Interview
You transitioned from graphic design to contemporary art after fifteen years in the field. What prompted this shift, and how has your design background influenced your approach to painting?
After many years in graphic design, I felt the need for a more personal and intuitive form of expression. Contemporary art allowed me to move beyond external briefs and explore inner experience and memory. My design background still influences how I build composition, rhythm, and balance — but now these structures serve emotion rather than function.
Your work draws from urban rhythm and Mediterranean light. How do these environmental and cultural elements shape the mood or energy of your canvases?
Living by the Mediterranean, I’m surrounded by brightness, movement, and contrasts — between sun and shadow, noise and stillness. These sensations define the rhythm of my paintings. The city’s geometry and light become both structure and atmosphere, turning ordinary views into emotional landscapes.
You often explore the tension between order and chaos, seriousness and play. How do you find balance between these dualities within your compositions?
I think balance exists only through tension. I work intuitively — letting spontaneity clash with structure, gesture with silence. This dialogue between control and impulse mirrors how we experience life: unstable, layered, yet somehow whole.
Neon palettes and pop-art aesthetics play a central role in your work. What do these vivid colours and bold forms represent for you emotionally or conceptually?
Neon colours for me are metaphors of irony and fragile joy. They speak about the overstimulation of our culture — how pleasure is consumed and repeated. At the same time, they carry a kind of honesty: a bright surface that hides vulnerability underneath.
In your series Path of the New Home, you explore memory, migration, and identity. How have your own experiences of place and movement influenced this body of work?
This series was born from my experience of migration — the process of building a sense of home from fragments of memory and emotion. Each work reflects the dialogue between belonging and displacement. Through architecture, texture, and light, I tried to capture how identity reshapes itself in a new space.
Your ongoing series The Pleasure examines how contemporary culture consumes joy. What inspired you to focus on this theme, and what do you think it reveals about our current moment?
I was intrigued by how happiness has become a product — visual, performative, almost obligatory. The Pleasure uses pop-icons and playful imagery to question this demand for constant positivity. It’s both a celebration and a critique of our collective pursuit of pleasure.
You describe painting as a tactile and conceptual act — an emotional trace rather than a literal image. Could you elaborate on how this philosophy guides your process?
When I paint, I’m not describing reality — I’m translating emotion into texture and rhythm. Each layer is a trace of thought or feeling, a physical record of time and movement. This approach allows the work to remain open, inviting the viewer to complete its meaning.
Texture and layering are essential to your technique. What role does material experimentation play in the emotional impact of your paintings?
Material for me is language. The thickness of paint, the scratch of a knife, or the transparency of a glaze all carry emotional weight. I experiment constantly because every surface holds memory — it’s where gesture and thought meet.
Your work has gained visibility on global art platforms and in digital exhibitions. How do you see the digital art world shaping the way audiences engage with painting today?
Digital platforms have expanded how we share and perceive art, making it more accessible but also more transient. While the tactile quality of painting can’t be fully translated online, these spaces create new dialogues and connections. They turn viewing into participation — a shared act of discovery.
Irony and fragile joy are recurring motifs in your practice. How do you personally navigate the relationship between pleasure and vulnerability, both in life and in art?
For me, pleasure and vulnerability are inseparable — joy always carries a shadow. In art, I try to hold both: the brightness of colour and the quiet anxiety beneath it. This coexistence feels true to how we live today — between celebration and uncertainty.
