Blog Archives

Q: Why do you have so many pastels?

Barbara’s Studio

A: Our eyes can see infinitely more colors than the relative few that are made into pastels. When I layer pigments onto the sandpaper substrate, I mix new colors directly on the paper. The short answer is, I need lots of pastels so that I can make new colors.

I have been working exclusively with soft pastel for 40 years. Whenever I feel myself getting into a rut in how I select and use my colors, I look around for new materials to try.   Fortunately, new brands of soft pastels are continually coming onto the market. There are pastels that are handmade by artists – I love discovering these – and new colors manufactured by well-known pastel companies.  Some sticks of soft pastel are oily, some are buttery, some more powdery, some crumble easily, some are more durable.  Each one feels distinct in my hand.

Furthermore, they each have unique mixing properties.  It’s an under-appreciated science that I stumbled upon (or maybe I invented it, I’m not sure since I cannot know how other pastel painters work). In this respect soft pastel is very different from other paint media. Oil painters, for example, need only a few tubes of paint to make any color in the world. I don’t go in much for studying color theory as a formal discipline. If you want to really understand and learn how to use color, try soft pastel and spend 10,000+ hours (the amount of time Malcolm Gladwell says, in his book, “Outliers,” that it takes to master a skill) figuring it all out for yourself!

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: Why do you have so many pastels?

Barbara’s Studio

A: Our eyes can see infinitely more colors than the relative few that are made into pastels. When I layer pigments onto the sandpaper substrate, I mix new colors directly on the painting. This has the result of making many of my colors unrepeatable. The short answer is, I need lots of pastels so that I can mix new colors.

I have been working exclusively with soft pastel for nearly 40 years. Each pastel stick has unique mixing properties that depend on what was used as a binder to hold the dry pigment together. Some soft pastels are oily, some are buttery, some are powdery, some crumble easily, some are harder.  Each one feels slightly different when I apply it to the sandpaper.

Soft pastel is distinct among paint media. Oil painters need only a few tubes of paint to make any number of colors, but pastels are not easily combined to form new colors. I learned how to mix colors by experimenting. In the process I developed a personal and unique science of color-mixing and blending. This is one of the factors that makes my work so recognizable and sets it apart from that of other pastel painters.

Comments are welcome.

Pearls from artists* # 626

“Wise One,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 58” x 38” image, 70” x 50” framed
“Wise One,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 58” x 38” image, 70” x 50” framed

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

This is why, when writers who are just starting out ask me when it gets easier, my answer is never. It never gets easier. I don’t want to scare them, so I rarely say more than at, but the truth is that, if anything, it gets harder. The writing life is filled with predictable uncertainties, but with the awareness that we are always starting over. That everything we will ever write will be flawed. We may have written one book, or many, but all we know – if we know anything at all – is how to write the book we’re writing. All novels are failures. Perfection itself would be a failure. All we can hope is that we will fail better. That we will not fall prey to the easy enchantments of repeating what may have worked in the past. I try to remember that the job – as well as the plight, and the unexpected joy – of the artist is to embrace uncertainty, to be sharpened and honed by it. Each time we come to the end of a piece of work, we have failed as we have leapt – spectacularly, brazenly – into the unknown.

Dani Shapiro in Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 615

“Sacrificial,” Soft Pastel on Sandpaper, 70” x 50” Framed
“Sacrificial,” Soft Pastel on Sandpaper, 70” x 50” Framed

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

There are many artists and critics, including, but not only, Feminists, who have suggested that since “male” esthetic values predominated for centuries, it is impossible, and will be for a long time, to know what “women’s art” might be. I propose that the answer is at hand. The female voice was not lost, only not listened to.

Eleanor Munro in Originals: American Women Artists

Comments are welcome!

Q: You make it look effortless when we know it is not. Would you explain how you started your blog 11 years ago? (Question from Colette C. McBratney via Facebook)

An Early Blog Post, Above

A: My blog turned 11 on July 15th. To learn how to set up, publish, and maintain a blog, I took a class at the International Center of Photography in New York. It was called “The Daily Blog” and that’s where I learned how to work with WordPress.

I decided to use a question and answer format because I had a backlog of material from interviews I had done over the years. During the class, which lasted five weeks, I published blog posts every day. Once the class ended, I cut back to a more manageable schedule of publishing posts twice a week.

Writing about my work quickly became an important part of my creative process. As most people probably know, I am very persistent so these days I just make sure to keep going!

Comments are welcome!

Q: What is your best advice for new artists?

Recent pastel paintings in progress


A: I would say to remember that artists work from our hearts. Well-meaning people will give you unsolicited, contradictory, and confusing advice about what to paint, how to paint, etc. Artists must learn to ignore most of it and listen to our hearts. Continue working from a place deep inside you and you will always stay on the right track.

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 544

At work; Photo: Jennifer Cox

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

Creativity is human potential made manifest. But what is talent? The dictionary (in this case Webster’s New World Dictionary) informs us that talent is any natural ability, power, or endowment, and especially a superior, apparently natural ability in the arts or sciences or in the learning or doing of anything.

This definition is revealing on several counts. First of all, it defines talent in terms of abilities and powers. It suggests that an artist can answer the question “Am I talented?” In the affirmative if he can point to certain endowments that he possesses.

But which ones should be point to? What are the important ones in his art discipline? How many of them does he need to do good work? Do they all matter equally? Which, if any, are absolutely necessary? How much of a desired ability does he need – how great a vocal range, how long a leap, how fine a hand as a draftsman?

Eric Maisel in A Life in the Arts: Practical Guidance and Inspiration for Creative and Performing Artists

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 485

New York City

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

[Michael] Ondaatje: It’s an odd thing: I’ve heard you talk about the importance of ambiguity in film, and the need to save that ambiguous quality which exists in a book or painting, and which you think a film does not often have. And at the same time in a mix you are trying to “perfect” that ambiguity.

[Walter] Murch: I know. It’s a paradox. And one of the most fruitful paradoxes, I think, is that even when the film is finished, there should be unsolved problems. Because there’s another stage, beyond the finished film: when the audience views it. You want the audience to be co-conspirators in the creation of this work, just as much as the editor or the mixers or the cameraman or actors are. If by some chemistry you actually did remove all ambiguity in the final mix – even though it had been ambiguous up to that point – I think you would do the film a disservice. But the paradox is that you have to approach every problem as if it’s desperately important to solve it. You can’t say, I don’t want to solve this because it’s got to be ambiguous. If you do that, then there’s a sort of hemorrhaging of the organism.

O: And more of a confusion.

M: Yes. I keep thinking about it, and it’s a wonderful dilemma: you have to acknowledge that there must be unsolved problems at each stage. As hard as you work, you must have this secret, unspoken hope that one very significant problem will remain unsolved. But you never know what that will be until the film is done. You can almost define a film by the problem it poses, that it can’t answer itself, that it asks the audience to solve.

The Conversations: Walter Murch and the Art of Editing Film by Michael Ondaatje

Comments are welcome!

Q: What are your favorite subject(s) and media? (Question from “Arts Illustrated”)

Barbara’s New York Studio

A: Here’s the short answer. I work exclusively in soft pastel on sandpaper, using self-invented pastel techniques that I have been refining for thirty-five years.  Since 2017, I have depicted authentic Bolivian Carnival masks that I encountered and photographed at the Museum of Ethnography and Folklore In La Paz.

Comments are welcome!