Pitt Pastels and the Myth of “Buttery” Being Better

TOOLS & PREFERENCES

There is a persistent idea in the art world that softness equals quality.

That the more buttery a pastel feels, the more professional it must be. That resistance is something to overcome rather than something to work with. I understand where this comes from. Soft materials feel generous. They respond quickly. They reward movement with immediate colour and blend almost automatically. For many people, that feels reassuring.

It is not how I prefer to work.

Faber-Castell Pitt Pastel pencils sit in an interesting place. They are not the hardest pencils I use, and they are certainly not the softest. They have a slightly gritty texture that people often describe as a drawback. I see it as one of their strongest qualities.

That grit creates friction, and friction creates control.

When a pencil has a bit of resistance, it slows your hand down just enough to keep decisions deliberate. You cannot rely on the material to smooth things out for you. You have to place marks where they belong. Pressure matters. Direction matters. And perhaps most importantly, stopping matters.

This is especially relevant in animal portraiture.

Fur is where many drawings are overworked into lifelessness. Soft materials make it very easy to keep adding and blending long past the point where structure has already been lost. Pitt Pastels resist that tendency. They do not flood the surface with pigment instantly. They ask you to build gradually, which keeps the underlying anatomy readable for longer.

That slight resistance helps with fine fur detail.

Because the pencil does not collapse into a broad smear immediately, you can maintain separation between strokes. Individual hairs remain intentional rather than dissolving into texture noise. This makes it easier to suggest fur rather than describe every strand. The drawing stays clear, even as complexity increases.

Another reason Pitt Pastels earn their place in my process is lightfastness.

This is less glamorous to talk about, but far more important than many people realise. When you create commissioned work, you are making something that will live in someone else’s home for years. Possibly decades. Choosing materials that will not fade or shift over time is not an aesthetic preference. It is an ethical one.

Pitt Pastels are highly lightfast. That reliability matters to me. It means the decisions I make today will still be visible long after the drawing has left my studio. Clients are trusting me with the likeness of a beloved animal. The least I can do is ensure the materials I use respect that trust.

Softness does not guarantee longevity.

In fact, some of the most buttery materials sacrifice stability for immediacy. They feel wonderful in the moment and disappoint quietly over time. Pitt Pastels do the opposite. They may not feel luxurious at first touch, but they age well. They hold.

There is also something psychologically useful about a pencil that does not try to please you.

Pitt Pastels do not flatter poor decisions. They do not rescue rushed marks. They make you see what you are doing clearly, because they do not blur intention away. That clarity can feel uncomfortable if you are used to very forgiving materials. It can also be deeply instructive.

Resistance improves seeing.

When a material pushes back slightly, you spend more time looking before acting. You evaluate whether a stroke is necessary. You consider how it will interact with what is already there. You become more selective, not because you are trying to be disciplined, but because the material demands it naturally.

I use Pitt Pastels when I want precision without brittleness. When I need a pencil that holds together better than CarbOthello but feels less severe than Cretacolor. They are particularly useful in stages where structure is established but refinement needs to remain controlled.

They are not indulgent tools. They are honest ones.

The teaching takeaway here is simple, but it runs counter to a lot of marketing language: resistance in a material is not a problem to solve. It is a feature to learn from. Tools that do not instantly comply teach you how to see more clearly, decide more carefully, and stop sooner.

Softness has its place. I use it later, when the drawing can support it. But I do not believe buttery materials are inherently better. Often, they are simply quieter about their consequences.

Pitt Pastels remind me that clarity comes from friction, not from ease. And in work that depends on observation, that reminder is invaluable.