Category Archives: Working methods

Q: What’s on the easel today?

Work in progress

Work in progress

“The Orator,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 38” x 58”

“The Orator,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 38” x 58”

A:  Having finally finished “The Orator” (bottom), I continue working on a small pastel painting that does not have a title yet (top).  The latter is the third piece in my “Bolivianos” series.  

Comments are welcome!

Q: When you are in your studio working on a pastel painting and pause to consider what you have done, do you ask yourself, “Is it good?”

"The Champ," soft pastel on sandpaper, 26" x 20" image, 35" x 28 1/2" framed

“The Champ,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 26″ x 20″ image, 35″ x 28 1/2″ framed

A:  Certainly, I do.  In addition, I ask myself some other important questions:  

Is it the best I can do?

Is it exciting?

Is it surprising?

Is it idiosyncratic and unique to me?

Is there anything I can do to improve it?

Does it meet (or hopefully exceed) the exacting technical and formal standards I have set for my work?  

Will I be proud to finally see my signature on it?

Comments are welcome!

Q: How do you deal with the loneliness of working in a studio?

Barbara's studio

Barbara’s studio

A:  I never feel lonely when I’m working.  I love being in my studio and even after thirty years, still find the whole process of making a pastel painting completely engaging.  

Painting is the one activity that not only uses all of my mental and physical abilities, but challenges me to push further.  I am at my best in the studio.

Because there is always more to learn and process into the work, creating art is endlessly fascinating!  Most artists probably feel the same way.  It’s one of the reasons we persist.  

Comments are welcome!           

Start/Finish of “The Champ,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 26″ x 20″

Start

Start

Finish

Finish

Comments are welcome!

Q: What’s on the easel today?

Work in progress

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!

Q: Is your work fast or is it slow?

Barbara's studio

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.

Comments are welcome!

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," 2002, the first pastel painting I completed after Bryan was killed

“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!

 

Start/Finish of “Survivors,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 20″ x 26,” 2017

 

Erased charcoal underdrawing

Erased charcoal underdrawing

Finished and signed

Finished and signed

Comments are welcome!

Q: What’s on the easel today?

Work in progress

Work in progress

A:  I am continuing work on “The Orator,” 38″ x 58,” the second pastel painting in my new “Bolivianos” series.

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 260

Suffolk County

Suffolk County

* 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 best analogy I’ve been able to find for that intense feeling of the creative moment is sailing a round-bottomed boat in strong wind.  Normally, the hull stays down in the water, with the frictional drag greatly limiting the speed of the boat.  But in high wind, every once in a while the hull lifts out of the water, and the drag goes down to zero.  It feels like a great hand has suddenly grabbed hold and flung you across the surface like a skimming stone.  It’s called planing. 

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

Comments are welcome!