Anne and Walter Pasko


Walter J. Pasko has devoted his creative energy, for the past forty years, to the painting of landscapes directly from nature.  His broad oil painting style has evolved from a need to capture the fleeting play of light and shadow patterns on the landscape, essential to the design of his paintings.
He has been living for most of his adult life in the Berkshire Hills of northwestern Massachusetts where he regularly scouts the back country looking for saw mills, sugar houses, streams, and small villages as subject matter for his paintings.
Primarily self-taught, he studied and painted with the late Maurice Kennedy, friend and former student of Lester Stevens (N.A.).  He has a Ph.D. of M.E. degree from the University of Massachusetts.
He belongs to :
The Rockport Art Association, Rockport, MA;
The North Shore Art Association, Gloucester, MA;
The Academic Artists Association, Springfield, MA;  and
The Southern Vermont Arts Center, Manchester, VT.


Anne Pasko

My work crosses a broad range from serene to wild – from monochromatic paper collage to vivid and highly textured mixed media paintings with found objects and acrylics. My pieces may encompass the symbolism of women’s spirituality, or my love of the earth and our natural environment, or the lyric and magic of a place like Monhegan Island, Maine.
I enjoy working and experimenting with textures and new techniques. It is the uncertainty and search for new techniques and exciting combinations of color that keeps me burning with passion to “do art”. I am frequently asked how I come up with some of the images and pairings of materials – the answer is always that these are not from a clear, conscious place but rather something that bubbles up out of the subconscious – a remembering of an ancient symbol, or an image seen or felt in a dream.
More recently I have begun working with watercolors because I love the flow of colors one into the other. My goal is not to recreate a scene or an apple, but rather to capture the mood or feeling of a time and/or place.
I’ve come to realize that when the Muse stings me, I am powerless to concentrate on anything else until I have exhausted whatever theme she is tickling me with. It might be a color combination, a song lyric or the title of a book, or something less specific, a feeling that just has to be explored with different kinds of materials. I am grateful for every one of her little, and sometimes not so gentle, stings.
My art often expresses that which I am unable to verbalize.