Blog Archives

Q: What do you do when you are feeling undervalued and/or misunderstood as a visual artist?

On a favorite walk

On a favorite walk

A:  After more than three decades as a professional artist, I wish I could say this rarely happens, but that’s not the case.  People say dumb things to artists all the time and I’m no exception.  Often I tune it out, remembering the title of a terrific book by Hugh MacLeod called, “Ignore Everybody and 39 Other Keys to Creativity.”  Come to think of it, it’s time for a re-read of Hugh’s wise book.

But ignoring people is not always possible.  So I might take a break from the studio, go for a long walk along the Hudson River, compose photographs, think about what’s bothering me, and try to refocus and remember all the positive things that art-making has brought to my life.  I always feel better after this simple ritual.

Here’s another helpful quote that I read recently and try to remember:

‘’An artist cannot fail; it is a success to be one.” – Charles Cooley

I wonder, what do you do?

Comments are welcome!

 

Q: You had a terrific interview published in the July Issue # 44 of “Art Market.” How did that happen?

First page of Barbara’s interview in “Art Market”

First page of Barbara’s interview in “Art Market”

A: You know, my business strategy is to get my work onto as many websites as possible in hopes of eventually reaching the right collectors.  ArtsRow has not gotten me a sale yet, but wow, what press!  The print copy of “Art Market is gorgeous.”  I was stunned by the quality of the reproductions, the layout, and the fact that the publisher did not cut any of my 18-page interview!

This is how it happened.  I cannot remember if Paula Soito found me or vice versa.  Somehow we connected, I sent my work for her ArtsRow website, and shortly after, she asked to interview me for her blog.  Paula deeply connected to something in my work or my bio.  I may be mistaken, but I do not believe she asks many artists for an interview. 

As I do with every interview request, I enthusiastically said, “Yes!”  Paula proceeded to ask great questions.  I prepared my written answers to her questions as though I were writing an article for “The New York Times,” because once an interview is published, you never know who will read it.  And we had no word limits since the interview was being published on her blog, not in print.

So last spring my in-depth interview was published on Paula’s blog.  Sometime later she let me know that she had met Dafna Navarro, CEO and Founder of “Art Market,” and was arranging for our interview to be published there.  I thought, “Gee, that’s nice,” thinking there’s no way they will publish the whole article.  When I received my print copy in the mail I was thrilled!  Not only did my interview look great, but it was sandwiched between a piece about an exhibition at The Metropolitan Museum and one at The Whitney Museum of American Art!  So, of course, I am sharing it with everyone and encouraging people to purchase a print copy.

You can read the full exclusive interview here on my website:  
 
Comments are welcome!

Q: Do you enjoy being interviewed?

In the studio

In the studio

A:  I do very much.  Each new interview is another opportunity to discover what is remembered, what is kept because it still seems important, and how certain details are selected from amongst all the accumulated memories of a lifetime.  My own story is continually evolving as some facts are left out or rearranged, and others added.  New connections keep being made while some others are discarded.  I find it fascinating to read over old interviews and compare them with what I remember in the present.

Comments are welcome!

Q: As you reflect on your overall art career beginning with your art education, what major event stands out as an important sign that you were headed in the right direction?

"His Mortal Enemy Was Poised Ready to Strike," soft pastel on sandpaper

“His Mortal Enemy Was Poised Ready to Strike,” soft pastel on sandpaper

A:  In 1989 I left a career in the Navy to pursue life as a full-time professional artist.  In July 1996 Bryan and I were traveling in Mexico.  Something told me to check the phone messages at our Virginia house so I did.  

There was a message from Mia Kim, the director of Brewster Arts Ltd. on West 57th Street in Manhattan, requesting a dozen large pastel paintings for a two-person exhibition in October, just three months away!

At the time I was still living in Alexandria, Virginia so exhibiting in Manhattan – let alone securing prestigious gallery representation – seemed a far-off dream.   Yes, I had sent Mia slides, but she had not seen my work in person.   She first saw my “Domestic Threats” pastel paintings when I delivered them to the gallery for exhibition.  The show was called “Monkey Business.”

Brewster Arts was an elegant New York gallery that specialized in Latin American Art.  There was just one other non-Latina artist that Mia represented, Leonora Carrington, whom I met that October at my opening.   I remember Mia introducing me and declaring to the entire crowd, “Barbara has the SOUL of a Latina.”  I’ve always loved that.  It was the first time I realized I was really on my way!

Brewster Arts Ltd. continued to represent my work until the gallery closed some years later.

Comments are welcome!

Q: Where did you grow up and what were some early milestones or experiences that contributed to you becoming an artist later in life?

“The Sleeping Gypsy,” Henri Rousseau, oil on canvas, 1897

“The Sleeping Gypsy,” Henri Rousseau, oil on canvas, 1897

A:  I grew up in a blue collar family in Clifton, New Jersey, a suburb about fifteen miles west of Manhattan. My father was a television repairman for RCA. My mother stayed home to raise my sister and me (at the time I had only one sister, Denise; my sister Michele was born much later).  My parents were both first-generation Americans and no one in my extended family had gone to college yet. I was a smart kid who showed some artistic talent in kindergarten and earlier.  I remember copying the Sunday comics, which in those days appeared in all the newspapers, and drawing small still lifes I arranged for myself. I have always been able to draw anything, as long as I can see it. 

Denise, a cousin, and I enrolled in Saturday morning “art classes” at the studio of a painter named Frances Hulmes in Rutherford, NJ.  I was about 6 years old. I continued the classes for 8 years and became a fairly adept oil painter. Since we lived so close to New York City, my mother often took us to museums, particularly to the Museum of Modern Art, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the Museum of Natural History.  Like so many young girls, I fell in love with Rousseau’s “The Sleeping Gypsy” and was astonished by Picasso’s “Guernica” when it was on long-term loan to MoMA. I have fond memories of studying the dioramas at the Museum of Natural History (they are still my favorite part of the museum). As far as I know, there were no artists in my family so, unfortunately, I had no role models.  At the age of 14 my father decided that art was not a serious pursuit – declaring, it is “a hobby, not a profession” – and abruptly stopped paying for my Saturday morning lessons. With no financial or moral support to pursue art, I turned my attention to other interests, letting my artistic abilities go dormant.

Comments are welcome!

 

Q: Do you have any ”dont’s” for artists that you swear by?

On my studio wall

On my studio wall

A:  I don’t remember where I found this list, but most artists probably need to be reminded once in awhile.  I certainly do!

Comments are welcome!

Q: How much of your work is autobiographical?

"The Champ," soft pastel on sandpaper, 26" x 20"

“The Champ,” soft pastel on sandpaper, 26″ x 20″

A:  I suppose all of it is, in the sense that often I can look at a particular pastel painting and remember what was happening in my life when I made it.  As I get older, however, it’s becoming more difficult to remember the circumstances surrounding my earliest work.  Certainly, the cultures of an ever-expanding number of countries – Bolivia last year – are influencing my imagery for the better.

Comments are welcome!  

Q: What has been your scariest experience as an artist?

"Between," soft pastel on sandpaper, 20" x 26"

“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.”


Co
mments are welcome! 

Q: Can you describe a single habit that you believe contributes to your professional success?

Barbara's studio with work in progress

Barbara’s studio with work in progress

A:  It’s probably the fact that I keep regular studio hours.  Contrary to the cliche of artists working in spurts, I continually work in the studio at least seven hours a day, five days a week, with Wednesdays and Sundays as my days off.  I devote another two hours or so in the mornings and evenings for art business tasks:  email, sending out jpegs, social media, etc.  I always remember something Katharine Hepburn said:  “Without discipline there is no life.”

Comments are welcome!

Pearls from artists* # 200

Barbara's studio

Barbara’s studio

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

Why Art?

Because you will never have to change batteries or remember passwords or read directions or fear obsolescence.

Questroyal Fine Art, LLC, ad in The New Yorker, issue of April 11, 2016

Comments are welcome!