Interviews – Visual Art Journal – Art Magazine https://visualartjournal.com Wed, 28 Jan 2026 02:32:22 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9 https://visualartjournal.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/android-chrome-512x512-1-100x100.png Interviews – Visual Art Journal – Art Magazine https://visualartjournal.com 32 32 Flavien Couche https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/28/flavien-couche/ https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/28/flavien-couche/#respond Wed, 28 Jan 2026 00:18:03 +0000 https://visualartjournal.com/?p=34440
Year of birth: 1981
Place of residence: Sète, France
Education: Bachelor’s degree in fine arts, enriched by art history, travel, and continuous practice of painting
Describe your art in three words: Intuitive – Sensory – Introspective
Your discipline: Painting
Website | Instagram

You discovered drawing and comics at a very young age. How did visual storytelling shape the way you compose your paintings today?

I began by telling stories even before I tried to create ‘finished’ images. Drawing and comic strips taught me very early on to think of images as sequences, spaces where something is happening, even in silence.

Even today, my paintings are constructed like fragments of a narrative: there are tensions, ellipses, areas of mystery. Even when there is no explicit narrative, I seek to create a flow of the gaze, an inner path for the viewer. The canvas becomes a place of projection, almost a mental stage.

You describe the Fauvist exhibition at the Grand Palais as a revelation. What did color suddenly allow you to express that line or form alone could not?

This exhibition was a shock and a revelation. I understood that colour could be a language in itself, autonomous, almost instinctive. Where lines structure and reassure, colour displaces, overflows, and sometimes even contradicts form. Also, the fact that I use only a narrow palette of colours allows for narrative linearity, which in a way imposes the appropriation of the work on the viewer.

It has also allowed me to express more complex, more ambiguous states: contradictory emotions, impulses, ruptures. Colour does not illustrate, it reveals. It acts directly on the body and memory, without passing through the filter of reasoning.

Flavien Couche | Interlude | 2025

Your work constantly moves between figuration and abstraction. What determines this balance in a painting — intuition, concept, or emotional state?

It is above all a question of intuition, of feeling, nourished by experience and the emotional state of the moment. I do not decide in advance how far figuration or abstraction will go. I also like to immerse myself in my daily life, to represent it in a raw way, without subtext. Most of the time, these elements provide both an anchor point and a loss of reference for the viewer. The painting guides me. Sometimes the figure imposes itself, sometimes it dissolves. This unstable balance reflects my way of perceiving the world: never completely legible, never completely abstract. I like this tipping point where the gaze hesitates, where nothing is fixed.

Flavien Couche | L Inspiration | 2025

The time you spent on Réunion Island marked a decisive shift in your palette. How did the landscape and atmosphere of the island transform your relationship with color and materials?

Reunion Island profoundly transformed my relationship with colour. There, the light is intense, almost physical, fragrant, and the colours are never neutral. They vibrate, they contrast, they clash.

I began to work with bolder, more saturated colours and with a freer medium. The climate, the volcanic landscapes and the lush vegetation encouraged me to let go of a certain restraint. I understood that painting could be organic, alive, in constant flux.

Flavien Couche | Le Carrelage | 2025

You often describe color and form as “revealers of the soul.” What kind of inner states are you most interested in revealing through your paintings?

I am interested in states of transition: doubt, fragility, momentum, the tension between calm and agitation. What matters to me are not spectacular emotions, but the often silent intermediate zones where something is transforming. This silence is fundamental to my work and its representation. My colours are deliberately chosen for their vividness, in order to energise this whispering world and create a paradox that I find interesting.

In short, painting allows me to make these inner, sometimes unconscious movements visible. It acts as a distorting but sincere mirror.

Flavien Couche | La planche et l | 2025

You cite German Expressionism, Fauvism, and Surrealism as major influences. How do these movements continue to resonate in your contemporary practice without becoming references or quotations?

For me, these movements are not models to be replicated, but sources of energy. Expressionism taught me the necessity of subjectivity and the immediate impact of representation; Fauvism, the freedom of form and colour; Surrealism, openness to the unconscious. They nourish my practice in a subterranean way. I do not seek to cite them, but to prolong their spirit: painting that is committed, instinctive, deeply human. I feel that the further I advance on my pictorial path, the more these influences become ‘watermarks’, well anchored but also less alienating.

Flavien Couche | La Stratégie | 2026

Ultimately, what do you hope the viewer carries with them after encountering one of your works: an emotion, a question, or a state of mind?

Ideally, an inner state. Something difficult to put into words, but which persists.

If an emotion arises or a question pops into mind, so much the better, but above all I want the viewer to leave with a feeling, an intimate resonance. I want the work to continue to have an effect, even after it has left the viewer’s gaze. It is important to me that my creation becomes the viewer’s new playground.

]]>
https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/28/flavien-couche/feed/ 0
Emma Coyle https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/27/coyle-emma/ https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/27/coyle-emma/#respond Tue, 27 Jan 2026 12:06:34 +0000 https://visualartjournal.com/?p=34401

Year of birth: 1981
Where do you live: London, U.K
Your education: BA in Fine Arts, NCAD Dublin, Ireland
Describe your art in three words: Figurative · Contemporary · Painting
Your discipline: Multidiscipline
Website

Emma Coyle | Collective Selection | 2024

Your work is often associated with Pop Art, yet you frequently reference Picasso and Matisse rather than Warhol. How do you personally define the lineage of your visual language?

I think knowledge of art through reading books and visiting galleries and museums defines the progress and development of my work. When I started making art in the 1990’s before galleries used the internet, books were the only way to learn about art history and magazine were how you learnt about international contemporary art.

I have always had a strong appetite for learning about art and in the 1990’s it was American Pop Art of the 1960’s which had a lasting effect on me. The impact from large works and bold colours really interested me. The following few years I found interest in the line-work of Modern artists from Picasso and Matisse to Mucha. I think knowledge of art history is important to learn from and a continuing interest in the development of contemporary is important. As an artist you never want to duplicate pass or current art but be inspired by the endless ideas within art.

You work extensively with contemporary magazine imagery and advertising. What draws you to a specific image, and how do you know when it has enough formal strength to become a painting?

I have used current print magazines and in particular fashion and style magazines as the starting point for my figurative work over the past fifteen years. At the start of my career, I had used images from 1920’s Japanese advertisements, Silver Screen movie images etc but I slowly became drawn to current advertising images. I constantly collect magazines and every few years I make a collection of the images which interest me the most. I choose images which are solely strong in form, there is no other influence. From there I can start work on one hundred or more drawings and tracings, adding and subtracting line work for months on end. From these one hundred plus drawings I use a process of elimination before moving on to painting. I keep grouping images together and narrowing down the numbers of drawings in each group. To explain when I know when to stop working on a drawing is impossible, each drawing is dealt with individually, you just have a sense when you know a drawing has enough information to proceed.

Emma Coyle | The Slice | 2025

Line plays a crucial role in your work, especially the balance between primary and secondary lines. How does line function for you emotionally and structurally within a composition?

Emotion is not something I try to embed into drawings or paintings. For me that relates to the narrative of a piece and is something I leave to the viewer. The line work in my paintings build the structure of each piece and it is used to create form and balance. Primary lines build the form of an individual and secondary lines as I refer to them are used to add movement or depth.

Emma Coyle | 25.01 | 2025

You are known for working in large scale, with paintings reaching several meters in height and length. How does scale affect your physical and conceptual relationship with the image?

The scale of my work has continuously grown over the past twenty plus years. I use it to push the work further; with larger scale the impact of the work is greater. And with a greater amount of canvas to work with this allows you to develop your ideas. I don’t think any artist ever wants to stop developing their work, each year you want to push your ideas to another level. I can plan studio work up to five years ahead, but these plans change from to new ideas found while painting.

Emma Coyle | Collective Selection | 2023

Your process of mixing paint – never using it directly from the tube and carrying pigments from one work to another – feels almost archival. What does this continuity of material mean to you?

An artist naturally wants to experiment and produce their own pigments and be know for their own pallet of colour. It is a very important part of our studio practice and the foundation for the work we produce. I have pots which have not been cleaned for over twenty years. Even what can look like white on my canvas is paint which contain small pigments of reds, browns or yellows. Painting demands respect and painters are dedicated to the production of work which this is based on. My paintings have always been based on development, to work hard and continually push forward ideas and to never reproduce what I have made in the past. My pallet has always been pushed within each series of paintings over the years. Bringing pigments as a starting point from one series to the following to develop has always been an interest of mine and coincides with the development of all aspects of my work.

Emma Coyle | Big Mouth | 2025

Your recent figurative works feel simultaneously minimal and emotionally charged. How do you strip away detail without losing psychological intensity?

As I have mentioned the emotion in my paintings for me relate to the narrative of each piece, which I leave to the viewer. In my paintings produced over the past five years I have not touched on the emotion of a figure. Form is the main interest I have in each piece and I am able to keep intensity in each form from years of experience of working with drawings. Continuously working on drawings for each series is the experience I needed to produce the work I am now creating.

Emma Coyle | 25.02 | 2025

Traveling between and working in Dublin, New York, and London has clearly shaped your career. How have these cities influenced your visual language and professional trajectory?

Meeting people with different ideas, working with different artists, curator, galleries and agents in different cities is the best work for any artist to develop their own ideas. There is a constant energy and excitement which comes from cities, the art world is never stagnant and is always changing because of the people who work within it. Continually visiting galleries and museums is so important to any artist’s career. Not only does it help you articulate your own work but adds to the depth of work you produce. An artist’s appetite to stand out from the crowd is never full.

]]>
https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/27/coyle-emma/feed/ 0
PEPI / JUN YASUDA https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/27/pepi-jun-yasuda/ https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/27/pepi-jun-yasuda/#respond Tue, 27 Jan 2026 00:35:09 +0000 https://visualartjournal.com/?p=34385

Year of birth: 1987
Where do you live: Hokkaido, Japan & Bristol, UK
Describe your art in three words: Journey · Culture · Freedom of Expression
Your discipline: Do whatever you want, as long as no one is harmed. Just dare to loosen one screw of what’s called common sense.
Website | Instagram

You began your professional path in medicine and later made a radical shift toward art. What inner realization or moment made you certain that art was your true calling?

Many people continue to love what they loved in childhood, even as they grow older.This is something I came to understand through my studies and experiences in psychiatry.Somewhat unexpectedly, it was medicine that helped me realize how essential art is to me.For me, art is one way of returning to a state of pure, childlike innocence —a space constantly filled with stimulation, curiosity, and wonder.At the same time, it serves as a form of detox and healing for myself.The moments when adults are able to return to their inner child are profoundly beautiful.

How did your experience of traveling the world influence your way of seeing, sensing, and translating emotions into visual form?

We Japanese tend to be reserved, expressing our emotions less openly and often preferring to be the same as everyone else.For me, this felt confining.The people I have met around the world express themselves freely — boldly and colorfully and they value connection.What I feel especially strongly is their deep respect for religion, nature, and human relationships.These values give powerful inspiration to my art.They are also less concerned with how others see them.Many people know who they are and are unafraid to show it.This continually reminds my art — and myself — to be true, to be freer, and to keep spreading my wings.

PEPI / JUN YASUDA | Expression

Your works often depict sleeping or closed-eyed faces. What does the state of sleep represent for you emotionally and symbolically?

When we sleep, we are all vulnerable, and it becomes a time of healing. As the phrase “sleeping like a child” suggests, when we sleep, we all return to being children. It also carries the desire to keep dreaming, to remain comfortably asleep a quiet escape from the fatigue and stress of modern society.

PEPI / JUN YASUDA | Expression

Flowers appear repeatedly in your work as a central motif. Why did flowers become such an important symbol of love, connection, and emotional flow in your visual language?

Images of my grandmother and mother tending the garden and admiring flowers have stayed with me since childhood.I received so much love from both my mother and grandmother.Perhaps because of that, flowers gradually came to mean love to me.People are always drawn to flowers.From a single beauty, countless connections are born.Yet flowers themselves are finite they bloom, they fall, and they never show the same form again.By painting them, they are no longer bound by finitude.This is the kind of flower I continue to imagine and create.

PEPI / JUN YASUDA | Mind Shapes On Paper Series

You describe your expressions as “gentle” and “childlike.” Do you see this softness as a form of resistance in today’s fast-paced, often harsh world?

It is an act of resistance, and it is infinite love. In the face of the harsh realities of this world, I believe love is the only thing that can truly resist. Not only on a global scale, but also in our everyday lives, love is always present.I believe love exists in our care for others, and in each small action we take.

PEPI / JUN YASUDA | Expression

Your work often conveys a sense of care, love, and emotional safety. Is this something you consciously aim to offer the viewer, or does it emerge naturally?

Feelings such as compassion, love, and inner calm arise unconsciously. Some people may experience entirely different sensations when viewing my work — and that is completely valid. There is no single correct interpretation. If, for some, these feelings gently and naturally emerge, that is what brings me joy.

PEPI / JUN YASUDA | Expression

Living in Bristol after being born in Hokkaido, how do different cultures and environments shape your artistic identity today?

Hokkaido is a region surrounded by vast natural landscapes.While there are many opportunities to connect with nature, there are fewer opportunities to encounter art.There are also fewer artists.Bristol, on the other hand, is a city overflowing with art, where it is easy to meet artists every day.Because of this, my days are constantly filled with stimulation and inspiration.Meeting so many artists has also changed the way I think about art.In the past to put it bluntly I may have simply been making art.Now, I recognize art and creative practice as an integral part of who I am.This is because every artist I meet in Bristol carries art as a part of themselves.

]]>
https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/27/pepi-jun-yasuda/feed/ 0
Marijana Filipović https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/27/marijana-filipovic/ https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/27/marijana-filipovic/#respond Tue, 27 Jan 2026 00:22:41 +0000 https://visualartjournal.com/?p=34380
Born in 1986 in Mostar, Bosnia and Herzegovina, she graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts in Široki Brijeg, University of Mostar, in 2010 with a degree in Painting. In the same year, she enrolled in the postgraduate program Ars Sacra, which she completed in 2013. To date, she has held eight solo exhibitions and participated in around sixty group exhibitions. She currently lives in Mostar and, since 2015, has been working as a painting instructor at the Gabrijela Jurkić High School of Fine Arts in Mostar.
Instagram

The cycle “Prayer” continues your earlier project “Record of the Soul”. What inner necessity led you to this transition, and what shifted for you conceptually between the two cycles?

The cycle “Prayer” (2025) builds on the previous cycle “Record of the Soul,” exploring themes of inner reflection, the peeling away of layers, and personal transformation. It consists of seven circular wall objects – relief plaster discs with recesses in which mirrors are located. The surface of the mirror is covered with a layer of pieces of coal and ash, over which melted white wax with a wick is poured, creating a relief surface that can burn. Compared to previous works, in which a colored wire served as a supporting structure, in “Prayer” this function is taken over by the wick – an element that no longer holds the structure, but gradually destroys it. Burning becomes an act of liberation, and the mirror is revealed only through this process – a kind of inner “cleansing”.

The transition from the cycle “Record of the Soul” to “Prayer” was a logical sequence because recording internal states was no longer enough. I was further inspired by the late professor Ante Kajinić’s quote that art is prayer – I have always felt it, but lately I have been experiencing it more intensely than ever. Conceptually, the key change between the cycles is the shift from writing to process.

Fire plays a central role in “Prayer” – not only as a visual effect, but as a real, destructive force. What does burning represent for you personally, beyond symbolism?

For me, fire in the cycle “Prayer” is not just a metaphor, but a real, unpredictable force with which I enter into a relationship. Burning marks a moment of irreversible loss of control – a process that cannot be reversed, but can only be followed and accepted. The size and shape of the “space” for smoldering varies; sometimes it is restrained, emphasizing the solid surface of the plaster, and sometimes openly, allowing for a slow and unpredictable process that leaves uneven traces. The flame gradually decomposes the form, which represents an act of liberation and giving up on the need to preserve everything in order to reveal what was previously hidden.

Marijana Filipović | Prayer

In this series, the mirror is hidden and only revealed through burning. How do you understand the act of self-recognition in your work – is it something violent, gentle, or inevitable?

I experience self-recognition in my work as inevitable. It does not happen gently or violently, but through the process of removing the layers that protect and deceive us. The mirror is revealed only through burning, when superficiality disappears. A paraphrase of St. Augustine’s thought sums up the essence of this experience: what we seek has always been present within us, but obscured by layers that have yet to be burned. What remains is not an ideal image, but a real, stripped-down reflection.

Marijana Filipović | Prayer

Your objects exist between sculpture, painting, and ritual. At what point does the artwork stop being an object and become an experience or act?

A work of art ceases to be just an object when it enters process and time – like a candle that smolders and burns out. Form is no longer permanent; it becomes an event, an act, and an experience. The verticality of the work invokes an inner axis, while combustion becomes a silent moment of introspection. The flame removes the superficial and reveals that the search for light begins within.

Marijana Filipović | Prayer

The traces of smoke, cracks, and melted wax feel almost like drawings made by fire itself. Do you see fire as a collaborator in these works?

Yes, I see fire as a direct collaborator in the work. During burning, the flame and smoke spontaneously write traces on the surface of the plaster – dark lines, cracks, and deformations emerge with their own rhythm and force. The melted wax and traces of smoke act like reliefs and drawings created by the fire itself, shaping and disintegrating the object at the same time. Fire thus becomes a co-author, whose behavior completes the work.

Marijana Filipović | Prayer

One work remains active during the exhibition, slowly burning in front of the audience. How does the presence of time and impermanence change the viewer’s relationship with the work?

Six works will be displayed in a post-burnt state, while the seventh will smolder in front of the audience. The visitor will be able to follow the process of the emergence and disappearance of the seventh work, becoming aware of the transience of matter. The slow burning of the seventh work and the gradual uncovering of the mirror introduce a ritualistic, introspective dimension in which the viewer becomes a participant.

If “Prayer” is a silent inner act, what do you hope remains with the viewer after leaving the exhibition space?

I hope that the viewer will remain with a sense of inner silence and introspective space even after the opening of the exhibition. The subdued lighting will emphasize the drama of the burning, while the tones of the duduk lead the visitor towards a meditative experience. Seeing their reflection in the uncovered mirror, each visitor can encounter their own outline and their own sense of truth.

]]>
https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/27/marijana-filipovic/feed/ 0
Márta Nyilas https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/27/marta-nyilas/ https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/27/marta-nyilas/#respond Tue, 27 Jan 2026 00:22:34 +0000 https://visualartjournal.com/?p=34445
Year of birth: 1967
Where do you live: Pécs, Hungary
Your education: 1996–1999: University of Pécs, Hungary, Faculty of Music and Arts, Doctoral Painting Programme (Master: Ilona Keserü); 1995–1996: Janus Pannonius University, Pécs, Hungary, Faculty of Music and Arts, Master’s School (Master: Ilona Keserü); 1988–1994: Academy of Visual Arts “Ioan Andreescu”, Cluj-Napoca, Romania.
Describe your art in three words: painting without unnecessary thoughts
Your discipline: Painting
Website

Your artistic journey moves from informal non-figurative and gestural painting toward a delicate balance between figuration and abstraction. What inner or conceptual shifts prompted this transition over time?

Indeed, looking at the totality of my works, there is a shift from the non-figurative direction, toward a delicate painterly style between figuration and non-figurativeness. I did indeed do non-figurative painting for a decade or so. In recent years I have been interested in how I could present classical scenes such as those inspired by the Bible in a contemporary way.

At the same time, it is well known that there is no difference between the criteria for creating a figurative and a non-figurative image. Unless the non-figurative picture is focus less, i.e. it does not have a main plot, it should be constructed in the same way as one that contains recognizable depicted forms. Composition, rhythm, colors and their tonal scale, different textures, opaque and translucent painted surfaces. Of course, in the case of a figurative painting, you have to figure out what should be on it, so to speak, i.e. with what elements and their arrangement you can convey the desired message. Meanwhile, in non-figurative painting, the painter works with elements that are universally used: homogeneous or color-to-tone gradient surfaces, spots, lines, bands, etc., concrete (geometric) or painterly treated.

Recently in addition to my paintings balancing between figuration and abstraction, I have just revived a series of non-figurative pictures that I started more than thirty years ago and which I considered closed at the time – where I interpreted the letter as an element of image construction, a band, – and to which type of paintings I turn back with great excitement and expectation while the works are still in the experimental stage.

Márta Nyilas | Dream About The Orange Flower | 2023

You describe your recent works as lyrical, intuitive, and emotionally charged. How do you recognize the moment when intuition should lead, rather than conscious composition?

This is a very apt question. I think that in general consciousness and lack of it alternate in the making of a painting. I think that those paintings of mine are successful which, after a long period of contemplation, make you say I have lost my mind. Sometimes I try to consciously induce the lack of control, sometimes I fail. But when I manage to lose my mind on purpose an uncontrollable force bursts out and radiates from my body. In such cases, the brush does not make mistakes: it brings the necessary line exactly there and in such a way, or places a spot as it should, even in a new and apt way that I could not have imagined. In these cases, I fully accept the risk and usually make the right decision.

However, sometimes the loss of control seems to happen randomly, but of course this is preceded by a longer period of time when I am filled with my own experiments. The beginning of this process can be triggered by a color found in a part of the picture, or a well-placed brushstroke. At such times, I usually feel that I can do anything with the painting that has been completed up to that point; I am bursting with a good sense of self-confidence, and I live in the present with my whole being. Surely, then, thought and action become one.

Márta Nyilas | Pieta | 2024

Many of your paintings seem to exist on the threshold of narrative and abstraction. How important is storytelling to you, and how much do you leave open for the viewer’s interpretation?

I am incredibly careful not to let the narrative dominate the picture. I try to formulate a story according to a contemporary feeling and perspective. Fragmentation is one of the characteristics of our time. Therefore, I only want to provide the viewer with clues so that they can build the story of the picture according to their own vision. Of course, my pictures in question have a message, but I leave it to the viewer’s imagination to decide what kind of interpretive branches can arise from this backbone.

Márta Nyilas | Sunday Afternoon | 2025

Rhythm and the physical trace of the brush play a central role in your work. Can you speak about the relationship between bodily gesture, movement, and meaning in your painting process?

According to experts, a mode of cognition closely related to visual cognition is kinesthetic or neuro-muscular cognition. This means that the artist tries with his whole being to follow, or more precisely, to almost imitate, what is happening to the form and all its parts. “I paint a window the way I look out of it. We must behave in painting exactly as we behave in life,” says Picasso. Like this observation, I am trying to display figurative motifs, in my own traceable rhythm. The main carrier and reflection of the painter’s state of mind is, as is known, is the brushstroke, with which I strive to keep all the details of the picture together, so that the viewer also perceives it as a unit. My brushstrokes are brisk and dynamic; one of my painting colleagues says they are fluttering.

Márta Nyilas | The Night | 2021

You often simplify forms until they approach abstraction. What determines how far a figure can dissolve before it loses its emotional or symbolic core?

We can only abstract what we know well. I try to simplify the form I want to display to its essential characteristics as judged by me, while constantly paying attention to its adaptation to the two-dimensional character of the canvas. In this way, I simultaneously keep in mind the spatiality of the motif and its compression into two dimensions.

Márta Nyilas | The Good Shepherd | 2024

In recent years, you have been drawn to themes that resemble biblical scenes, not for their religious meaning, but for their archetypal familiarity. What attracts you to these well-known visual structures?

I do not want to offend Christian believers, but I believe that scenes depicting Biblical scriptures are, even without the holy book, the most faithful types of relationships between humans, or between human and in general with the animals tamed by the man. I prefer scenes with few characters since I have always been interested in depicting intimate relationships.

Márta Nyilas | The Dream | 2021

Having studied under influential figures such as Ilona Keserü and Markus Lüpertz, what lasting impact did these experiences have on your approach to painting?

I received a classical painting training in Cluj-Napoca, for which I am very grateful, but upon arriving in Pécs, Ilona Keserü in addition to her openness to the love of colors introduced me to an avant-garde experimental painting mindset, which opened new doors for me in the field of painting.

The painting workshop I spent with Markus Lüpertz had a great influence on my creative attitude: his words gave me self-confidence, which I still recall today when I am in a negative creative wave: “You have a very good sense for painting!” he told me in the summer of 1996.

However, when it comes to mastering the secrets of painting, I must also mention Matteo Massagrande, from whom in the late few summer art camps I learned about the importance of color tones in a painting or the importance of the type of applied paint.

]]>
https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/27/marta-nyilas/feed/ 0
Fatima M Khan https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/26/fatima-m-khan/ https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/26/fatima-m-khan/#respond Mon, 26 Jan 2026 12:13:43 +0000 https://visualartjournal.com/?p=34435

Year of birth: 1987
Your education: BA (Hons) Fine Art, Slade School of Fine Art, University College London
Describe your art in three words: Observational · Precise · Intentional
Your discipline: Painting (Hyper-realism)
Instagram

Your Reflection / Puddle Series centers on fleeting reflections of architecture. What first drew you to puddles and glass as carriers of memory rather than solid architectural forms themselves?

While living in London, I became acutely aware of how rain transformed the city. Puddles on pavements and reflections in glass façades appeared daily, quietly mirroring historic and contemporary architecture. These temporary surfaces began to feel more truthful to me than solid structures themselves. Their fleeting nature became a metaphor for architectural memory forms that exist briefly before disappearing, much like buildings that slowly vanish over time due to neglect and the lack of conservation in their countries of origin.

Hyper-realism often emphasizes permanence and precision. How do you reconcile this meticulous technique with themes of impermanence, erosion, and disappearance?

Hyper-realism allows me to slow down what is inherently fleeting. By rendering reflections with precision and care, I give permanence to moments that would otherwise disappear instantly. The tension between meticulous technique and fragile subject matter mirrors the contradiction at the heart of my work, using permanence to preserve what is already vanishing.

Many of your reflected buildings carry historical weight. How do you select architectural subjects, and do they relate to places of personal significance for you?

I am from Pakistan, and many of the reflected buildings in my work belong to Pakistan, India, and Bangladesh. Having encountered countless such structures while living in Pakistan, I later selected specific buildings through my research—those in which architectural beauty still emerges beneath eroded façades. These buildings carry both historical weight and personal familiarity, functioning as quiet witnesses to a shared cultural memory.

In your work, reflections appear fragile and easily disturbed. Do you see the viewer as an active participant who metaphorically “disturbs” the image by observing it?

Yes. I intentionally exclude human figures from the series so the viewer can inhabit the image themselves. The fragility of the reflections invites the act of looking to become a form of disturbance, positioning the viewer as an active presence within the work rather than a detached observer.

Your paintings often blur boundaries between past and present. Do you consider your work more as documentation, preservation, or quiet critique of contemporary urban life?

I consider the work an act of preservation rather than critique. It is driven by admiration for cities such as London, where historic architecture has been carefully retained and woven into contemporary urban life. By holding these moments in reflection, the paintings acknowledge the past as a living presence—one that can coexist with modernity when conservation is valued.

Your work has moved from intimate studio practice to large-scale public display in cities like London and New York. How does public space change the way your work is read?

When the work enters public space, it shifts from a private act of looking to a shared experience. Displayed in cities such as London and New York, the images gain a heightened sense of reality, placing the past visibly within the present. In these contexts, where historic architecture has been preserved, the work creates a quiet contrast between past and present, allowing reflection to function as a bridge between the two.

Many viewers describe a sense of stillness and pause in your paintings. Is creating that moment of contemplation an intentional part of your practice?

Yes, it is intentional. While the paintings invite stillness and slow the viewer down, they also acknowledge the passage of time. Puddles dry, reflections in glass shift throughout the day; buses, people, clouds move, and by night the image transforms again. The work holds this tension between pause and movement, reminding the viewer that even in moments of quiet contemplation, time continues to pass.

]]>
https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/26/fatima-m-khan/feed/ 0
Sharon Harms https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/26/sharon-harms/ https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/26/sharon-harms/#respond Mon, 26 Jan 2026 00:46:04 +0000 https://visualartjournal.com/?p=34320

Year of birth: 1957
Where do you live: Nashville, TN
Your education: High school, with a mix of college-level design and art classes in the 1970s and 2000s
Describe your art in three words: present, precise, allegorical
Your discipline: Hyperrealism
Website | Instagram

You spent decades working as an advertising art director before turning fully to painting. How did that background shape the way you think about visual storytelling today?

Advertising showed me just how powerful visuals can be. Everything that goes into the design of an ad matters when it comes to articulating a brand’s story and shaping how it’s perceived. It’s a deliberate process, one that involves the careful crafting of every detail.

I learned that stories aren’t shaped only by what is shown, but by how it’s presented. Hierarchy, scale, pattern, and color all influence what a viewer takes away. After so many years honing those art-direction skills, creating compositions for my still lifes has become very instinctive. In a way, using objects as visual language in my paintings feels like a natural extension of that experience.

You’ve said that each painting often begins with a single object that captures your curiosity. Can you describe a recent object that sparked an unexpected narrative for you?

I became fixated on the small ceramic unicorn figurine featured in my latest painting, The quest. The unicorn carries a lot of mystery and symbolism, and once I began placing other objects alongside it, I sensed that the story could unfold in many directions.

Rather than forcing a narrative, I let the objects guide me and looked for connections that resonated beneath the surface. I initially saw the unicorn as whimsical, but over time it revealed deeper spiritual connotations. In relation to the other objects in the painting, it became a symbol of the elusiveness of spiritual enlightenment. And the very human desire to pursue it.

Sharon Harms | Still Holding On | 2024

Many of your works combine hyper-realism with surreal or symbolic juxtapositions. What draws you to still life as a vehicle for psychological or philosophical ideas?

My work is about searching, sifting, and examining the things people collect as a way to uncover insights about the world we create. Objects carry personal histories, cultural echoes, and subtle associations that reveal themselves over time as I develop a still life and paint it.

The narratives that emerge can be fleeting, but once a still life is set, it doesn’t change. The solidity of hyperrealism has a grounding effect. It creates a space for reflection, a place where clarity can emerge through sustained attention.

Sharon Harms | Everyone Thought Frank Was A Company Man | 2022

Coming to painting full-time later in life, did your sense of artistic freedom change compared to your earlier creative work in advertising?

Yes, there’s a freedom I didn’t have in the commercial world, but paradoxically, the process can be more difficult when there are endless possibilities. As an art director, my work was shaped by my clients’ marketing needs, which were always defined at the outset of a project. I was always telling a story with a specific goal in mind. I knew the endpoint before I began.

As an artist, I’m looking for meaning that isn’t tied to a predetermined outcome. I’ve realized I often created more easily when parameters narrowed the field of possibility. Now it takes a leap of faith every time I start a painting.

Sharon Harms | Anatomy Lesson | 2021

Your paintings often invite the viewer to “read” them slowly, noticing subtle details and connections. How important is viewer interpretation in completing the work?

My painting style is precise, but the visual language I use is intentionally open. The individual histories and experiences viewers bring to the work expand it and reinforce the idea that our physical world isn’t fixed or singular.

I didn’t anticipate how interactive this aspect of the work would become when I first began painting these still lifes. Each piece is an invitation for the viewer to look, to notice, to think, and ultimately to complete the story for themselves.

Sharon Harms | Escape | 2020

Hyperrealism is frequently associated with technical mastery. What role does discipline play in your studio practice, and where do you allow space for uncertainty?

From an early age, I was drawn to details. I had a natural ability to draw and paint realistically, and that inclination stayed with me. Over the years, I experimented with many techniques, materials, and styles, but nothing has felt as satisfying as completing a successful hyperrealistic painting.

Creating a sense of presence on a two-dimensional surface is challenging, but deeply rewarding when I get it right. The vulnerability lies in not knowing whether what I’m committing to the canvas will hold up to the intense scrutiny that the genre demands.

Living and working in Nashville now, does your current environment influence your choice of objects, mood, or color palette?

At this stage of my life, I value Nashville’s slower pace and ease of living. It gives me the space to examine details, something I’ve never lost interest in. I’m able to observe what people keep in their homes, what they care about, and what they hold onto.

Nashville is also quirky and a bit kitschy, and I’m continually inspired by the oddities I discover in junk stores and flea markets. I let those found objects guide the work.

]]>
https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/26/sharon-harms/feed/ 0
Romain Demongivert https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/26/romain-demongivert/ https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/26/romain-demongivert/#respond Mon, 26 Jan 2026 00:01:38 +0000 https://visualartjournal.com/?p=34346

Year of birth: 1996
Where do you live: Paris, France
Your education: Gobelins School, Paris
Describe your art in three words: Colorful, Dreamy, Peaceful
Website | Instagram

Romain Demongivert | Attrape RêVe | 2025

Your work often feels like a quiet moment suspended between reality and a dream. How do you usually begin a new piece – with a memory, a feeling, or an image?

Since I live with aphantasia, my process differs from many artists who visualize a clear image before they begin. Because I cannot ‘see’ internally, I rely on my other senses—and above all, my emotions. My starting point is often a fleeting feeling or a simple word that resonates within me. This is actually why most of my pieces have one-word titles: a single word is enough to encapsulate the emotional essence I seek to translate onto paper.

Romain Demongivert | Géode | 2025

Studio Ghibli is often mentioned as an influence in your practice. What aspects of its storytelling or visual language resonate with you most deeply?

I grew up immersed in the Ghibli universe thanks to my parents. What deeply moves me is their contemplative approach: the ability to suspend time through music, composition, and magnified scenes of daily life. Films like Arrietty, Kiki’s Delivery Service, and Castle in the Sky left a lasting mark on me with their blend of reality and fantasy. They use the magical as a metaphor for life’s milestones. My ambition is to create images that are just as beautiful, profound, and meaningful in my own way.

Romain Demongivert | Baignade | 2024

You work primarily with gouache on paper. What does this medium allow you to express that digital or other traditional media cannot?

After exploring Posca markers and digital illustration, I turned to gouache for its relationship with the unpredictable. I love navigating that tension between technical control and the ‘letting go’ that traditional media demands. Gouache allows me to achieve highly saturated, vibrant flat tones that are essential to my creative process. This organic texture and depth of color give my work a dreamlike yet tangible quality that I cannot find anywhere else.

Many of your characters appear introspective, resting, or absorbed in their inner worlds. What draws you to these intimate, quiet moments?

I see my illustrations as frozen moments, parentheses outside of time. I want the viewer to feel as though they are holding this fragile scene in the palm of their hands. By depicting characters absorbed in their inner worlds, I invite the observer to sit beside them and experience a quiet moment, often tinged with a gentle melancholy. It is an invitation to empathy and a pause in a world that moves too fast.

Romain Demongivert | Bouquet | 2024

Your universes often blend everyday objects with fantastical elements. How important is daily life as a starting point for your imagination?

Reimagining a common object outside of its primary function is my way of re-enchanting reality. In an era saturated with anxiety-inducing information, I believe it is vital to allow ourselves to dream. Finding magic in everyday objects isn’t an escape from reality, but a way to make it gentler. This need for poetry and breathing space is what I aim to share through my blending of the ordinary and the imaginary.

You describe your practice as a bridge between the tangible world and the subconscious. How do you know when a piece has reached that balance?

There is no set rule; it’s purely intuitive. It’s a feeling that emerges while I’m painting. I sometimes set sketches aside for months because I feel a ‘key’ or an emotion is missing, without being able to explain why. I have to wait until my own state of mind is in sync with the piece to be able to finish it and find that exact balance between the tangible world and the subconscious.

Romain Demongivert | Café | 2025

What do you hope viewers feel or carry with them after encountering your work?

I first hope to captivate them with the brilliance of the colors, like a call to step closer. Once that connection is established, I want them to make the image their own through the lens of their own life stories. For me, drawing is about freezing a personal emotion on paper, but the work only truly comes alive when it resonates with someone else. What moves me most is discovering how my own silences and dreams manage to speak to the intimate histories of others.

]]>
https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/26/romain-demongivert/feed/ 0
Katerina Kirik https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/25/katerina-kirik/ https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/25/katerina-kirik/#respond Sun, 25 Jan 2026 11:52:07 +0000 https://visualartjournal.com/?p=34330

Year of birth: 1981
Your education: Financial Academy under the Government of the Russian Federation, Moscow
Describe your art in three words: Flow, current, wind, energy
Your discipline: For now, it is the form of a vase, but I think this is just the beginning.
Instagram

Your professional background is in finance, hospitality, and interior design. What moment or inner shift led you to fully commit to clay and sculptural ceramics?

Yes, at the time when I was applying for higher education, finance and law were the most popular fields. I did not work in my specialty for long, as I quickly realized that a dress code was not for me. From then on, my path was entirely creative: working with jewelry from India, running an event agency and creating celebrations, doing interior renovations in apartments and chalets, and even opening a restaurant in Krasnaya Polyana. Later came a reset and a pause due to the joyful experience of maternity leave.

I happened to come across a video in my feed showing a pottery wheel—how hands give birth to form—and it captivated me visually, so I decided to try it. In the end, however, I focused on hand-building. I feel the clay better this way and can move at my own rhythm, rather than the rhythm of the wheel. I never plan or sketch my vases in advance; I find that boring. What truly interests me is the flow of the process and where it leads—so-called intuitive sculpting, when it is not the mind or the eyes that shape the work, but some deeper essence of yourself that wants to manifest through the clay. In the end, there is a childlike sense of joy, because it is always a surprise.

Water is a recurring presence in your work – rivers, sea ripples, flowing energy. What does water symbolize for you personally and artistically?

By a twist of fate 🙂 I moved ten years ago from the bustling and cold Moscow to Sochi to warm up.

Looking at water is always calming; waves are the rhythms of life, the restoration of our energy — that is what water means to me. Sochi is full of mountain rivers and waterfalls. The water there is so different, always a living energy. I suppose I looked at it so intensely that I began to recreate it myself 🙂

I really love leaving my fingerprints on the clay, as if they were the ripples of the sea. It creates the feeling that the vase is breathing and moving, yet remains still.

Katerina Kirik | Morskaya | 2025

Many of your vases resemble human bodies, often imperfect and asymmetrical. Why is bodily imperfection important to you as a visual language?

There is a current trend focused on working on oneself, improving, and changing. I have always done this too—examining my body, noticing where its parts are not the same, and trying to bring them into symmetry. I was truly surprised when I started sculpting and realized that my vases are also asymmetrical, and that this is exactly what is so pleasing to look at. It creates a kind of wave—again, movement, energy. Our bodies are not static; they are energy, a dynamic structure that can be shaped and transformed. And it’s important to enjoy the fact that we are all different, to observe and appreciate these unique features rather than hide them or try to conform to standards. I can see this trend gaining momentum now.

You work primarily with large-scale hand-built vases. What physical or emotional challenges does working at this scale bring?

Yes, I realized almost immediately that I wanted to work with large forms. The only problem I’m facing right now is that I can’t fit my vases into the kiln, so I have to reduce their size.:)

Katerina Kirik | Perelivi | 2025

Movement and lightness are central sensations in your forms. How do you translate something as intangible as flow or energy into clay?

Clay is a medium that carries human energy. I simply pass on my own — it’s that simple. In this sense, I like to see people through their creative work.

Your works balance strength and fragility. How do you perceive this duality, and is it connected to your understanding of the human condition?

An interesting observation. I would say lightness and strength — and these are no longer contradictions 🙂 My vases are people, living beings. Each one is different and beautiful, and you can talk to them. That’s why glazing them is so difficult for me. It feels as if I’m hiding them, wrapping them in dresses and cloaks 🙂 Some of them remain in raw clay — I feel they will find their buyer, someone who doesn’t need them to wear clothes 🙂

Katerina Kirik | Reka | 2025

You also teach adults in your studio. How does teaching affect your own practice and perception of clay?

When you watch how people interact with clay, you realize how different everyone is. The calmer and more relaxed a person is, the faster they connect with it.

I usually begin talking about clay with these words: “Don’t rush — it needs your love and gentleness 🙂 Make friends with it, and it will do everything the way you want.”

For some, it works from the very first try.

]]>
https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/25/katerina-kirik/feed/ 0
Marc Foloni https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/25/marc-foloni/ https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/25/marc-foloni/#respond Sun, 25 Jan 2026 00:39:49 +0000 https://visualartjournal.com/?p=34315
Year of birth: 1990
Where do you live: São Paulo, Brazil
Your education: Bachelor’s degree in Communications with a Master’s in Neuroscience
Describe your art in three words: Psychological · Liminal · Ambiguous
Your discipline: Painting and Installation Art
Instagram

Your work often exists between abstraction and figuration. How do you personally navigate this threshold, and what does it allow you to express that a more defined image would not?

My process begins intuitively, guided by impulse rather than preparation. I work without sketches, allowing the image to emerge as a quiet transmission of inner experience. What remains unresolved—between what is shown and what is suggested—invites the viewer into their own reading. The titles stay minimal, because the work is meant to be felt before it is understood.

The recurring figure in your practice functions almost like an alter ego. When did this persona first emerge, and how has it evolved over time?

In 2015, I was in Medellín, Colombia, and had already held my first exhibition in Brazil, still working in a style different from my current one. The month I spent there with my partner at the time was so intense and transformative that it resulted in a series of 40 watercolors. It was there that I found my style—the forms, the gestures, my artistic self. Time passed, but the pattern remained and continues to manifest autonomously, always in variation, yet anchored by a constant.

Marc Foloni | Black White Wing

Many of your figures appear androgynous or zoomorphic. What role does ambiguity of identity play in your exploration of the subconscious?

I am deeply influenced by psychoanalysis and psychology. Everything carries meaning, whether I understand it rationally or not—I can be part animal, part man, part woman, part everything, and so can every human being. My method of painting as an act of speech creates moments I prefer to leave open, allowing the viewer to discover, reinterpret, or identify with them.

Marc Foloni | Black White Wing

In White, Black, Wing, you restrict yourself to a black-and-white palette. What does this radical reduction make possible conceptually and emotionally?

Every absence carries meaning. I like to say a lot with very little, and I believe this series expresses exactly that. Joy, intensity, pain, love, freedom, and doubt—universal feelings. Here, the intensity lies precisely in the absence of color, control versus risk, containment versus flight, which still creates harmony and balance.

Marc Foloni | Black White Wing

The eye is a persistent motif in this series. Do you see it more as a symbol of perception, vulnerability, or surveillance—or something else entirely?

The eye can be everything; it serves as a powerful metaphor for our generation. At times it relates to surveillance, but more often to vulnerability and openness—still strong, yet exposed. In dialogue with the wing, it suggests awareness and introspection rather than control, existing quietly, fragile, and unresolved.

Marc Foloni | Black White Wing

Your lines often feel both decisive and fragile. How important is the physical gesture of drawing or painting in conveying psychological tension?

I paint on the floor, feeling my body in contact with the surface, immersed in a silence that can last minutes, hours, or even days. Afterwards, I contemplate, compare, and try to understand what I’ve created. I believe each work is a fragment of my life that I don’t wish to express in words. Strength and fragility are always in harmony, in one way or another.

Marc Foloni | Black White Wing

You describe the works as resisting fixed meaning. What kind of role do you hope the viewer takes on when encountering these images?

For me, the most magical aspect of my artistic style is listening to the meanings others bring to the work. This not only makes me happy, but also leads me to reconsider what I hadn’t seen myself. When someone tries to decipher a piece and shares their interpretation, it means they felt something—and that deeply satisfies me. I prefer to ask people, “What do you see here?” After ten years as a visual artist, I still hear completely new interpretations of works from 2016 or 2018 and think, wow, you’ve opened something no one had ever seen before.

]]>
https://visualartjournal.com/2026/01/25/marc-foloni/feed/ 0