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Q: How long did it take you to discover the properties of pastel? (Liliana Mileo via facebook.com/BarbaraRachko/)

A charcoal self-portrait from 1988

A charcoal self-portrait from 1988

A:  After I moved to Alexandria, Virginia in the mid-1980s, I began taking classes at The Art League School.  I was extremely unhappy with my career as a Navy Lieutenant.  I worked as a computer analyst for the Joint Chiefs of Staff at the Pentagon and was searching for something more meaningful to do with my life.

I began with a basic drawing class and liked it.  I enrolled in more classes and decided to spend two years working exclusively in black and white media, such as charcoal and graphite, before advancing to color.  Fortunately, early on I found an excellent teacher in Lisa Semerad.  I remain deeply grateful for the strong foundational drawing skills she imparted to me during this period.

After two years I tried water color and soon discovered it was not for me, a perfectionist who needs to refine my work.  Then I tried etching and found it extremely tedious, the antithesis of instant gratification.

Finally I began studying soft pastel with Diane Tesler, another gifted teacher, and fell in love with this medium!  At The Art League School I also completed a one-week workshop with Albert Handell, who introduced me to the archival sandpaper that I have been using ever since.

While I fell in love with pastel three decades ago, I continue to learn about its unique properties.  I am pushing pastel to new heights as my techniques continually evolve.  This is a lifetime journey of learning.  I hope to never know all there is to know.

Comments are welcome!  Ask anything and I may answer in a future blog post, as you’ve seen here with Liliana’s question.

 

Pearls from artists* # 369

Central Park, NYC

Central Park, NYC

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

Salieri wrote a memoir of his own, which his friend Ignacio von Mosel used as the basis for a biography, published in 1827.  Salieri’s original document disappeared, but Mosel quoted parts of it.  One anecdote is particularly winning.  Salieri is recounting the premier, in 1770, of his second opera, “Le Donne Letterate” (“The Learned Woman”).  The applause is vigorous, prompting the young composer to follow the audience out into the street, in the hope of soaking up more praise.  He overheard a group of operagoers:     

The opera is not bad,” said one.  “It pleased me right well,” said a second (that man I could have kissed).  “For a pair of beginners, it is no small thing,” said the third.  “For my part,” said the fourth, “I found it very tedious.”  At these words I struck off into another street for fear of hearing something still worse.

Any creative person who has made the mistake of surreptiously canvassing public opinion will identify with Salieri’s fatal curiosity.

Alex Ross in Salieri’s Revenge in The New Yorker, June 3, 2019

Comments are welcome!

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