Category Archives: Pastel Painting
Q: What’s on the easel today?
Pastel painting in progress
A: I’m slowly working on an untitled, large, 58” x 38,” “Bolivianos” pastel painting based on a reference photo taken in La Paz in February. This one is number thirty-six in the series.
Comments are welcome!
Q: Your work has been described as “beautiful but unsettling.” How do you respond to that? (Question from “Pastel, Passion, and Perseverance: An Interview with Barbara Rachko” in .ART Odyssey: Healing)
Barbara’s Studio
A: For me, every painting I make is beautiful. Beauty is vital. I see the figures in my pastel paintings as misunderstood, colorful misfits—archetypes—certainly not terrifying or unsettling. In the studio, what I’m often doing is solving technical challenges: figuring out how to depict feathers in pastel, how to lead the viewer’s eye around the painting in complex ways using detail, contrast, and color. Meanings emerge later, when others look and bring their own perspectives. I never want to dictate interpretation. People should be free to see what speaks to them.
Comments are welcome!
Q: What’s on the easel today?
Work in progress
A: I continue slowly working on “Metamorph.” 26” x 20,” soft pastel on sandpaper.
Comments are welcome!
Q: What’s a belief or project you are committed to, no matter how long it takes? (Question from Bold Journey)
Some of my soft pastels (Girault and Sennelier)
A: For centuries, pastel was dismissed as a “second-class” medium, used mainly for sketches. My mission for the past four decades has been to prove otherwise.
Pastel is pure pigment—rich, permanent, and luminous. Great artists such as Degas, Cassatt, and Renoir used pastel for finished works, not just studies. Today, I remain dedicated to showing what pastel can achieve as a major fine art medium.
Comments are welcome!
Q: What have been the defining wounds of your life—and how have you healed them? (Question from Bold Journey)
A: The deepest wound was losing Bryan on 9/11. I resolved not to become another victim of that tragedy and chose to continue living and making art.
Because I depend on reference photographs for my work, my first hurdle was learning to use Bryan’s 4×5 view camera. He had always taken the photos for me. In 2002, I enrolled in a photography workshop at the International Center of Photography in New York. To my surprise, I had absorbed a lot just from watching him, and I went on to formally study photography for several years. In 2009, I was invited to present a solo photography exhibition in New York.
By 2003, I resumed my Domestic Threats series. The first large pastel I completed from one of my own photographs was titled She Embraced It and Grew Stronger. It was autobiographical: “she” was me, and “it” was life without Bryan.
That series ended in 2007, by which time I was finding more peace. But then I faced a new challenge: creative block. For months I struggled, but I kept showing up daily. Eventually, a breakthrough came, and I began the Black Paintings series. The dark backgrounds represented the place I had emerged from; the vibrant figures symbolized resilience and life.
In 2017, inspired by a museum exhibition in La Paz, I began Bolivianos, based on Carnival masks. Many view this as my boldest and most exciting work yet.
Comments are welcome!
Q: What’s on the easel today?
Work in progress
A: I continue slowly working on “Metamorph,” 26” x 20,” soft pastel on sandpaper.
Comments are welcome!
Start/Finish of “Magisterial,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 58” x 38”
Start
Comments are welcome!
Q: What’s on the easel today?
26” x 20” pastel painting in progress
A: I’ve just started a new “Bolivianos” pastel painting based on a photo captured at MUSEF La Paz during my February trip to Bolivia.
Comments are welcome!
Q: Many artists can’t bear to face “a blank canvas.” How do you feel about starting a new piece?
A: That’s an interesting question because I happen to be reading The War of Art by Steven Pressfield and this morning I saw this:
You know, Hitler wanted to be an artist. At eighteen he took his inheritance, seven hundred kronen, and moved to Vienna to live and study. He applied to the Academy of Fine Arts and later to the school of architecture. Ever see one of his paintings? Neither have I. Resistance beat him. Call it overstatement but I’ll say it anyway: it was easier for Hitler to start World War II than it was for him to face a blank square of canvas.
I’ve never understood this fear of “the blank canvas” because I am always excited about beginning a new painting. When you think about it, every professional artist can say, “In the history of the planet no one has ever made what I am about to make!” Once again I am looking at something new on my easel, even if it is only a blank 40” x 60” piece of sandpaper clipped to a slightly larger piece of foam core. Unlike artists who are paralyzed before “a blank canvas,” I am energized by the imagined possibilities of all that empty space! I spend up to three months on a painting so this experience of looking at a blank piece of paper on my easel happens four or five times a year at most. Excluding travel to remote places, which is essential to my work and endlessly fascinating, the first day I get to spend blocking in a new painting is the most exhilarating part of my whole creative process. This is art-making at its freest! I select the pastel colors quickly, without thinking about them, first imagining them, then feeling, looking, and reacting intuitively to what I’ve done, always correcting and trying to make the painting look better.
Comments are welcome.
Q: How do you decide when a pastel painting is finished?
“Magisterial,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 58” x 38” in progress
A: During the months that it takes to create a pastel painting, I search for arresting colors that work well together. The goal is to make a painting that I have never seen before and that leads the viewer’s eyes around in interesting ways. To do this I build up and blend together as many as 25 to 30 layers of pigment. I am able to complete some areas, like the background, fairly easily – maybe with just six or seven layers of black Rembrandt pastel. The more realistic parts of a pastel painting take many more applications. In general, details always take plenty of time to refine and perfect.
No matter how many pastel layers I apply, however, I never use fixatives. It is difficult to see this in reproductions of my work, but some of the finished surfaces achieve a texture akin to velvet. My technique involves blending each layer with my fingers, pushing the pastel deep into the tooth of the sandpaper, and mixing new colors directly on the paper. Fortunately, the sandpaper holds plenty of pigment so I am able to include lots of details.
Before I pronounce a pastel painting finished, I let it sit against a wall in my studio for a few days so I can look at it later with fresh eyes. I consider a piece done when it is as good as I can make it, when adding or subtracting something would diminish what is there. Always, I try to push myself and my materials to their limits, using them in new and unexpected ways.
Comments are welcome.
barbararachkoscoloreddust.com 