Chiara Smirne: An Inner World
Chiara Smirne is a contemporary painter best known for her surreal urban landscapes and interiors, characterized by a dreamlike atmosphere that evokes mystery and unease. Smirne primarily works with acrylic and oil painting, employing a personalized color palette and deliberately exaggerated or distorted colors to create a sense of estrangement. Her figurative style incorporates abstract and geometric elements, contributes to maintaining a visual tension between reality and abstraction.
How did your creative journey begin?
My creative journey began in childhood, when I first managed to put my imagination onto paper. The passion for drawing and the use of colors became clear early on, but it was around the age of five or six that I started creating “collages.” These were depictions of characters inspired by cartoons or, more often, entirely invented figures. I used these creations not just as artworks, but as tangible elements in the stories I would invent, letting them become the protagonists of imaginary plots that I would direct. I remember how, even then, creativity offered me a form of escape from the frustrations and disharmony I felt with the real world—a role it continued to play for many years.
However, after finishing art school, I chose to enrol at the Catholic University of Milan, pursuing a degree in Literature and Philosophy, despite having long considered attending the Directing programme at DAMS in Bologna. It wasn’t until I was approaching 30 that I picked up my paints again, initially as a way to take a break after some unsatisfying work experiences. That pause turned into a rediscovery of my true path, and I haven’t stopped since. I soon began taking advanced painting courses, first at the Scuola Superiore d’Arte Applicata in Milan, and then at the New Academy of Fine Arts (NABA). Since 2013, painting has also become my profession.
Where do you find inspiration for your work?
I have always been drawn to the dreamlike and the surreal—such atmospheres resonate deeply with my inner world. I still vividly recall the first time I watched David Lynch’s Twin Peaks at the age of 10; I was profoundly captivated by its surreal, mysterious, and somewhat magical atmosphere, as well as the dreamlike quality that permeated the series. From that moment on, Lynch became one of my favourite directors. Similarly, when visiting museums with my parents as a child, I found myself particularly drawn to artists like De Chirico and Magritte, whose works seemed to stand out amongst other masterpieces.
Often, my paintings emerge from a strong inner need to express something I already feel or envision. Sometimes, places in the real world evoke specific emotions, memories, or moods that inspire me scenically. The tumultuous lives of many rock stars have also often inspired my work, stirring in me a sense of affinity and a desire to connect with their inner turmoil.
How has your work evolved over the last few years?
In the early years of painting, I quickly realised I had a preference for non-textured, smooth surfaces, free of visible brushstrokes under the light, yet distinctively painterly, not to be mistaken for a print on canvas. Achieving this technical perfection posed a significant challenge, and it took me a couple of years to reach a point where I felt truly satisfied with the results. It required layering multiple coats of paint with the right consistency to create a surface that was both smooth and rich in contrast, light, and shadow. While I have always adhered to this technique, striving to perfect it over time, I’ve never shied away from experimentation.
In recent years, as my confidence in my technique grew, I felt compelled to push boundaries further. I began focusing more on composition, which had always been a central concern, and sought to combine more detailed, refined sections with spontaneous, immediate elements. I started allowing parts of the painting that worked well after just a few strokes to remain untouched. There has also been an increased emphasis on perspective and geometric abstraction, with the aim of blending realistic and stylised elements harmoniously. This exploration is ongoing, and I feel I still have much ground to cover before I fully achieve what I envision.
What does a typical day in the studio look like for you, and how has your art practice grown or changed?
In truth, I don’t have a typical day. Unless I’m working to a strict deadline, such as completing a series for a gallery by a certain date, my schedule tends to be flexible. I usually find myself more productive in the afternoons and evenings than in the mornings, as my mood tends to improve later in the day. If a day starts badly, or if I feel particularly tired or negative, I tend to stay away from the canvas. In such cases, I focus on activities like selecting relevant art competitions and notable blogs, managing my social media, and, more broadly, everything that enhances the promotion and visibility of my work.
Over the years, I’ve learned that, for me—and likely for many other artists—it doesn’t make sense to force myself into a rigid routine of working a set number of hours every day, as though I were an employee. In the past, there were countless times when I’d get up in the morning and start working, regardless of how I felt, driven by this idea of meeting a minimum number of working hours. But there was never a maximum. It wouldn’t be unusual to find myself at 10 p.m. without having eaten a proper meal. If the day had been productive, I could justify this complete disregard for my own wellbeing. But on less successful days, it would become a vicious cycle—repeating the same task over and over, unable to detach and prioritise the basics, like eating or sleeping.
Nowadays, I try to avoid this dynamic as much as possible. I’ve realised it’s neither healthy nor sustainable, and that respecting your own limits is essential—especially since creativity is inevitably tied to personal wellbeing.
Which experiences have impacted your work as an artist?
There have been numerous experiences and events that have profoundly shaped both my personal and artistic journey. One of the most significant positive experiences was the early recognition I received as an artist, just a couple of years after resuming painting. There were several such moments, but the one that undoubtedly had the greatest impact on my career was winning the Special Gallery Award at an international contemporary art competition in 2012. At the time, I could never have imagined even becoming a finalist, let alone winning. This award was particularly significant because it offered a solo exhibition at the awarding gallery—Cortina Gallery in Milan, renowned for representing internationally acclaimed artists. Beyond the personal satisfaction of receiving this recognition, I fondly recall it for the relationship it fostered; not only did it lead to professional collaboration, but also to a lasting friendship with the gallery owner, which endured for many years.
I could go on at length, as this question invites a detailed response, but to summarise, I can certainly say that even after that event, similar accolades followed, drawing the attention of various prestigious galleries. These moments were all deeply rewarding and provided much-needed motivation. However, it hasn't been solely positive experiences that have influenced my artistic path. The way the world has unfolded in recent years, from the COVID-19 pandemic to the ongoing wars, has inevitably infiltrated my life as an artist. It’s not just the economic downturn that proves problematic; it also deepens a sense of disharmony with the world—something that has always been part of me, as I mentioned when answering the first question.
How has social media impacted your work?
Honestly, social media hasn’t had a significant impact on my creative process. Or at least, not directly, since it has become a common tool for gaining visibility, and you have to give it some attention. However, I generally don’t spend much time on Instagram or Facebook, which has largely fallen out of use compared to Instagram. The only positive aspect for me is the ability to discover things I wouldn’t have otherwise known about. That said, I find that maintaining a professional Instagram profile requires too much time, and I prefer to invest my energy in other, more tangible forms of self-promotion.
Moreover, it seems to me that social media often rewards content that grabs attention quickly, which doesn’t always align with greater artistic quality or depth. That being said, I do acknowledge that many artists successfully use these platforms without compromising the value of their work.
Can you tell us more about the themes you explore in your work?
In my work, I am deeply drawn to exploring themes related to human maladjustment and mental health. These concepts are at the heart of much of what I create, particularly within the context of contemporary society. I see my urban landscapes and interiors as metaphors for the broader, developed world, reflecting the solitude, disorientation, and sense of alienation that many individuals experience today.
Through my paintings, I seek to capture the often unnoticed emotional landscapes that people navigate—those feelings of isolation, unease, and inner conflict. The figures in my work are often solitary, sometimes disproportionately large or seen through apertures like windows, which for me represent the psychological barriers that can both protect and distance us from our surroundings.
I am particularly interested in how modern environments—urban spaces in particular—contribute to a sense of disconnection. My paintings aim to evoke this tension between the internal and external worlds, and the way urbanization can heighten feelings of estrangement. At the same time, I like to leave space for the viewer’s interpretation, allowing them to project their own emotional experiences onto the scene, making the work not just a personal reflection but a shared exploration of what it means to be human in today's world.
IG: @chiarasmirneartist
Website: www.chiarasmirne.com