Blog Archives
Q: Why do you always work in series?
A: I don’t really have any choice in the matter. It’s more or less the way I have always worked so it feels natural for my creative output to unfold in series.
Art-making comes from a deep place. It’s a way of making one’s time on earth matter. Working in series mimics the more or less gradual way that our lives happen, the way we slowly evolve and change over the years. Life-altering, “A-Ha” moments happen, certainly, but seldom do we wake up drastically different – in thinking, in behavior, etc. – from what we were the day before.
Working in series feels authentic. It helps me eke out every lesson my pastel paintings have to teach. With each completed piece, my ideas and my creative process are able to progress a step or two further.
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Q: You started the Bolivianos series in 2017. It has been 8 years since you created The Champ. This endeavor of focussing on a series for almost a decade’s timeline shows that you embody stability as against many artists who tend to hop on to the next inspiration they find. How has discipline, stability, focus and punctuality defined your works apart from being inspired by Bolivian culture for the series Bolivianos? (Question from Vedica Art Studios and Gallery)
A: My first series, Domestic Threats, lasted fifteen years, and my second, Black Paintings, lasted ten. Stability and related qualities are likely natural parts of my personality, reinforced by my previous professional life. My prior careers as a Navy Commander, commercial pilot, and Boeing-727 Flight Engineer undoubtedly helped develop discipline, stability, focus, and punctuality. Details matter deeply to me; as a Naval Officer for twenty-one years, “attention to detail” was paramount. From my earliest days as an artist, I have been meticulous and dedicated to inventing new techniques and refining the craft of soft pastel.
I dislike wasting precious time. As a goal-oriented person, I continually strive to accomplish as much as possible. These qualities were influenced by my Navy career and further deepened by the tragic loss of my husband onboard the plane that crashed into the Pentagon on 9/11. I understand firsthand that life can change in an instant. Whenever I finish one task, I immediately look around and ask, “OK, what’s next?” I devote my studio time to pushing myself and pastel to new technical heights. There’s always more to accomplish as an artist!
Comments are welcome!
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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Pearls from artists* # 685
Another of my favorite books!
*an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
HM: The great benefit I took from visits with Renoir was realizing that even after a long working life, an artist’s curiosity could remain unquenched. The hope of some further progress, something to be added to his œuvre, was what kept Renoir alive. He was painting a “bathing” picture (now, finally, in the Musée du Louvre) and doing it with some difficulty because the picture was quite big and Renoir’s hands weren’t very nimble. But it’s only now, when I think about it, that I realize he must have found it hard; it would never occur to you when you saw him at his canvas – there was such intellectual urgency about everything he did.
Another big lesson I learned from visiting Renoir was that this man, riddled with pain and infirmity – his legs were so stiff he couldn’t walk a single step – could still be happy working and talking about his work. When you were with him for a while and he’d warmed to the conversation, you hadn’t the least sense that you were talking to an old man; his eyes were so full of life and intelligence that you forgot his age.
Henri Matisse in Chatting With Matisse: The Lost 1941 Interview, Henri Matisse with Pierre Courthion, edited by Serge Guilbault
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Q: Would you please share your current bio?
A: Here it is.
Barbara Rachko, born in 1953 in Paterson, New Jersey, is a contemporary painter based in New York City, renowned for her large pastel-on-sandpaper paintings inspired by Bolivian Carnival masks. With nearly 40 years dedicated to revolutionizing pastel as a fine art medium, Rachko’s influential blog, Barbara Rachko’s Colored Dust, has garnered over 229,000 subscribers. She is the subject of the acclaimed documentary “Barbara Rachko: True Grit,” available on YouTube, and her ebook “From Pilot to Painter” captures her inspiring journey from a former pilot to an accomplished artist.
Rachko’s work explores the vibrant cultural heritage of Bolivian Carnival masks, and Mexican and Guatemalan folk art. Her meticulous attention to detail is showcased in notable series such as Bolivianos, Black Paintings, and Domestic Threats. In 2023, she was featured in a documentary that premiered at the Newport Beach Film Festival, earning the Audience Award and Best in Category Award, further cementing her impact on contemporary art.
Her solo exhibitions include the Joy Pratt Markham Gallery at Walton Arts Center (AR), Louise Jones Brown Gallery at Duke University (NC), Olin Gallery (VA), and La MaMa La Galleria (NY). She trained in photography at the International Center of Photography in New York and studied drawing and pastel techniques at the Art League School in Alexandria, VA. Her works are held in private collections worldwide and have been showcased at prestigious art fairs, including Art Basel Miami, Moon Art Fair in Hamburg, and Art Busan in Korea, affirming her global influence in pastel painting.
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Pearls from artists* # 616
*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 may be the most important piece of advice I can give you: The Internet is nothing like a cigarette break. If anything, it’s the opposite. One of the most difficult practical challenges facing writers in this age of connectivity is the fact that the very instrument on which most of us write is also a portal to the outside world. I once heard Ron Carlson say that composing on a computer is like writing in an amusement park. Stuck for a nanosecond? Why feel it? With the single click of a key we can remove ourselves and take a ride on a log flume instead.
By the time we return to work – if, indeed, we return to our work at all – we will be further away from our deepest impulses rather than closer to them. Where were we? Oh, yes. We were stuck. We were feeling uncomfortable and lost. We have gained nothing in the way of waking-dream time. Our thoughts have not drifted, but rather, have ricocheted from one bright and shiny thing to another.
Dani Shapiro in Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life
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Pearls from artists* # 578
Hudson Yards, 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.
He [His Holiness Ngawang Tenzing Zangbo, the Sherpas’ Tengboche abbot and overseer of all Buddhist gompas in Nepal] said that he is not surprised to see Westerners flocking to Tibetan monasteries in Nepal. “In the West, there are too many distractions,” he said. “People long to come to these mountains. Here you can learn things through your heart.” He noted that Kathmandu also drew many Himalayan people because of its proximity to sacred places, but was confident that many lamas among them would return to remote areas and practice a wholesome religion free of urban temptations. He hopes that the spiritual boom will result in higher levels of religious life all around the region and not the further degradation of monastic life through materialism. He sounded as if it might be touch-and-go in some places.
Barbara Crossette in So Close to Heaven: The Vanishing Buddhist Kingdoms of the Himalayas
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Q: Why do you work in series?
“Bolivianos” paintings in progress and on the walls and floor
A: I don’t really have any choice in the matter. It’s more or less the way I have always worked so it feels natural. Art-making comes from a deep place. In keeping with the aphorism ars longa, vita brevis, it’s a way of making one’s time on earth matter. Working in series mimics the more or less gradual way that our lives unfold, the way we slowly evolve and change over the years. Life-altering events happen, surely, but seldom do we wake up drastically different – in thinking, in behavior, etc. – from what we were the day before. Working in series feels authentic. It helps me eke out every lesson my paintings have to teach. With each completed piece, my ideas progress a step or two further.
I remember going to the Metropolitan Museum to see an exhibition called, “Matisse: In Search of True Painting.” It demonstrated how Matisse worked in series, examining a subject over time and producing multiple paintings of it. Matisse is my favorite artist of any period in history. I never tire of seeing his work and this particular exhibition was very enlightening. As I studied the masterpieces on the wall, I recognized a kindred spirit and thought, “Obviously, working in series was good enough for Matisse!”
Comments are welcome!
Q: What makes you feel most alive?
A: Making art makes me feel alive, using all my gifts, my brain, my heart, and my hands to create something that never existed before and that can never be duplicated; knowing I’m the only person, ever, who could or would make this particular thing, as I strive to push my pastel techniques further each time out. Whether it’s a painting or a photograph, I enjoy making something from nothing… art that is well-crafted and has never been seen before.
Travel is the other activity that excites me. I thrive on adventure and I especially love new vistas. When I am in a country I have never visited before, with every step and around every bend there is something new to see. I am an explorer at heart!
Comments are welcome!
Pearls from artists* # 511
* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.
You do not need anyone’s permission to live a creative life.
Maybe you didn’t receive this kind of message when you were growing up. Maybe your parents were terrified of risk in any form. Maybe your parents were obsessive-compulsive rule-followers, or maybe they were too busy being melancholic depressives, or addicts, or abusers to ever use their imaginations towards creativity. Maybe they were afraid of what the neighbors would say. Maybe your parents weren’t makers in the least. Maybe they were pure consumers. Maybe you grew up in an environment where people just sat around watching tv and waiting for stuff to happen to them.
Forget about it. It doesn’t matter.
Look a little further back in your family’s history. Look at your grandparents: Odds are pretty good they were makers. No? Not yet? Keep looking back, then. Go back further still. Look at your great-grandparents. Look at your ancestors. Look at the ones who were immigrants, or slaves, or soldiers, or farmers, or sailors, or the original people who watched the ships arrive with the strangers onboard. Go back far enough and you will find people who were not consumers. People who were not passively waiting for stuff to happen to them. You will find people who spent their lives making things.
This is where you come from.
This is where we all come from.
Elizabeth Gilbert in Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear
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