: Have you ever worked outside?

Reproductions of "Cardinal Rule" (top) and "Blue Ego," originals are soft pastel on sandpaper, 30" x 38"

Reproductions of “Cardinal Rule” (top) and “Blue Ego,” originals are soft pastel on sandpaper, 30″ x 38″

A:  As a pastel artist I’ve never worked outside – with so many pastels, it’s just not practical – but early on in the “Domestic Threats” series, I created two outdoor setups.  Works in the series derived from elaborate scenes that I arranged and then photographed.  

I used to take long walks along the Potomac River in Alexandria, VA, and there was a tree stump that was fascinating.  It was mostly twisted roots, knotty branches, dark hidden spaces, etc. (top painting in photo).  One morning I took several hand puppets and stuffed animals (my subject matter at the time) and carefully arranged them on the tree.  Around me people were busy exercising their dogs.  Soon I attracted quite a bit of attention – a tall blonde woman playing with puppets on a tree stump!  Dogs came over to sniff.  Their owners came over, too, and I was pressed into explaining, again and again, that I was an artist, that I was photographing this scene so I could paint it, etc.  The interruptions were very annoying.

The second time I tried an outdoor setup was again along the Potomac River, but this time I selected a secluded strip of beach where I was undisturbed.  I had forgotten to consider the light and inadvertently chose a cloudy day.  I remember being disappointed that the light was flat and lacking shadows.  The painting (bottom in photo) turned out to be one of my least favorites. 

I resolved from then on to focus on interiors.  Alfred Hitchcock famously used rear projection so that he could work in a studio rather than on location.  One reason, he said, was that in a studio he had total control.  I know what he meant.  When I set up an interior scene and position the lights to make interesting shadows, indeed, I have control over the whole look.  No aspect is left to chance.   The accidents – improvements! – happen later when I work on the painting.  

Comments are welcome!    

Pearls from artists* # 47

Grand Falls, AZ

Grand Falls, AZ

* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

An artist can expect no help from his peers.  Any art form which is not his own must be intolerable to him and upsets him to the highest degree.  I have seen Claude Debussy ill at the orchestral rehearsals of Le Sacre.  His soul was discovering its splendour.  The form that he had given to his soul was suffering from another that did not accord with its own contours.  Therefore no help.  Neither from our peers nor from a mob incapable of consenting without revolt to a violent break with the habits it had begun to form.  Whence will help come?  From no one.  And it is then that art begins to use the obscure stratagems of nature in a kingdom which resists it, which even seems to fight it or turn its back upon it. 

Jean Cocteau in The Difficulty of Being

Comments are welcome!  

Q: What’s on the easel today?

Work in progress

Work in progress

A:  I’m continuing work on “Judas,” a piece I started some weeks ago.  A second in-progress pastel-on-sandpaper painting is on the right in the photo above.  

Comments are welcome! 

Pearls from artists* # 46

Artist's backyard

Artist’s backyard

* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

Some things will naturally excite us more than others.  This is where art begins, when we separate our inner-directed impulse from the outer-directed deluge of other people’s work and opinion.  “The artists are the ones who bare themselves to this experience of essence… Their vocation is to communicate that experience to others.  Not to communicate it is to surrender the vision to atrophy; the artist must paint, or write, or sculpt – else the vision withers away and he or she is less apt to have it again.”

The trick is to be able to learn to juggle at least two things at once.  We need to keep the initial impulse in its entirety before us as we start engaging in the execution of the parts.

Ian Roberts in Creative Authenticity:  Sixteen Principles to Clarify and Deepen Your Artistic Vision

Comments are welcome!

Q: How do you decide on the titles for your pastel paintings?

"Stigmata," soft pastel on sandpaper, 28" x 48"

“Stigmata,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 28″ x 48″

A:  Usually a title suggests itself over the course of the months I spend on a painting.  Sometimes it comes from a book I’m reading, from a piece of music, a film, bits of overheard conversation.  A title can come from anywhere, but finding the best one is key.  I like what Jean Cocteau says about this:

One title alone exists.  It will be, so it is.  Time conceals it from me.  How discover it, concealed by  a hundred others?  I have to avoid the this, the that.  Avoid the image.  Avoid the descriptive and the undescriptive.  Avoid the exact meaning and the inexact.  The soft, the hard.  Neither long nor short.  Right to catch the eye, the ear, the mind.  Simple to read and to remember.  I had announced several.  I had to repeat them twice and the journalists still got them wrong.  My real title defies me.  It enjoys its hiding place, like a child one keeps calling, and whom one believes drowned in the pond.    

Once I have the best title, I make sure it fits the painting exactly.  How I do that is difficult to explain.  It’s an intuitive process that involves adjusting colors, shapes, and images so that they fit the painting’s meaning, i.e., the meaning hinted at by the title.

Comments are welcome!        

Pearls from artists* # 45

iPad photo

iPad photo

* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

Why do you write plays?  I am asked by the novelist.  Why do you write novels?  I am asked by the dramatist.  Why do you make films?  I am asked by the poet.  Why do you draw?  I am asked by the critic.  Why do you write?  I am asked by the draughtsman.  Yes, why?  I wonder.  Doubtless so that my seed may be blown all over the place.  I know little about this breath within me, but it is not gentle.  It does not care for the sick.  It is unmoved by fatigue.  It takes advantage of my gifts.  It wants to do its part.  It is not inspiration, it’s expiration one should say.  For this breath comes from a zone in man into which man cannot descend, even if Virgil were to lead him there, for Virgil himself did not descend into it.

Jean Cocteau in The Difficulty of Being

Comments are welcome!  

Q: How do you organize your studio?

Barbara's studio

Barbara’s studio

A:  Of course, my studio is first and foremost set up as a work space.  The easel is at the back and on either side are two rows of four tables, containing thousands of soft pastels.

Enticing busy collectors, critics, and gallerists to visit is always difficult, but sometimes someone wants to make a studio visit on short notice so I am ready for that.  I have a selection of framed recent paintings and photographs hanging up and/or leaning against a wall.  For anyone interested in my evolution as an artist, I maintain a portfolio book with 8″ x 10″ photographs of all my pastel paintings, reviews, press clippings, etc.  The portfolio helps demonstrate how my work has changed during my nearly three decades as a visual artist.  

Comments are welcome!        

Pearls from artists* # 44

Studio view

Studio view

* 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 cannot even imagine the individual arts sufficiently distinct from one another.  This admittedly exaggerated attitude might have its most acute origin in the fact that in my youth, I, quite inclined toward painting, had to decide in favor of another art so as not to be distracted.  And thus I made this decision with a certain passionate exclusivity.  Based on my experience, incidentally, every artist needs to consider for the sake of intensity his means of expression to be basically the only one possible while he is producing.  For otherwise he could not easily suspect that this or that piece of world would not be expressible by his means at all and he would finally fall into that most interior gap between the individual arts, which is surely wide enough and could be genuinely bridged only by the vital tension of the great Renaissance masters.  We are faced with the task of deciding purely, each one alone, on his one mode of expression, and for each creation that is meant to be achieved in this one area all support from the other arts is a weakening and a threat.

Ulrich Baer, editor, The Wisdom of Rilke

Comments are welcome!

Q: What is your best time of day to paint?

The High Line - Barbara's morning commute to the studio

The High Line – Barbara’s  morning commute to the studio

A:  I have always been an early riser and a morning person, from my student pilot days when I’d be at an airport in New Jersey ready to takeoff in a Cessna by 6 a.m., through my days as a Naval officer starting work at the Pentagon at 7, until now when I typically get up before 6 (thanks to my cat, who likes to eat breakfast early).  Always I am most energetic in the mornings so that’s when I am most productive and have my best ideas.  Generally, I try to arrive at the studio before 10 a.m. and work until 5 p.m. or later.

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 43

Boulder, CO

Boulder, CO

* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

Why would anyone read a book instead of watching big people move on a screen?  Because a book can be literature.  It is a subtle thing – a poor thing, but our own.  In my view, the more literary the book – the more purely verbal, crafted sentence by sentence, the more imaginative, reasoned, and deep – the more likely people are to read it.  The people who read are the people who like literature, after all, whatever that might be.  They like, or require, what books alone have.  If they want to see films that evening, they will find films.  If they do no like to read, they will not.  People who read are not too lazy to flip on the television; they prefer books.  I cannot imagine a sorrier pursuit than struggling for years to write a book that attempts to appeal to people who do not read in the first place.   

Annie Dillard in The Writing Life

Comments are welcome!