My Passion for Pastel

Over the years, I’ve dabbled in all sorts of media: pencil, charcoal, silverpoint, watercolor, gouache, oil, etching, monotype, serigraph, acrylic… you name it, I’ve tried it. When I began to take plein air painting seriously, I started working in oils almost exclusively. It takes a lot of effort to become even slightly adept at painting outdoors.  It made sense to focus on one medium and get comfortable using it.

Jennifer L. Hoffman, Lyric, pastel on

paper, c. 2005.

Despite that conviction, after looking at some Degas pastel sketches at the Denver Art Museum, I’d bought a box of 30 pastel half-sticks on sale at an art supply store.  I didn’t have a specific plan for using them, but after they sat on the shelf in my studio for a while, they began to catch my eye.  I felt an increasing itch to try them out.  Just for fun. Though it’s been over 10 years, the day I finally gave into that urge is surprisingly clear in my mind.  It was spring, and I went outside to cut serviceberry blossoms and mountain bluebells.  I put a few sprigs into a small green jar, set them on a white tablecloth, and pulled the untouched box of pastels off the shelf.  Not having an ideal place to set up for pastels, I pulled out a piece of gray Canson paper and a drawing board, sat cross-legged on the floor, and started working.  I recall being instantly engrossed in the process.  Time simultaneously stood still and passed in the blink of an eye.  It was a bit like falling in love.  I knew from the moment I finished that still life that I would never stop using pastels.

Since I was a child, I have loved to draw. Most exciting for me, when I first dragged a pastel across that sheet of paper, were the similarities to both drawing and painting.  My hand was in contact with the surface of the paper.  The pastel stick responded to even the slightest pressure changes.  I could make lines and gestural marks.  There was no drying time – no waiting to apply the next layer.  But I could also quickly cover large swaths of paper with masses of color.  The color was opaque.  I could layer colors to create new ones, create texture, build impasto.  I could blend or not blend.

Details of color layering and blending with pastels.

Jen using pastels in the field.

Color mixing in pastel is a magnificent thing.  Unlike liquid paints, pastel colors can’t be mixed to order on a palette.  I have to create the right colors on the painting.  Most pastelists have huge pastel palettes with every color and value you can imagine.  But even then, the perfect color can elude us.  Pastelists get to employ something wonderful called visual color mixing, which involves putting down layers of color without blending them so the colors vibrate and react with each other on the surface.  For example, from a distance, a field of grass may appear to be a warm green, but when you get up close to the painting, you will see a variety of oranges, greens, maybe even yellows and violets all applied together to the surface.  The effect creates something that mimics the textures of nature and the vibration of light that we experience when we’re out in nature.   

And because there is no time-consuming color mixing involved, I love to use pastels in the field.  As a plein air enthusiast, I often am painting in quickly changing conditions.  Being able to figure out my composition and get straight to work allows me to react more immediately to the experience.  It also allows me to grab a thought, a feeling, a fleeting moment of light in just a few minutes – to record it on paper and in my mind so that I can access it later.  Pastels are the perfect medium for me to record a visual memory. 

Jennifer L. Hoffman, Thermal Spectrum, pastel on mounted

paper, 11x14 in., 2016.

Mary Cassatt (1844 –1926), The Pink Sash 

(Ellen Mary Cassatt), c. 1898, Pastel on paper, 24 x 19 ¾ in

Some of my favorite artists, both historical and contemporary, have also had love affairs with pastels.  William Merritt Chase, Childe Hassam, Dwight Tryon, James Abbott McNeill Whistler, John Twachtman, Edgar Degas, and of course Mary Cassatt were all avid pastelists.  One of my favorite examples of the power and subtlety of the medium resides right here in Wyoming, at the National Museum of Wildlife Art.  Titled King of the Forest by Rosa Bonheur, it is 5 feet high and nearly 4 feet across, a stunning pastel on linen. 

Jennifer L. Hoffman, Gradient, pastel on mounted paper,

10x6 in., 2016.

Today, artists like Wolf Kahn, Ellen Eagle, Mario Robinson, Denise LaRue Mahlke, Skip Whitcomb, Bill Cone, and Casey Klahn (among many others) all use this medium to create diverse, expressive, meditative works that inspire me to keep pushing and experimenting.

But most of all, pastel has helped me access something deeper and more personal.  By using the most ephemeral of media - sticks of colorful dust - to create a lasting image, I make a fragile, enduring mark.  In that way, pastel is a bit like magic, a bit like music, a bit like poetry, and a lot like us.


 

 Behind the Brushes 

"My Passion for Pastel"

Jennifer Hoffman

Trio Fine Art

www.triofineart.com