Uplifting and mystical.
— The Palm Beach Daily News
Upon first view of Krista Bard’s art, your senses commingle immediately. Sight and scent reach the viewer in tandem and carry you through a journey mapped by the rhythm of her calligraphy; punctuated by the spirituality of her chosen words. The depth of her inspiration whispers at your subconscious causing one to relax and enjoy the vision that often radiates from a delicate drop of color in which shadows float away from impact. A sense of calm dominates as a result of the image and fragrance Krista Bard chooses to embellish in her work. The total experience lasts long after the first encounter.
— James R. Borynack, CEO, Wally Findlay Galleries
Uplifting, meditative inspiring and elegant… Alleluia gives joy and inspiration to patients, staff and visitors who travel through the Perelman Center. Thank you with deep appreciation.
— Ralph Muller, CEO of University of Pennsylvania Health System
Many late-20th-century artists sought to go beyond language, but today’s visual art tends to be wordy. While the Hirshhorn prepares its brassy, text-heavy Barbara Kruger installation, the Lithuanian Embassy is showing work by Krista Bard, whose approach is gentler and more mystical. Way more mystical, in fact. The calligraphic pieces in her “Sacred Words” series are all text, save for small splashes of bright color and substances such as frankincense, myrrh and holy water.
After anointing a sheet of paper, the Philadelphia artist covers it with words and phrases from hallowed works — including the Torah, the Bible and John Lennon’s “Imagine” — or more general benedictions. Some pieces array multiple languages, such as one inscribed with various words and characters for God. The process of rendering the intricate patterned text may constitute a form of meditation.
— Marc Jenkins, Washington Post
Her work is terrific.
— Daniel Patrick, New York Social Diary
I encountered Krista Bard’s paintings in early 2010.  My father had recently passed away and I was feeling deeply reflective, stranded in a sadness deeper and more tender than I had ever known.  It was a sadness about absence, of acute love whose only object now was memory, and it was a sadness that comes with encountering the vast silence of eternity.  In that unfamiliar space where I felt closest to my father, I became touched by the grace of prayer.  I entered churches open to feel a connection to spirit through speaking prayers.  I sought out copies of the Bible and lost myself in random passages. I began to recite the Lord’s Prayer to myself every night before sleep.  Our Father, who art in Heaven….

I came upon a prayer book in my father’s papers, printed in 1898, that had belonged to his aunt.  The palm-sized book was so fragile its pages crumbled at my touch.  It was a calendar of prayers, one a day for 365 days of the year.  I wrapped this book in a handkerchief and brought it to my apartment, assuming care of a lineage I had long forgotton and even discarded. Its language, culled from the gospels, the Book of Common Prayer, and from English and French poems and hymns, sustained in me a sense of grace and thanksgiving that I came to recognize as Christian love.  I had lived in its culture my whole life — Palestrina, Bach, Duccio, Rafael —but had never found meaning in its words.  My father’s death changed that for me. 

Krista Bard’s paintings offered yet another sign to give these prayers my time.  But the beauty of her work lies beyond the meditative trace of her liturgical prose inscribed in small writing over large expanses of paper. The paper ground has no lines, no borders. It is colored with dabs of paint – shades of blue, orange, yellow – that were made while the paper was wet, leaving pale traces, like halos in a spring rain. The composition, seemingly so slight, makes the whole page float in a deep, sightless space.  That space is where I’d been, and where I need to go to be reminded of my new dimension of humanity.
— Alexandra Munroe, Curator, Gugenheim
Inspiration is so needed in the world today. Krista Bard’s new series ‘Sacred Words’ is a refreshing exploration and celebration of spirit. It looks like nothing I have seen before. The form created by the words seems to vibrate with energy; and the words themselves draw you into a thoughtful state. The Hope for Depression Research Foundation is committed to finding a cure, so that the indomitable spirit in everyone can soar. The work ‘Hope Springs Eternal’ is a centerpiece to the exhibit and a moving icon for HDRF.
— Audrey Gruss, Founder & Chairman, Hope For Depression Research Foundation