Category Archives: 2017

Q: Would you share your current elevator pitch?

Barbara’s studio

Barbara’s studio

A:  Here it is:

I live in New York and have been a working artist for more than thirty years.  I create original pastel paintings that use my large collection of Mexican and Guatemalan folk art – masks, carved wooden animals, papier mache figures, and toys – as subject matter.  

Blending with my fingers, I spend months painstakingly applying dozens of layers of soft pastel onto acid-free sandpaper.  My self-invented technique achieves extraordinarily rich, vibrant color and results in paintings that uniquely combine reality, fantasy, and autobiography.

My background is extremely unusual for an artist.  I am a pilot, a retired Navy Commander, and a 9/11 widow.  Besides making art, I am a published author and blogger best known for my eBook, “From Pilot to Painter,” on Amazon and iTunes, and my popular blog, “Barbara Rachko’s Colored Dust.”

Please see images and more at http://barbararachko.art/en/

Comments are welcome!  

Pearls from artists* # 280

"Palaver,"soft pastel on sandpaper, 26" x 20"

“Palaver,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 26″ x 20″

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

What is the task?  To compose a work that communicates on several levels, as in a parable, devoid of the stain of cleverness.

What is the  dream?  To write something fine, that would be better than I am, and that would justify my trials and indiscretions.  To offer proof, through a scramble of words, that God exists.

Who do I write?  My finger, as a stylus, traces the question in the blank air.  A familiar riddle posed since youth, withdrawing from play, comrades and the valley of love, girded with words, a beat outside.

Why do we write?  A chorus erupts.

Because we cannot simply live. 

Patti Smith in Devotion

Comments are welcome!

Travel photo of the month*

First snow of the season, Washington, DC

First snow of the season, Washington, DC

*Favorite travel photographs that have not yet appeared in this blog.

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 279

"Offering," soft pastel on sandpaper, 20" x 26"

“Offering,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 20″ x 26″

* 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 is one compelled to write?  To set oneself apart, cocooned, rapt in solitude, despite the wants of others.  Virginia Woolf had her room.  Proust his shuttered windows.  Marguerite Duras her muted house.  Dylan Thomas his modest shed.  All seeking an emptiness to imbue with words.  The words that will penetrate virgin territority, crack unclaimed combinations, articulate the infinite. The words that formed Lolita, The Lover, Our Lady of the Flowers.  

There are stacks of notebooks that speak of years of aborted efforts, deflated euphoria, a relentless pacing of the boards.  We must write, engaging in a myriad of struggles, as if breaking in a willful foal.  We must write, but not without consistent effort and a measure of sacrifice:  to channel the future, to revisit childhood, and to rein in the follies and horrors of the imagination for a pulsating race of readers. 

Patti Smith in Devotion

Comments are welcome!

Q: What’s on the easel today?

Work in progress

Work in progress

A:  I’m trying to finish “Oracle,” but every time I think I’m getting close, I see there are plenty of unresolved areas and/or things I can still improve.

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* #278

National Museum of Ethnography and Folklore, La Paz, Bolivia

National Museum of Ethnography and Folklore, La Paz, Bolivia

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

Inspiration is an unforeseen quantity, the muse that assails at the hidden hour.  The arrows fly and one is unaware of being struck, and that a host of unrelated catalysts have joined clandestinely to form a system of its own, rendering one with the vibrations of an incurable disease – a burning imagination – at once unholy and divine. 

Patti Smith in Devotion

Comments are welcome!

Q: Would you describe how you are taking soft pastel in new directions as a fine art medium?

Barbara at work, Photo: Marianne Barcellona

Barbara at work, Photo: Marianne Barcellona

A:  I have been devoted to soft pastel for more than thirty years.  In this blog and in countless interviews online and elsewhere, I continue to expound on its merits.  For me no other fine art medium comes close.

I have developed my own original methods for working with soft pastel, pushing this venerable 500-year-old medium to its limits and using it in ways that no one has done before.  I have created a unique science of color in which I layer and blend pigments.  When viewers (including fellow artists) see my work in person for the first time, they often ask, “What medium is this?”  

My self-invented techniques for using soft pastel achieve rich velvety textures and exceptionally vibrant color.  Blending with my fingers, I painstakingly apply dozens of layers of pastel onto acid-free sandpaper.  In addition to the thousands of pastels that I have to choose from, I blend new colors directly on the paper.  Each pastel painting takes about three months and hundreds of hours to complete. 

My subject matter is singular.  I am drawn to Mexican, Guatemalan, and Bolivian cultural objects—masks, carved wooden animals, papier mâché figures, and toys.  On trips to these places and elsewhere I frequent local mask shops, markets, and bazaars searching for the figures that will populate my pastel paintings.  How, why, when, and where these objects come into my life is an important part of the creative process.  Each pastel painting is a highly personal blend of reality, fantasy, and autobiography.

Comments are welcome!  

Pearls from artists* # 277

Lake Titicaca above Cocabana, Bolivia

Lake Titicaca above Cocacabana, Bolivia

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

 Einstein wrote, “The most beautiful experience  we can have is the mysterious.  It is the fundamental emotion which stands at the cradle of true art and true science.”  What did Einstein mean by “the mysterious?”  I don’t think he meant that science is full of unpredictable or unknowable supernatural forces.  I believe that he meant a sense of awe, a sense that there are things larger than us, that we do not have all the answers at this moment.  A sense that we can stand right at the edge between known and unknown and gaze into that cavern and be exhilarated rather than frightened.  Just as Einstein suggested, I have experienced that beautiful mystery both as a physicist and as a novelist.  As a physicist, in the infinite mystery of physical nature.  As a novelist, in the  infinite mystery of human nature and the power of words to portray some of that mystery.     

Alan Lightman in A Sense of the Mysterious:  Science and the Human Spirit

Comments are welcome!

Start/Finish of “Stalemate,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 38″ x 58″

Start

Start

Finished and signed, lower right

Finished and signed, lower right

Comments are welcome!

 

 

 

Pearls from artists* # 276

The West Village

The West Village

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

 A long time later, after I  became a novelist, I realized that the ambiguities of the human mind are what give fiction and perhaps all art its power.  A good novel gets under our skin, provokes us and haunts us long after the first reading, because we never fully understand the characters.  We sweep through the narrative over and over again, searching for meaning.  Good characters must retain a certain mystery and unfathomable depth, even for the author.  Once we see to the bottom of their hearts, the novel is dead for us.

Eventually, I learned to appreciate both certainty and uncertainty.  Both are necessary in the world.  Both are part of being human.  

Alan Lightman in A Sense of the Mysterious:  Science and the Human Spirit

Comments are welcome!