Barbara Schaefer
Painting
Photography
Video
Artist Statement
My work across multiple art forms—dance, choreography, writing, and music—has informed and enriched my primary practice as a visual artist. This cross-disciplinary experience has sharpened my awareness of principles essential to all art-making: presence, patience, and the willingness to show up for the work.
Until 2007, my painting was primarily abstract. After a twelve-year hiatus from intaglio printmaking to contemporary dance, I returned to visual art by working on large surfaces in a physical, improvisational manner reminiscent of American Abstract Expressionism. While living in Rome, my work became increasingly formal and minimal, though always rooted in abstraction.
In the early 2000s, as digital technology entered daily life, imagery from a dialogue with an unknown correspondent found its way into my paintings. Over time, my focus shifted to photography and “painting with light.”
In photography I work at night, in darkness, where absence—of light, of noise—becomes palpable. The work is not constructed but allowed to emerge moment by moment. When working with others, I invite natural movement within the space; when working alone, I respond to the space as if it were a living presence. In both cases, intuition is heightened and outcomes remain unknown.
Across photography, painting, and video, I am drawn to what is hidden, invisible, or overlooked— what is not said. My process is non-linear, dreamlike, and layered, much like memory itself. I often describe it as archaeological: building up and scraping away layers to reveal what lies beneath or seeks to emerge.
In recent years, I have moved toward figurative painting with a narrative impulse. While abstraction came easily, the figure demands precision and planning, challenging my preference for immediacy. As Rilke reminds us, we must trust what is difficult.
Living in Rome from 1983 to 1995 profoundly shaped my sensibility. The city’s beauty, patina, and accumulated history continue to inform my work, reinforcing my enduring inquiry: what emerges from the unknown, and how do we learn to trust it?