Category Archives: Working methods

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.

Q: Do you ever use other people’s photographs as reference material for your paintings?

Some Reference Photos


A: For a number of reasons, I never use anyone else’s photographs as reference material. It seems wrong on many levels. Besides the fact that it is theft of intellectual property, it would mean I did not have the all-important experience of finding and making the photograph. Each reference photograph is the beginning of an idea for a future pastel painting. How each photograph even comes to exist – the travel and adventure behind it and the memories and stories that result – is an essential first step in my months- and even years-long creative process.

Comments are welcome!

Start/Finish of “Oblate,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 26” x 20”

Start

Finish

Comments are welcome!

Q: How do you decide when a pastel painting is finished?

Signing “Apparition,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 58” x 38”

A:  During the several months that I work on a pastel painting, I search for the best, most eye-popping colors, as 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 six or seven layers – but the more realistic parts take more applications because I am continually refining and adding details.  Details always take time to 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 the finished surfaces achieve a texture akin to velvet.   My technique involves blending each layer with my fingers, pushing pastel deep into the tooth of the sandpaper.  The paper holds plenty of pigment and because the pastel doesn’t flake off, there is no need for fixatives.

I consider a given painting complete when it is as good as I can make it, when adding or subtracting anything would diminish what is there.  I know my abilities and I know what each individual stick of pastel can do.  I continually try to push myself and my materials to their limits.              

Comments are welcome.

Q: Pastel dust can be toxic. Do you use air filters in your work space?

Barbara’s Studio

A:  No, but I wear a surgical mask when I work, to prevent breathing pastel dust.  Also, I use a barrier cream, called Artgard, to prevent pigment being absorbed into my skin through cuts.  I take care that my head is always higher than my hand as I work, so the dust is below my mouth and nose.  It’s difficult to tell from the photo but my easel is tilted forward, allowing pastel dust to fall onto the easel and floor. 

I am well aware of the toxicity of pastel, especially with colors that contain cadmium, and believe I take the proper precautions.  After forty years working with soft pastel, so far I’ve managed to stay healthy.

Comments are welcome.

Q: What’s on the easel today?

Work in progress!


A: I recently started a new small “Bolivianos” pastel painting.

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 664

Working
Working

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

Throughout history, geniuses have attributed their breakthroughs to the time they spent alone, deep in thought. Frank Kafka assures us,

‘You need not leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. You need not even listen, simply wait. You need not even wait, just learn to become quiet, and still, and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked. It has no choice; it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.’

Artists have a special relationship with the passing hours. Our work is tangible evidence of how we mark and give value to time. We have a finite, unknown number of hours on Earth, so we will only leave behind so many pieces. Our artistic legacy is literally tied to our ability to steal time and maintain silence.

And yet, we exist in a time and place with a tremendous aversion to peace. We must fight both ourselves and others to acquire it. No one asked us if this is the kind of environment we want to inhabit. Corporations inundate every square inch of space with uninvited visual and auditory interference, designed to light up the addiction pleasure centers in our brains. Our ancestors would have found this environment assaulting and maddening. It is certainly causing damage to our mental health, happiness, and creativity. But, it is so ubiquitous that there is pressure to simply accept the anxiety-producing ‘new normal’: we have collectively surrendered our brain space to the colonization.

Kate Kretz in Art From Your Core: A Holistic Guide to Visual Voice

Comments are welcome!

Q: What’s on the easel today?

“Showman,” almost finished!


A: I’m putting finishing touches on “Showman,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 26” x 20”.

Comments are welcome!

Q: You use so many pastels in your work. Do you have a favorite?

Barbara’s Studio

A: When people ask if I have a favorite pastel among the thousands in my studio, I am quick to answer, “Rembrandt black pastel!”  This is the single color that I use the most.  I buy them by the dozens because it takes many layers of pigment – applied and hand-blended together, one on top of the other, on sandpaper – to achieve the intense black backgrounds that distinguish my “Bolivianos” series of pastel paintings.  Typically, I use up a minimum of two or three Rembrandt pastels to create these backgrounds.  A few years ago one New York art critic cleverly dubbed them, “Barbara’s black-grounds.”  How cool is that!

Comments are welcome!

Q: All art media involve some level of toxicity. Do you use an air filter? How do you protect yourself against the harmful effects of working with soft pastel?

Working on “Magisterial”

A:  No, but I wear a surgical mask when I work, to prevent breathing the pastel dust.  Also, before I begin, I apply a barrier cream, called Artgard, to my hands to prevent pigment being absorbed into my skin through any tiny cuts I may have.

My easel is tilted forward, allowing pastel dust to fall onto the easel and floor. I take care that my head is always higher than my hand as I work, so the dust is below my mouth and nose. I am well aware of the toxicity of pastel and believe I take the proper precautions.  After nearly forty years working with soft pastel, so far I’ve managed to stay healthy.

Comments are welcome.