SARAHCROWN in conversation with Elisa Bertaglia.

Our conversation with Italian artist Elisa Bertaglia leads you into the wonderful world of her unique themes and techniques

SARAHCROWN: Over the years, your work has continually explored thresholds and liminal states. How do you see this theme evolving in your practice today?

ELISA BERTAGLIA: The concept of the threshold is a central theme in my research. Even when I begin projects that seem unrelated, I inevitably discover how deeply they connect to this idea. In the past, the threshold in my work was more clearly defined—often referring to the transition from childhood to adulthood, for example. Over time, however, it has evolved and expanded, becoming less didactic and more nuanced. Today, it appears as an underlying thread within broader philosophical and historical contexts. The threshold has grown to encompass much of my artistic inquiry, branching into new conceptual territories. It remains a source of fascination—something I continuously encounter in what I read, see, and study, and which ultimately finds its way back into my practice through the works I create.

Bu Shi in the studio

SC: Your recent paintings introduce new elements, such as birds and more ornamental motifs. What inspired you to bring these into your visual language?

EB: Recently, I’ve had the opportunity to dedicate significant time to reading. For a while, I’ve wanted to explore more deeply the recent works of a writer I’ve long admired—Han Kang. Her latest book, We Do Not Apart, moved me profoundly; to me, it feels like a complete work, perfect in its own way. These kinds of inspirations are fundamental to my practice, though I want to emphasize that my work is not illustrative. Rather, I find in Han Kang’s poetics and lyricism a shared sensibility—a closeness in themes, perspectives, and concepts—that has been deeply influential in my most recent projects.

In an interview, Han Kang reflects on how Korean culture naturally contemplates life after death and the idea of reincarnation—of transforming into something new and different. This notion of transformation resonates deeply with me and once again brings me back to the theme of the threshold. Han Kang’s mother, for instance, expressed a wish to be reincarnated as a bird. Birds are a symbol of transformation, a bridge between worlds, and an emblem of rebirth and spiritual passage. In We Do Not Apart, two small parrots, Ami and Ama, accompany the protagonist on her journey of growth and renewal. I’ve adopted this symbolic image within my own work, using it as a new element charged with strong symbolism and imaginative power.

Elisa Bertaglia, The Rest, 2025, oil on canvas, 35.5x25.5 in - 90x65 cm, ‍INQUIRE

SC: How do you approach the balance between figuration and abstraction in your work? Do you see yourself moving more toward one or the other?

EB: In the past, I often felt anxious about defining myself in one way or another. During my academic years, I felt pressured to choose a side—as if there were fixed factions or predetermined paths to follow. Over time, I came to reject these rigid divisions and instead embraced the freedom to move fluidly between abstraction and figuration, depending on the narrative needs of each work.

I believe that, over the years, my poetics have become more grounded in certain themes and I gained a distinct visual language, which now allows me to navigate both worlds while keeping all possibilities open. This sense of expressive freedom has been a slow achievement—one that I consciously reclaim and reaffirm with each new body of work.

SC: Nature—dense foliage, imagined fauna, flowering forms—has long been present in your paintings. What role does nature play for you as both subject and metaphor?

EB: Nature is a fascinating concept. While many tend to associate it primarily with the landscape, I see nature as something far broader—an idea that encompasses not only the landscape but also countless other, more intricate and compelling dimensions. Nature can refer to the macrocosm or the microcosm, the plant or animal world, the individual elements within them, or even the relationships we establish with these realms. Its complexity offers infinite connections and possibilities.

In my work, I always aim to keep meaning open, resisting the idea of a single, fixed interpretation. Nature consistently serves as a profound source of symbols. In the current cycle of works presented in the gallery, the piece Occhi della Madonna (Eyes of the Madonna) revolves around the pictorial, almost obsessive repetition of a small blue flower. This plant is tied to my childhood—it grows in the meadows and ditches of Polesine, the region where I was born and raised. There’s a particular symbolism attached to it: the vivid blue of the flower is associated with the eyes of the Virgin Mary. Traditionally, offering this plant to someone far away expresses a wish for the Madonna’s protection to watch over them—her gaze embodied in the delicate blue of the flower itself.

Elisa Bertaglia, Occhi della Madonna, 2025, Oil on 14kt rose gold plate, 6 × 4. in

SC: Your palette has shifted in your latest works. Can you talk about your relationship with color and how it has changed over time?

EB: At the beginning of my research, my approach to color was quite restrained. I tended to work with desaturated hues and softer tonalities, avoiding overly vivid shades. Over time, however, and through the study of artworks from different eras and cultures, my relationship with color has evolved. Gradually, my palette has become bolder—embracing more acidic and saturated tones—while still maintaining a sensitivity to subtle tonal variations within each piece.

Recently, in some of my canvas works, I’ve been captivated by the natural tone of the surface itself. By preparing the canvas with a primer based on traditional sixteenth-century methods, I discovered a background color reminiscent of fine paper—a material I have always been drawn to. I decided to leave this background visible, allowing it to become an integral part of the composition, and in some cases, I chose to work solely or partially with graphite directly on the canvas.

SC: The use of gold plates and reflective surfaces in some of your works creates a baroque, almost precious effect. What draws you to these materials, and how do they expand your visual vocabulary?

EB: I’ve always been deeply interested in exploring different materials and experimenting with new techniques and forms of expression. Recently, rose gold plates became the foundation for a new cycle of works in which I sought a reflective, warm surface to serve as the base for my painting. This exploration led me to study various metals—copper, brass, and aluminum—before ultimately choosing rose gold for its unique luminosity and tone.

The small format of these plates has had a strong influence on my recent works. Their intimate scale required me to paint from a very close distance, encouraging meticulous attention to detail and evoking the sensibility of miniature painting. I wanted each image on these small 6x4-inch surfaces to feel as precious—and perhaps even a bit indulgent—as the material that supports it.

SC: Many viewers remark on the sense of suspension or timelessness in your paintings. Is this atmosphere something you consciously construct, or does it emerge intuitively as you work?

EB: I believe I instinctively seek something that transcends a temporally defined or time-bound action. The influence of Eastern philosophical notions of time and space has had a profound impact on my work, yet I think I have always, in a natural though conscious way, pursued a particular temporal dimension within my practice.

In earlier works such as Hic Sunt Dracones and A Dance, time was characterized by a cyclical rhythm. In this new body of work, however, time feels suspended—almost absent. While it still shares affinities with the temporal sensibilities of my previous series, I see this suspension as a significant point of innovation in my practice. The idea of frozen or arrested time ultimately inspired the title of the series. It was an organic, intuitive process—one that unfolded naturally as the works took shape.

SC: Looking back at earlier series such as Hic Sunt Dracones or The Dance, what do you see as the main shifts or breakthroughs that led to your current direction? 

EB: The Hic Sunt Dracones series had an almost more pop palette. It is a very complete series, but the idea of space and time is more closely linked to an almost literal and didactic interpretation in dialogue with Eastern philosophies. The realization was also almost divided between an abstract compositional structure, which was defined by painting, and a narrative plot drawn through a more realistic style using graphite and charcoal. In these paintings, however, painting and drawing freely and harmoniously interchange roles, there is less separation between the drawn and painted parts, and the painting in turn constructs the common thread of the narrative, with more figurative elements that never seek to be illustrative. 

A Dance is different again, being a series created entirely on rose gold plates. In this cycle, however, the symbolic elements are more subtle, coexisting in a very dense and rich conceptual complexity. 

SC: What is your process like in the studio? Do you begin with drawing, writing, or imagery, or do the works emerge more instinctively on the canvas? 

EB: Usually, a work begins long before I step into the studio. It often takes shape during the phase that follows a sudden spark of inspiration—a period of slow gestation in which I think obsessively about the project I want to develop. I become fully immersed in it, nurturing the idea as it evolves, shifting perspectives, testing possibilities, and allowing it to grow and solidify within me.

When I finally begin the actual making, I don’t rely on sketches or preparatory drawings; I work directly on the chosen surface—whether canvas, paper, or another material. My time in the studio is rarely continuous, interrupted as it often is by the many practical tasks that accompany artistic work: writing emails, phone calls, deadlines, photographing past pieces, reorganizing the space or the archive. Yet I see this rhythm as beneficial—it creates space for new ideas to settle and develop with the calm and focus they require.

Even the process of creation itself is not entirely linear. There are often stretches of time when I need to let a painting rest, to step back and consider how best to resolve it. Finishing a piece is always a matter of making the right choices, mindful that each work is part of a single, broader, and coherent body of research.

SC: As your practice evolves, what questions or ideas are guiding you now? Where do you see your work moving in the near future?

EB: I have exciting ideas for the future and am both deeply enthusiastic and critical about my work. I’m always looking ahead, imagining projects I’ve yet to realize—things I’m not even sure will ever come to fruition. That’s part of the beauty of the process: slowly discovering which ideas are worth pursuing and which aren’t. I’m particularly interested in developing a stronger interaction between the pictorial and sculptural aspects of my work, though I don’t yet know exactly what form that will take.

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ABOUT THE ARTIST

Elisa Bertaglia (b. 1983, Rovigo, Italy) earned her MFA in Painting from the Academy of Fine Arts, Venice in 2009 and her BFA in Painting from the same institution in 2006. She attended multiple artist residencies including Residency Unlimited, Brooklyn (2023); Officine Saffi, Milan (2017); ESKFF at MANA Contemporary, Jersey City (2016); Atipografia, Arzignano (2016); Casa Falconieri, Serdiana (2015); and Dolomiti Contemporanee, Borca di Cadore (2013, 2014).

Her work has been the subject of solo exhibitions at SARAHCROWN, New York; Martina Corbetta Gallery, Giussano; Galerie MZ, Augsburg; Weber & Weber Gallery, Turin; Palazzo Madama, Turin; and Officine dell’Immagine, Milan, among others. Selected group exhibitions include the Guggenheim Museum, Venice; Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, Saitama, Japan; Borges Cultural Center, Buenos Aires; Bronx Museum Gala, New York; CAF Museum of Modern Art, Saitama; Villa Reale, Monza; Atipografia, Arzignano; and numerous international art fairs including Kiaf Seoul, Miart Milan, and Untitled Art Fair, Miami Beach.

Bertaglia’s work is held in public and private collections including The Bronx Museum of the Arts, New York; Eileen S. Kaminsky Family Foundation, Jersey City; Museum of Contemporary Art, Penne; City Archives of Milan; Banca Sistema, Padua; Museo del Parque Foundation, El Milagro, Argentina; and the Cominelli Foundation, Italy.

She has received recognition from institutions such as the Arte Laguna Prize (2021), Exibart Prize (2021), Arteam Prize (2015, 2016, 2017), Pattern Award (2014), and Combat Prize (2013).

Bertaglia currently lives and works in Brooklyn, New York, and has been represented by SARAHCROWN since 2016.