Inside the Studio: Eva March
- Art Dealer Street

- 5 days ago
- 10 min read
Updated: 4 days ago
Eva March paints from a place that does not ask to be fully explained too soon.
Her work begins with intuition, color, and the unconscious. Rather than approaching the canvas with a fixed destination, March allows the painting to unfold through feeling, movement, and discovery. In her practice, color is not simply a visual element. It is energy, emotion, memory, and a force that guides the work from within.
Moving between figuration and abstraction, March’s paintings often keep the human body present, even as it dissolves into rhythm, color, and symbolic form. The figure becomes less about representation and more about presence — a way to explore identity, transformation, vulnerability, and the invisible forces that shape human experience.
Her artistic language is deeply connected to nature, which she sees not only as a subject but as an intelligence and a source of power. Through her “Power of Nature” series and her use of natural pigments, March creates paintings that feel alive in both material and spirit.
In this week’s Inside the Studio, Eva March reflects on painting from the unconscious, the return of the human figure, the intelligence of color, her relationship with natural pigments, her recent exhibition at Alessandro Berni Gallery in New York, and the hidden emotional truths she hopes her paintings can reveal.

Read on to learn more in an exclusive interview with Eva March:
You describe your painting as something "born from the unconscious." When you begin a canvas, what are you trying not to know too soon?
When I begin a painting, I try not to know too much too soon. If I approach the canvas with a clear and predetermined destination, I feel that I limit the possibilities of discovery. For me, painting is not the execution of an idea; it is an exploration. The most exciting moments occur when the work reveals something I did not consciously intend, when it takes me beyond what I thought I knew.
This process begins with color. Color is a living force and often the first language through which the painting speaks to me. The colors I choose are not calculated according to theories or systems. They arise from intuition, from my emotional state, and from a deeper, less rational part of myself. In many ways, they come from the unconscious. Once the first color is placed on the canvas, it creates a dialogue that naturally leads to the next choice. A harmony develops organically, guided by feeling rather than by intellectual construction.
Throughout my career, I have never been interested in a purely academic approach to color. While technique is important, I have always trusted spontaneity and instinct. One of my teachers at the Beaux-Arts in Paris once told me that drawing can always be learned, but a true sensitivity to color is a gift. Ans he said “You have this gift”. That remark stayed with me because color has always felt less like a tool and more like an energy that moves through the work.
What I am trying not to know too soon is the final meaning of the painting. I want to leave space for the unexpected, for symbols, emotions, and connections to emerge naturally. The unconscious often understands things before the conscious mind does. As I paint, forms appear, disappear, and transform, gradually revealing a deeper reality. In that sense, the painting becomes a process of making the invisible visible. My role is not to control every aspect of the journey, but to remain attentive, receptive, and willing to follow where the work wants to go.

Your work lives between figuration and abstraction, but it never fully abandons the body. What keeps the human figure returning, even when it begins to dissolve into color, rhythm, and energy?
It is true that in many of my recent works, particularly those presented at Alessandro Berni Gallery, the human figure continues to emerge within compositions that are largely abstract. This is why I often describe my approach as “abstract figuration.” Even when forms dissolve into color, movement, and energy, traces of the body remain present. The human figure keeps returning because it is one of the most universal elements of our experience. We live through our bodies; they are our connection to the world, to nature, and to one another. In that sense, the body is not separate from nature—it is nature. For me, it becomes a symbol of life itself, carrying emotion, memory, vulnerability, and transformation. My long practice of drawing and painting from live models has also left a profound imprint on my artistic language. Years of observing the human form trained my eye and created a lasting visual memory that continues to surface naturally in my work. Yet I am not interested in representing the body realistically. As it dissolves into abstraction, it becomes something more universal—less an individual person than an energy, a presence, or a state of being. What interests me is precisely this threshold where figuration begins to disappear but never entirely vanishes. In that space, the body becomes a bridge between the visible and the invisible, between the material world and the emotional or spiritual dimensions that painting can reveal.

You speak about color as a living force rather than a decorative choice. When a color "imposes itself" on you, how do you know whether to follow it, resist it, or let it disturb the painting?
For me, color is never a decorative choice; it is the primary energy of the painting. When a color imposes itself, it does not come from a rational decision but from intuition. It emerges from a deeper place, connected to emotion, memory, and the unconscious. Over the years, I have learned to trust this inner response rather than analyze it. I do not usually ask whether I should follow or resist a color. Instead, I try to understand what it brings to the painting. Sometimes it creates harmony; sometimes it introduces tension. Both are necessary. A painting that is too harmonious can lose its vitality, while an unexpected color can open new possibilities and reveal something hidden. If a color truly does not belong, I recognize it immediately. It is a visual and instinctive certainty rather than an intellectual judgment. The painting itself tells me. In the end, color has its own intelligence and guides the creative process. My role is to remain attentive and receptive, allowing the work to evolve naturally while maintaining the balance between freedom and intention.
Your idea of Power Nature suggests that nature is not a subject, but an intelligence. In a world increasingly shaped by technology, speed, and disconnection, what do you think painting can still teach us about being alive?
Indeed, in a world driven by technological advancement and speed, painting is regaining its true significance. Why? Simply because it allows the eye and the mind to reconnect with the reality of an invisible power; gazing at a painting sends signals to the brain, thereby elevating the human spirit. This connection enables individuals to rise spiritually and move closer to Alpha energies—which is why painting is reclaiming its true power today. Unlike contemporary art installations—which often lack recognizable form and are overly conceptual—painting that expresses the POWER OF NATURE allows us to reconnect with what is essential and remain truly alive.
There is a strong tension in your work between control and surrender. How much of a painting belongs to your technique, and how much belongs to something you cannot fully control?
The part of the painting that escapes my control begins the moment I decide to trust the creative process itself. When I start a work, I may choose a palette, a direction, or an underlying intention, but the painting often leads me somewhere unexpected. Shapes, symbols, and visual connections can emerge spontaneously on the canvas without being consciously planned. When they appear, I pay attention to them and decide whether to develop and integrate them into the work.For me, painting is a constant dialogue between intention and discovery. Technique provides the structure: the choice of materials, colors, composition, and the experience accumulated over years of practice. Yet there is also an intuitive dimension that cannot be entirely predicted or controlled. It is a space where emotion, memory, and unconscious impulses can find expression.Rather than opposing control and surrender, I see them as complementary forces. A painting comes alive when these two energies coexist. The artist guides the process, but must also remain open to surprise. Ultimately, every work reflects not only technical decisions but also a particular state of mind, making each painting a unique encounter between mastery and the unknown.
Your early work explored the body, femininity, and the nude before moving toward a more symbolic and energetic visual language. What did abstraction allow you to say that figuration could not?
At the beginning of my artistic journey, I spent many years studying and painting from live models, particularly the female figure. This practice gave me a strong technical foundation and a deeper understanding of the human body as a vehicle for expression. Yet even in those early figurative works, I was never interested in simple representation. Through color and composition, I sought to transform reality rather than reproduce it. The figures became emotional landscapes, shaped by sensations and inner perceptions rather than by what the eye could objectively see.
In many ways, my work already existed in a space between figuration and abstraction. Over time, abstraction became a natural evolution. It offered me a greater sense of freedom and allowed me to move beyond the visible world to explore energy, emotion, memory, and the unseen forces that connect us. While figuration speaks through recognizable forms, abstraction enables me to suggest what cannot easily be named or described. It opens a door to the invisible, making tangible what is felt rather than seen.

You use natural pigments and materials you prepare yourself, almost like a form of pictorial alchemy. What changes in the painting when the material feels alive in your hands?
I recently began working with natural pigments, and this discovery has profoundly transformed my relationship with painting. These materials bring a unique depth, luminosity, and transparency that are difficult to achieve with conventional paints. Preparing my own pigments and colors has become an essential part of my creative process. In a way, it feels like a form of alchemy—transforming raw elements into something capable of carrying emotion, energy, and meaning.
Beyond painting, I have always loved cooking, and I find a similar pleasure in creating colors. Mixing pigments, experimenting with textures, and developing my own recipes allows me to enter the artwork long before the first brushstroke is applied. When the material feels alive in my hands, the painting becomes more intuitive and organic. It invites unexpected discoveries and often leads me in directions I could not have anticipated. I also cherish the idea that each color mixture is unique—a personal signature that cannot be exactly replicated, making every painting a truly singular experience.

You recently exhibited at Alessandro Berni Gallery in New York. What stayed with you most from that experience — the space, the audience, the city, or the way your work was received?
This was my second time exhibiting in New York, but this experience felt particularly special because it took place in Chelsea, at Alessandro Berni Gallery, an exceptional space located among some of the city’s most influential galleries. Seeing my work presented in an environment so dedicated to contemporary painting was both inspiring and rewarding. What stayed with me most was the enthusiastic response from visitors. I received many positive comments about my paintings, which gave me confidence and encouragement to continue pursuing this artistic path. My work, which often moves toward abstraction, seems to resonate with the vibrant energy of New York—a city defined by creativity, diversity, and freedom of expression. I also had the opportunity to meet remarkable people from different backgrounds whose perspectives enriched my understanding of my own work and reinforced my desire to keep evolving as an artist. New York has a unique creative intensity, and I hope to continue exhibiting there, in dialogue with its audiences and within the extraordinary cultural environment that makes the city so inspiring.

Some of your works touch on masks, identity, inner transformation, and the space between the private self and the social self. What do you think people hide from the world, and what do you hope your paintings reveal?
It is true that many of my paintings explore themes related to identity, transformation, and the relationship between the individual and society. I believe that people often hide their vulnerabilities, fears, and deepest emotions behind social roles, expectations, or protective masks. In a world that constantly encourages performance and conformity, it can be difficult to remain connected to one’s authentic self.
Through my work, I seek to create a space where these hidden dimensions can emerge and be recognized. My paintings are not intended to provide answers, but rather to invite reflection and awareness. They often address issues that I consider essential for humanity and for the preservation of both human life and nature, which is reflected in my “Power of Nature” series.
Ultimately, I hope my art reminds viewers of the values that sustain us all—love, empathy, freedom, and respect for the living world—so that these vital energies can continue to circulate and inspire positive transformation.
Some of your works touch on masks, identity, inner transformation, and the space between the private self and the social self. What do you think people hide from the world, and what do you hope your paintings reveal?
It is true that many of my paintings explore themes related to identity, transformation, and the relationship between the individual and society. I believe that people often hide their vulnerabilities, fears, and deepest emotions behind social roles, expectations, or protective masks. In a world that constantly encourages performance and conformity, it can be difficult to remain connected to one’s authentic self.
Through my work, I seek to create a space where these hidden dimensions can emerge and be recognized. My paintings are not intended to provide answers, but rather to invite reflection and awareness. They often address issues that I consider essential for humanity and for the preservation of both human life and nature, which is reflected in my “Power of Nature” series.
Ultimately, I hope my art reminds viewers of the values that sustain us all—love, empathy, freedom, and respect for the living world—so that these vital energies can continue to circulate and inspire positive transformation.

Eva March’s work begins with color, but it does not remain only on the surface of the canvas.
Her paintings move through emotion, instinct, memory, and transformation. They ask us to look at the human figure not as something fixed, but as something living, shifting, and connected to forces larger than the self.
What makes her practice compelling is the way it holds two energies at once: control and surrender. The hand of the artist is present, shaped by years of technique and observation, but so is the unknown. Forms appear, dissolve, and return. Color leads the way. Nature becomes intelligence. The body becomes a bridge between the visible and the invisible.
Through her use of natural pigments, symbolic imagery, and intuitive abstraction, March creates paintings that feel deeply personal while also reaching toward something universal. Her work reminds us that painting can still slow us down, reconnect us with feeling, and open a space for hidden truths to emerge.
And perhaps that is the quiet force of her paintings: they do not ask us to understand everything immediately. They ask us to remain open, attentive, and willing to feel what cannot always be explained.
You can learn more about Eva March and her work via these links: Website: Eva March Instagram: @evamarchpeintre






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