Blog Archives
Q: You take 3-4 months to complete one artwork. How do you plan a series such as Bolivianos over a year’s timeline and over the years? (Question from Vedica Art Studios and Gallery)
A: Bolivianos is my third series, and like the previous two, it naturally evolves from one painting to the next. There wasn’t a long-term plan involved, and I doubt such detailed planning would even be practical. Many artists likely work this way—finishing one project and then beginning another. As with Bolivianos, I typically have ideas for the next two or three paintings, but little concept beyond that.
The main impetus for Bolivianos was to continue work I began in the early 1990s. During a visit to La Paz, I captured a series of stunning photographs, inspiring me to translate them into a major pastel series. Each painting leads to ideas about the next, guiding the entire series’ evolution and shaping my understanding of its meaning. Both the series and my insights deepen as I engage further with the subject matter. The Bolivian Carnival masks I photographed provided the starting point for a long and continuing intellectual journey.
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Q: Over your 40-year career as an artist, you have managed to keep presentation, technical, subject matter, conceptual consistencies in your art practice and work. How do you manage to filter out inspirations that might be luring at that moment but do not support your art practice? For example, you master pastel works. There must have been moments when you might have been inspired to make oil works. How do you keep such inspirations aside. (Question from Vedica Art Studios and Gallery)
A: About thirty-five years ago, when my pastel paintings were becoming larger—around 60” x 40”—I had to choose between transitioning to oil on canvas or continuing with pastel. Framing was the main concern. I wasn’t certain large pastels could be framed, and even if they could, the cost might be prohibitive. However, I had already fallen in love with pastel and knew no other medium could offer such vibrant colors or velvety textures. Determined, I resolved the framing issue (art-making is fundamentally problem-solving), committed myself fully to soft pastel, and have continued inventing and refining techniques ever since.
My goal from the beginning has always been improvement as an artist. If an activity doesn’t contribute to my growth—as a person or as an artist—I typically don’t pursue it. Time and energy are finite resources, so I try to use them wisely.
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Q: Did you formally study art? (Question from “Cultured Focus Magazine”)
A: My bachelor’s degree in Psychology is from the University of Vermont. I did not formally study art, unless you want to count the several years-worth of drawing and painting classes I took at the Art League School in Alexandria, VA. I never went to art school so do not have a bachelor’s or master’s degree in art.
Much later, in the early 2000s, I was compelled to study photography at the International Center of Photography in New York. This is a rather long story.
On September 11, 2001, my husband Bryan Jack, a high-ranking federal government employee, a brilliant economist and a budget analyst at the Pentagon, was on his way to present his monthly guest lecture in economics at the Naval Postgraduate College in Monterey, CA. He was a passenger on the plane that departed from Dulles Airport and was high-jacked and crashed into the Pentagon.
Losing Bryan on 9/11 was the biggest shock of my life, devastating in every way imaginable. We were soulmates and newly married. I have lived with his loss every single day for more than twenty years now. Life has never been the same.
In the summer of 2002 I was beginning to feel ready to get back to work. Learning about photography and cameras became essential avenues to my well-being.
My first challenge was learning how to use Bryan’s 4 x 5 view camera. Bryan had always taken the 4 x 5 negatives from which I derived the reference photos that were essential tools for making pastel paintings. I enrolled in a one-week view camera workshop at the International Center of Photography in New York. Surprisingly, it was very easy. I had derived substantial technical knowledge just from watching Bryan for many years.
After the view camera workshop, I decided to throw myself into learning this new medium, beginning with Photography I. I spent the next few years taking many classes at ICP and learning as much as I could. Eventually, I learned how to use Bryan’s extensive collection of film cameras, to properly light the setups that served as subject material for my “Domestic Threats” pastel paintings, and to make my own large chromogenic prints in a darkroom.
Then in October 2009 I was invited to present a solo photography exhibition at a gallery in New York. Continuing to make art after Bryan’s death had seemed like such an impossibility. I remember thinking how proud he would have been to know I became a good photographer.
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Q: What’s on the easel today?
Work in progress
A: I am planning my next pastel painting and the photo above shows a preliminary charcoal sketch for it. I’m continuing to study the effects of scaling my work up or down. This piece will be a smaller, 26” x 20,” version of “The Orator,” 38” x 58” (image), 50” x 70” (framed), from 2017.
Comments are welcome!
Q: What’s on the easel today?
A: I’m continuing to work on a large (58” x 38”) pastel painting. I haven’t decided on an exact title yet, but it will be either “Impresario” or “Lost Cause.” The latter is the name of a new Billie Eilish song.
Comments are welcome!
Q: What inspires you to start your next painting? (Question from Nancy Nikkal)
A: For my current series, “Bolivianos,” I am using as source/reference material c-prints composed at a La Paz museum in 2017. I began the series by picking my favorite from this group of photos (“The Champ” and later, “Avenger”) before continuing with others selected for prosaic reasons such as I like some aspect of the photo, to push my technical skills by figuring out how to render some item in pastel, to challenge myself to make a pastel painting that is more exciting than the photo, etc. I like to think I have mostly succeeded.
At this time I am running low on images and have not yet imagined what comes next. Do I travel to La Paz again in 2021 to capture new photos? This series was a surprise gift so I am reluctant to deliberately chase after it knowing that ‘lightning never strikes twice.’ Will travel even be possible this year with Covid-19? These are questions I am wrestling with now.
Comments are welcome!
Q: What’s on the easel today?
Work in progress
A: I’m continuing to work on a 58” x 38” pastel painting. The title is not definite yet, although I do have two that I am considering.
Comments are welcome!
Q: What has been your scariest experience as an artist?
“Between,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 20″ x 26″
A: It was the approximately six months in 2007 when I finished the “Domestic Threats” series and was blocked, certain that a strong body of work was behind me, yet not knowing what in the world to do next! For a professional artist who had been working non-stop for 21 years, this was a profoundly painful, confusing, and disorienting time. I remember continuing to force myself to go to the studio and for lack of anything much to do there, spending long hours reading and thinking about art.
Eventually after all of this reflection, I had an epiphany. “Between,” with drastically simplified imagery, was the first in a new series called, “Black Paintings.” I like to think this series includes work that is considerably richer and more profound than the previous “Domestic Threats.”
Comments are welcome!
Q: What’s on the easel today?
Work in progress
A: I am continuing work on a large (58″ x 38″) pastel painting tentatively titled, “Blocked.”
Comments are welcome!
Q: How many studios have you had since you’ve been a professional artist?
Barbara’s studio
A: I am on my third, and probably last, studio. I say ‘probably’ because I love my space and have no desire to move. Plus, it would be a tremendous amount of work to relocate, considering that I have been in my West 29th Street studio since 1997.
My very first studio, in the late 1980s, was the spare bedroom of my house in Alexandria, Virginia. I set up a studio there while I was on active duty in the Navy. When I resigned my commission, I was required to give the President an entire year’s advance notice. Towards the end of that year I remember calling in sick so I could stay home and make art.
In the early 1990s I rented a studio on the third floor of the Torpedo Factory in Alexandria. For a while I enjoyed working there, but the constant interruptions – in an art center that is open to the public – became tiresome.
In 1997 I had the opportunity to move to New York. I desperately craved solitary hours to work in peace, without interruption, so at first I didn’t have a telephone. I still don’t have WiFi there because my studio is reserved strictly for creative work.
Moving from Virginia to New York in 1997 was relatively easy. My aunt, who planned to be in California to continue her Buddhist studies, offered me her rent-controlled sixth-floor walkup on West 13th Street. I looked at just one other studio before signing a sublease for my space at 208 West 29th Street. I had heard about the vacancy through a college friend of my husband, Bryan. Karen, the lease-holder, was relocating to northern California to work on “Star Wars” with George Lucas. After several years, she decided not to return to New York and I have been the lease-holder ever since.
Comments are welcome!
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