Blog Archives
Q: What’s on the easel today?
“Stalemate” in progress, soft pastel on sandpaper
A: A large pastel painting with the working title, “Stalemate.” For this one I went back and looked at some of my older 35 mm negatives. I selected one from 2002 and made the photographic print you see above, clipped to the left side of my easel. This piece is unusual because I’m painting the figures much larger than life size. I like what’s happening, but it’s slow going.
The title, “Stalemate,” is one I thought of some twenty-odd years ago, when I worked on a very different pastel painting – a table top still life – by that name. Somehow I couldn’t resolve some problems in the composition so I never finished it. I haven’t seen it in years, but it’s probably sitting in my Alexandria basement someplace.
Comments are welcome!
Q: When you set up your figures to photograph, do you create a story?
“He Just Stood There Grinning,” soft pastel on sandpaper, ” 58″ x 38″
A: I always did so with my “Domestic Threats” paintings, but not with my current work. As I set up a group of figures to photograph, I would make up a story about what was happening between them: what the Day of the Dead skeleton I bought in Mexico City was saying to the frog/fish/human mask from Guerrero, for example. I was a big kid playing with my favorite toys! The stories were the spark to get me started on a new project, but I usually forgot about them afterwards. They were necessary, yet incidental to my creative process, which is probably why I have never written them down.
Years ago I had the experience of being at one of my solo shows when a group of elementary school children came along with their teacher. The teacher asked them to act out one of the stories in a particular painting. Ever curious about how people relate to my work, I didn’t introduce myself as the creator of the pieces hanging on the walls. I no longer remember the details, but their interpretations soon had me laughing. It is a constant surprise to hear from people encountering my work for the first time what they see in it, especially when those people are young kids with wild imaginations!
Comments are welcome!
Q: Do you name your characters?
Lola in “He Urged Her to Abdicate,” soft pastel on sandpaper
A: No, normally I don’t, but there is one notable exception. Lola – I could hardly call her any other name – is a red-dressed, cigarette-smoking, black-stocking cloth doll made by an artist in Mexico City. I never met her creator, but years ago a man came into my Alexandria, Virginia studio (where I had a studio at the Torpedo Factory, an art center that is open to the public), and announced that he knew Lola’s maker and he, the maker, would be extremely pleased with what I’d done with her – made her the star of several of my pastel-on-sandpaper paintings. Many years later Lola continues to be one of my favorite characters and “He Urged Her to Abdicate,” set in the bathroom of a six floor walk-up I rented when I first moved to New York, is my favorite Lola painting.
To learn more about this painting, please read the essay by Britta Konau on page 10 at:
Click to access DomesticThreats.pdf
Comments are welcome!
Q: When did you begin seriously studying photography?
Exhibition catalogue, 2009 solo exhibition at HP Garcia Gallery, NYC; click
“Exhibition catalogue” under Blogroll to view inside pages
A: After I lost my husband, Bryan, on 9/11 – as I’ve discussed elsewhere, Bryan photographed most of the setups for my “Domestic Threats” series – I needed to find a way to continue making art. In June 2002 I began studying photography at the International Center of Photography (ICP) in New York. I took a one week 4 x 5 view camera workshop because Bryan had photographed the setups with a Toyo-Omega view camera. I was surprised to discover that I had absorbed quite a bit of technical information just by watching him. Once I completed the workshop, I decided to start over and to learn as much as I could about photography. So I enrolled in Photography I. Over the next several years I completed about a dozen courses at ICP, eventually learning to make my own large-scale chromogenic prints. Around 2007 I began working seriously as a photographer, creating my photographic series, “Gods and Monsters,” with Bryan’s Mamiya 6 camera. In October 2009 HP Garcia Gallery in New York gave me my first solo photography exhibition (see “Exhibition catalogue” under Blogroll).
I’m busy getting ready for my next solo show there in October. This exhibition will be fairly comprehensive and will include recent photographs (diptychs and single images), new work from the “Black Paintings” series, and a selection of Mexican and Guatemalan figures. There will be an exhibition catalogue and later in the fall, the gallery will publish the first book about my work. I am particularly thrilled about the book, a new, but long overdue, career milestone!
Q: Do the figures go on to play different roles in different paintings or are their characters recurring?
“His Mortal Enemy Was Poised Ready to Strike,” soft pastel on sandpaper
A: The dolls and other objects play different roles in each painting and I paint them differently to reflect this. If you take one figure and follow it through the series, you’ll notice that it evolves quite a bit. I continue to think of each figure as an actor in a repertory company.
Q: There is a voyeuristic quality to your paintings in the “Domestic Threats” series. Perhaps it is because we are seeing objects most would consider inanimate acting out these complex scenes you’ve created for them. Where do the stories come from?
“He Didn’t Take Seriously the Threat From Below,” soft pastel on sandpaper
A: When I set up the figures to photograph, I make up stories about what is happening. Being an artist has lots of negatives, but one of the fun parts is that sometimes we get to act like big kids. Some of the stories come from movies, mythology, folk tales, or dreams. I read a lot and I love stories. I try to be open to all sorts of influences because you never know what will work its way in to enrich your art.
Q: In your earlier “Domestic Threats” series, you liken your paintings to scenes in a movie. Is there an audition process? What qualities must a figure possess to be cast in one of your paintings?
Negotiating with Tomas in Panajachel, Guatemala; photo by Donna Tang
A: There’s not an audition process, but I do feel like the masks and figures call out to me when I’m searching the markets of Mexico and Guatemala. Color is very important – the brighter and the more eye-catching the better – plus they must have lots of “personality.” I try not to buy anything mass-produced or obviously made for tourists. How and where these objects come into my life is an important part of the process. Getting them back to the U.S. is always an adventure. For example, in 2010 I was in Panajachel on the shores of Lake Atitlan in Guatemala. After returning from a boat ride across the lake, my friends and I were walking back to our hotel when we noticed a mask store. This store contained many beautiful things so I spent a long time looking around. Finally, I made my selections and was ready to buy five standing wooden figures, when I learned that Tomas, the store owner, did not accept credit cards. Not having enough cash, I was heart-broken and thought, “Oh, no. I can’t bring these home.” However, thanks to my friend, Donna, whose Spanish was much more fluent than mine, Tomas and she came up with a plan. I would pay for the figures at a nearby hotel and once the owner was paid by the credit card company, he would pay Tomas. Fabulous! Tomas, Donna, and I walked to the hotel, where the transaction was completed. Packing materials are not so easy to find in remote parts of Guatemala so the packing and shipping arrangements took another hour. During the negotiations Tomas and I became friends. We exchanged telephone numbers (he didn’t have a telephone so he gave me the phone number of the post office next door, saying that when I called, he could easily run next door). When I returned to New York ten days later, the package was waiting for me.
While setting up a scene for a painting, I work very intuitively so how the objects are actually “cast” is difficult to say. Looks count a lot – I select an object and put it in a particular place, move it around, and develop a storyline. I spend time arranging lights and looking for interesting cast shadows. I shoot two exposures with a 4 x 5 view camera and order a 20″ x 24″ photograph to use for reference. I also work from the “live” objects. My series, “Domestic Threats,” was initially set in my Virginia house, but in 1997, I moved to a six floor walk-up in New York. For the next few years the paintings were set there, until 2001 when I moved to my current apartment. In a sense the series is a visual autobiography that hints at what my domestic surroundings were like.
Q: How large is your collection of Mexican folk art objects?
Part of the collection
A: I haven’t counted them, but my guess is 200 pieces of various sizes. This includes the Guatemalan figures. I went to Guatemala in 2009 and 2010. Since I divide my time between a house in Alexandria, VA, an apartment in Manhattan, and a studio in Chelsea, part of my folk art collection is in each of these places.
Q: Are there any other memorable quotes from collectors that you’d like to share?
“He Urged Her to Abdicate,” at John and Lynn’s house; photo by John
A: Here’s one from my good friend John, who with his wife Lynn, owns four pastel paintings. I believe they discovered my paintings in 2000 at a gallery in Marin County (CA). John is talking about work from a previous series called, “Domestic Threats.”
The first time that I saw Barbara’s work in a gallery window I was instantly drawn to it… the intensity of color… examining the figures… my love of folk art… the furniture and other objects. Somewhere in the middle of all this the skewed perspective hit me. I was hooked.
What would visual artists do without appreciative collectors!
Q: What makes you just want to run back to the studio and start something new?
Untitled chromogenic print, 24″ x24″, edition of 5
A: I work in series, which means that one pastel painting generally leads into the next. Considerable thought goes into it before I ever begin, so it would be rare for me to just start something new out of nowhere. Sometimes after a day in the studio I run home to my apartment to set up a new photograph. I arrange a group of my Mexican and Guatemalan figures on a black cloth, light the scene, and when everything is just right, photograph it. I love the fact that I can come home, shoot a roll of film, and then have 24 new images – more bad than good, but still – the next day! It’s such a departure from the slowness of my work in the studio, considering that in a good year I make 6 pastel paintings.
barbararachkoscoloreddust.com 