Appeared in June 1994 Issue of American Artist
Written by James A. Metcalfe

"I was five years old," remembers Nick Paciorek. "It was the summer of 1967, and my family had taken me to my first major-league baseball game at Wrigley Field in Chicago. A young boy of that age should have been overwhelmed by the excitement of the game-the players, the action, the sounds, the thrill of it all; however, my fondest memory of that initial visit was walking into the park and seeing all the colors-of the field, the bleachers, the people-and all the brightness." For days afterward, Paciorek talked of little else. Although he didn't begin painting seriously until he was fourteen, he says it was that first intense experience of color that made him realize he'd one day be an artist. And given the impression it left on him, it's little surprise that he now aligns himself with a new generation of Fauvists-the term fauve, or wild beast, was the first used in the early 1900s to describe the work of Matisse and others who used brilliant color and bold paint handling to express a heightened response to nature.

When painting his hard-edged cityscapes, Rhode Island artist NICK PACIOREK uses broad strokes of brilliant color for their emotional impact.

Growing up in the Chicago area, Paciorek learned the city's public transportation system, which translated into early independence. With his family's encouragement, from the age of eleven he spent countless hours alone visiting museums and art exhibits but continually returned to his favorite, an Impressionism collection at a museum in downtown Chicago. " I was amazed that an artist could control the world-the world on canvas-by just using color, dictating what the viewer sees," Paciorek recalls. Although he greatly admired the paintings of Degas and Monet, he says Matisse was the central influence on his use of color.

Each of Paciorek's pictures is a celebration of light and color-he employs an audacious palette, broad strokes, and a vivid interpretation of his subject, resulting in a brilliantly colored canvas. For him, choosing the exact combination of hues for each painting is foremost. Admittedly, Paciorek is partial to pink, red, and orange tones; however, he quickly adds, "I choose colors that reflect my mood as I view my subject. I want the viewer to be affected by the color just as I am when I paint-to feel the same emotions. I need to be in control of the whole canvas, and I do that by simply using the colors I like. Even so, the particular color I use doesn't really matter as much as the tonality." He explains, "When I look at grass, I don't always see it as green; sometimes I see it as red because it feels red to me. By nature, we humans take immediate notice of things that appear out of whack, out of the ordinary-such as red grass and bright pink skies-and often the effect stimulates our imagination."

The only color Paciorek resists using is black. "Black frustrates me," the artist says. "It ties my hands aesthetically and muddies colors much too quickly. Perhaps more importantly, it tends to flatten out all the other hues." When he was a teaching assistant at Maryland Institute's College of Art in Baltimore, one of the first things he did was ask his students to give up their black paint. Helping them overcome their immediate fears, he was able to show them how to create darker and richer colors by mixing opposites on the color wheel to achieve warmer or cooler blacks.

The relationship of one color to another intrigues Paciorek. "It isn't necessarily the color I mix but how it relates to the color next to it, the reaction it creates," he says. " Out of context, one particular hue may mean very little, but in relationship to the finished painting, all the colors hopefully come to affect each other symbiotically. I mix colors I like and then I find places for them on the canvas. This may be an abstract idea but is nonetheless true-I use color without a preconceived plan." He generally uses from a minimum of six hues for a small painting to virtually hundreds for a larger one.

If color is the main focus of Paciorek's paintings, then light is what sets their mood. "Light changes the feelings of things," he explains. "There are instances when I can tell the exact time of day by the feeling I get when looking at the effect light has on a particular subject. The natural lighting of the day certainly changes the color and mood I want to create. That mood or feeling is not spoon-fed to the viewer-it's not like looking at a photograph. Rather, it's a kind of overture that encourages further exploration. I want my viewers to continue on an extra journey, one in which they let their imaginations loose."

Paciorek's work speaks of energy, movement-a kind of visual playground-and active brushstrokes are essential to it. Anyone who's observed his painting style knows it's exhausting to watch him constantly moving, grabbing brushes, mixing colors, trying to catch an exact moment and re-create it on the canvas. The artist himself describes his painting technique as kinetic. He insists on working quickly. "I dance when I paint, he says. "There are brushes everywhere, and I often use different palettes. When I paint, I almost feel I'm dancing both physically and emotionally. To put it simply, I can't paint sitting down; it just doesn't work."

Painting a minimum of two to three hours a day, Paciorek usually works on six or seven pictures a t a time. He tends to complete small paintings in one sitting, but he maintains a repertoire of larger works in progress- pieces 60" x 96" or larger (his ideal size is 60" x 40"). He enjoys working from slides if on-location painting isn't possible or if time doesn't allow him to finish a piece when painting en plein air. "Using slides, which I prefer to photographic prints, means no distractions from pedestrians, traffic or noise, and the frame of the slide helps me keep a sharper focus on the image," he says.

Paciorek is always searching for subjects. His eyes are forever scanning the world around him, and he often discovers subjects when he least expects to. "I may come rushing home to return to the scene immediately, brush in hand, to begin painting or at least to take a slide for later use," he says. Cities-large cities with "active skylines, active inner structures, busy streets, or uniquely memorable settings," as he described them-are Paciorek's favorite subjects. "My world is the city filled with its geometric shapes and hard edges,' he says. The relationship of one building or structure to another has always fascinated him, as has the immediacy of light hitting a building in a certain way.

Working exclusively with oils (he says acrylics just don't give him the freedom to create or "dance" when he paints), Paciorek has no set method for beginning. "Each painting is different," he says. "I may start with an object in the foreground or something unique, but, other than color it's usually the shape of an object that excites me. The most interesting shape determines where I begin, and I always keep in mind how that shape relates to the colors I might use. Working with large shapes first further determines the composition, for I believe, as did Matisse and Poussin, that if a landscape painting fails, it's because the large shapes don't relate to one another."

Consequently, he occasionally adds a structure or building if the painting seems to need one, but he usually depicts the scene as it is. He finds that a particular street may represent the entire mood of a city, and most of the time he chooses not to include any figures. "At times, figures create an appropriate balance," the artist says. " When an area isn't working, I may add a figure or two, but I generally find painting figures less spontaneous. It's harder to determine how they'll relate to the building, and more planning is required to fit them into the cityscape. Also, if you aren't careful, adding a figure or two can completely change the focus or mood of the piece."

Although cityscapes are his forte, Paciorek recently included a series of paintings of salt marshes in a show in Newport, Rhode Island. "The vastness of green and blue scared me at first," he says of the salt marshes. "There were no stopping points created by buildings, and there was a depth I had never witnessed before." He likens this experience to the sense of driving throughout the Midwest just after all the corn has been cut. To overcome his fear of rendering this new subject, he experimented with light colors and tones to achieve the effect he wanted and says he was immensely pleased with the result.

A resident of Chicago for most of his life, Paciorek eventually settled in the Providence, Rhode Island area, believing the East Coast offers artists a wealth of subject matter. "My home is minutes from Boston, a couple of hours from New York City, and has beautiful mountains, terrific beaches, and cities that are rich in tradition," he says. A fire destroyed his studio five years ago, so he now maintains one in his home, which he shares with his wife, Michele, and his dog, Emerson. Ideally, he says he'd love to have one studio in the city and one at the beach.

During the early 1980s he attended the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, and he graduated from Maryland Institute's College of Art in 1985. Paciorek has since had both group and solo shows at the Foxhall Gallery in Washington, DC, where a current exhibit of his work is on display until June 25, and in numerous other cities throughout the United States, including Chicago, Providence, Rhode Island, and Philadelphia.

James A. Metcalf, a freelance writer from West Warwick, Rhode Island, has taught English, speech, and theater for twenty-two years and is currently instructing at Johnson and Wales University in Providence, Rhode Island.