The “Black Paintings” series of pastel-on-sandpaper paintings grew out of my “Domestic Threats” series (which evolved and reached a natrual conclusion after approximately fifteen years). The new series continues my use of Mexican folk art—masks, carved wooden animals, papier-mâché figures, and toys—as surrogates for human beings acting in highly-charged narratives. But now the figures (actors) take central stage. All background details, furniture, rugs, etc. have been eliminated and have been replaced with a dark black background.

The initial idea for “Black Paintings” emerged from my study of jazz history, especially the modification of bebop by Miles Davis into cool jazz. In bebop, the notes are played hard and fast as musicians demonstrate their technical virtuosity. Cool jazz is a much more relaxed style with far fewer notes played. The music is pared down to its essential elements, but the technical expertise is still clear. My new series parallels this. It is evolving from complex, dense compositions to an emphasis on the actors in my narratives.

Begin in 2007, this series is my most personal body of work to date. The black background symbolizes death, chaos and confusion. The actors have emerged from a deeply painful state. This state is still with them but it is somehow now also behind them. They are thriving with renewed live and newly found vibrancy, clarity and focus. My current work arises out of this deep pain. The series reflects the last seven years of my life as a 9/11 widow who had to struggle to return to making deeply-felt meaningful art after the devestating loss of my husband, Bryan.

The “Domestic Threats” series of pastel-on-sandpaper paintings uses Mexican folk art—masks, carved wooden animals, papier-mâché figures, and toys—in a lively blend of reality and fantasy. On trips to central Mexico I spend much of my time in the local mask shops, markets, and bazaars searching for the figures that will later populate my paintings. I enjoy the fact that I take objects with a unique Mexican past—most have been used in various religious festivals—and give them a second life, so to speak, in New York in the present. When I return home, I read prodigiously and find out as much about them as I can. I use these objects not only as surrogates for human actors, but as potent symbols: an amalgam of childhood memories, half-forgotten dreams, and images encountered in literature, pre-columbian art, and cinema (especially German silent films and movies by Alfred Hitchcock and Orson Welles). This work has been evolving for more than a decade. The imagery is autobiographical and very personal, but has universal associations.

All of the pastel paintings use my West Village apartment or a 72-year-old Sears house in Virginia as a backdrop. These are places where I live so the realities of my everyday surroundings are an essential part of the work. Director-style, I select and arrange a group of folk art figures in a room in my apartment. I light the scene using two or more tungsten studio lights to create dramatic, mysterious and unexplainable shadows. The setup is typically left in place for several weeks. During that time, I work out placement, lighting, design, and, most importantly, a narrative about the interaction that is occurring between the “actors.” (The narrative is often hinted at in the painting’s title).

When everything is ready, I shoot two color negatives with a 4” x 5” view camera. Using a 24” x 20” photograph for reference, I create a pastel painting of 58” x 38” in size (normally a three to four month process). I also make smaller works (which also involve several months), but prefer the greater challenge of working in large format. Blending with my fingers, I painstakingly apply dozens of layers of soft pastel onto the acid-free sandpaper. My self-invented technique achieves rich textures and vibrant colors. I believe I am pushing pastel to its limits, using it in ways that no one else has done.

About Barbara
Barbara Rachko was born in Paterson, New Jersey and grew up in a New York City suburb. She graduated from the University of Vermont with a B.A. in psychology. After college, Barbara earned a commercial pilot’s license and Boeing 727 flight engineer’s certificate, then spent seven years on active duty as a Naval officer. In 1986 while working at the Pentagon, she began to study figure drawing and medical anatomy, and began many long years of developing her craft. Barbara subsequently resigned from active duty (but remained in the Navy Reserve and retired as a Commander) to devote herself to making art. On 9/11 Barbara’s life was changed forever when her husband, Dr. Bryan C. Jack, was killed on the plane that hit the Pentagon. Dividing her time between residences in New York and Alexandria, Virginia, Barbara enjoys a busy career as a professional artist. She is represented by six galleries throughout the United States, exhibits nationally and internationally, and continues to win accolades, including a 2008-2009 Joyce Dutka Arts Foundation award, for her unique work.