Category Archives: Studio

Q: Do you have a daily ritual that helps you start working in your studio?

Barbara's studio

Barbara’s studio

A:  In the morning before I start working on a pastel painting, I read for roughly half an hour.  Usually I read something art-related; for example, see the books that are quoted on Wednesdays in “Pearls from artists” on this blog.

As I’m reading, I look across at the painting on my easel and soon something becomes apparent, some annoying thing that needs immediate attention.  That’s where I will begin.  As I’m looking, of course, I’m thinking and the solution to a technical problem becomes obvious.  Before I know it, I’m up and working, slowly improving the painting as I go.    

Comments are welcome!   

Pearls from artists* # 166

Barbara's studio

Barbara’s studio

* 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 interesting discussion at Leblond’s about geniuses and outstanding men.  Dimier thinks that great passions are the source of all genius!  I think that it is imagination alone or, what amounts to the same thing, a delicacy of the senses that makes some men see where others are blind, or rather, makes them see in a different way.  I said that even great passions joined to imagination usually lead to a disordered mind.  Dufresne made a very true remark.  He said that fundamentally, what made a man outstanding was his absolutely personal way of seeing things.  He extended this to include great captains, etc. and, in fact, great minds of every kind.  Hence, no rules whatsoever for the greatest minds; rules are only for people who merely have talent, which can be acquired.  The proof is that genius cannot be transmitted.

The Journal of Eugene Delacroix edited by Hubert Wellington

Comments are welcome! 

Q: Would you say there is a unifying quality to all of the work you have produced in the last thirty years?

Barbara's portfolio book

Barbara’s portfolio book

A:  Yes, I can think of several.  Whether making pastel paintings or printing photographs in the darkroom, I have always been concerned with quality and craftsmanship and never pronounce a work finished until it is the best thing I can make. 

Although I started out as a maker of photorealist portraits in pastel, for twenty-odd years I have worked with Mexican folk art as my primary subject matter, treating these objects very differently in three separate series:  “Black Paintings,” “Domestic Threats,” and “Gods and Monsters.”  The first two are pastel-on-sandpaper paintings while the last is comprised of chromogenic photographs (c-prints).  A few years ago I also started making “Teleidoscopes” using an iPad app to photograph my Mexican and Guatemalan folk art collection.  This last one is just for fun; I do not offer them for sale.

Soft pastel is my first love and the two series of pastel paintings are my best-known work.  My technique for using pastel continues to evolve in intriguing ways.  I doubt I can ever learn all there is to know not only about color, but also about this medium.  Pastel is endlessly fascinating, which is why I have never wanted to switch to anything else. 

Comments are welcome!      

Q: What’s on the easel today?

Work in progress

Work in progress

A:  I am in the very early stages of a large pastel painting.  I have never painted any of these figures before and they originated in different parts of the world.  The bird (left) is from the Brooklyn Museum’s store, although it was hand carved in Guatemala.  The standing figure is carved wood with beautiful painted details.  It was a lucky find on a trip to Panajachel, Guatemala.  The armadillo (red and grey) was made by one of my favorite Mexican folk artists (now deceased) and I believe it’s one of the last pieces he completed.  It is a papier mâché figure that I found in a small shop in Mexico City.  The figure on the upper right is a wooden mask bought from a talkative and talented artist at a hotel in Kandy, Sri Lanka.  It depicts nagas (cobras), although you can’t tell that yet in the painting.

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 163

Barbara's studio

Barbara’s studio

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

The quality an artist must have is objectivity in judging his work, plus the honesty and courage not to kid himself about it.  Since none of my work has met my own standards, I must judge it on the basis of that one which caused me the most grief and anguish, as the mother loves the child who became the thief or murderer more than the one who became the priest.

William Faulkner in Writers at Work: The Paris Review Interviews, First Series

Comments are welcome!

 

Q: What one piece of artistic “equipment” could you not live without?

Untouched sandpaper

Untouched sandpaper

A:  Undoubtedly, I could not make my work without UART sandpaper.  Over the many months I spend creating a painting, I build layer upon layer of soft pastel.  Because this paper is so “toothy,” it accepts all of the pastel the painting needs.  

As many people know, I own and use a lot of soft pastel!  My entire technique evolved around this sandpaper, which allows me to add and blend as many as thirty layers.

Comments are welcome!           

Q: How do you store your pastel paintings?

Storage closet

Storage closet

A:  Well, I wish I could say that every pastel painting has sold as soon as it was completed, but that is a rarity that has only happened twice.  As soon as possible after I finish a painting, I bring it to the framer.  Pastel paintings are susceptible to smudging and other odd dangers (even a sneeze!) until they are under Plexiglas.  

Framed work can easily and safely be stored by hanging it on a wall in my studio or standing it upright and face up, and leaning against a wall.  When I put paintings in my storage closet for the longer term, I wrap them in bubble wrap.

The downside of having to frame everything is that it is a considerable expense.  However, the upside is that I am always ready for a solo exhibition.  Gallerists have called at the last minute when one of their exhibitions ran into unexpected problems.  Usually, I am able to step right in.     

Comments are welcome!        

Q: What’s on the easel today?

Work in progress

Work in progress

A:  This one has been a problem child.   Here is a large pastel painting called, “Charade, ” that still needs a lot of work.

Comments are welcome!

Q: How do you decide how much realism and how much imagination to put into a pastel painting?

Models, reference photograph, and pastel painting in progress

Models, reference photograph, and pastel painting in progress

A:  I wouldn’t say “decide” is the right word because creating a painting is not strictly the result of conscious decisions.  I think of my reference photograph, my preliminary sketch, and the actual folk art objects I depict as starting points.  Over the months that it takes to make a pastel painting, the resulting interpretive development pushes the painting far beyond this source material.  When all goes well, the original material disappears and characters that belong to the painting and nowhere else emerge.  

It is a mysterious process that I am still struggling to understand.  This is the best way I can describe what it feels like from the inside, as the maker.  

Comments are welcome!  

Q: If you knew that you would never sell another pastel painting, would you still make them?

Preliminary sketch and photo

Preliminary sketch and photo

A:  This is an interesting question to ponder in August when the art world is on vacation.

Certainly I would continue (reread my blog post of July 25th), but I wouldn’t bother to make them if one unrelated thing were true:  that I knew beforehand what they would look like.  Then the process just wouldn’t be very interesting.

Each pastel painting is an exploration, a journey with a point of departure.  My reference photo and preliminary sketch serve as guides, but creating a painting is like making a voyage with only the roughest of maps.  As I work, new possibilities open up that take the painting  – and me – to places that could not have been imagined.      

Comments are welcome!