Chiara Bruschini
For Chiara Bruschini, art is fundamentally about emotion. Through her works, she expresses her imagination and her inner world. Her photographs, which are blurred, sensual, and feminine, elevate the human anatomy through a play of light and soft-focus effects. Working from her small Parisian apartment, she creates what she calls a “bubble of emotion,” where photography becomes a form of therapy, offering her a sense of freedom through the lens.
What are your biggest inspirations?
When I first started photography, my primary goal was to express my sensitivity. It began quite broadly. I often find that my inspirations revolve around nature. I’m also passionate about art in general. I’ve always loved flipping through art books, visiting museums to feel something. I adore how painters express themselves through blending different elements. When viewing a work, I believe the viewer becomes intertwined with the atmosphere it creates. The idea of timelessness appeals to me greatly. I feel that photographers like Paolo Roversi have achieved timelessness in their work. I love when it’s hard to pinpoint the exact era a photograph was taken. I also enjoy when a viewer is free to let their imagination wander in front of a piece, creating their own story.
When did you have your artistic revelation?
It’s hard to pinpoint… I ask myself that question often! When I was sixteen, my father bought a camera—a very simple one, perfect for a beginner. He didn’t use it much because during our travels, he mostly took pictures with his phone. One day, I asked him if I could take his camera on vacation. I started by taking very simple shots. Another connection I had with photography was during my childhood. I had stolen a small camera from my mother and took pictures in my grandmother’s garden. The photos turned out blurry and very “abstract,” but I loved it.
When I finished my higher education in chemistry and biology, I wasn’t very motivated to continue in that field. I liked what I was doing, but I couldn’t see myself working in a lab for the rest of my life. I wanted to change my environment, to move, to travel. It was my Italian teacher, who also had a passion for photography, who told me about the Institut Supérieur de la Photographie et de la Communication Intégrée in Rome. Without hesitation, I went for an interview and was accepted. I immediately realized that this was what I wanted to do.
What do you think defines an “artist”? Do you consider yourself one?
An artist is, above all, someone passionate. To me, we’re all artists because we all have passions. It’s fundamental—without passion or love, we can’t achieve anything. An artist is also someone with deep emotions, with a lot to express. I do consider myself an artist today. It makes me laugh because every time I go back to Italy, my friends still call me “the artist.” I don’t think I fit the cliché of an artist who dresses a certain way or lives a particular lifestyle. I live a completely normal life, but every time I work, I can express myself freely and show what I feel. Often when I look at my photos, I feel like they don’t turn out exactly as I imagined them in my head, but I know it was the right thing to do at that moment. I manage to set aside my doubts by remembering a phrase a friend once told me: “Whatever you do, do it with love and passion.” It’s a very simple phrase, but it opened my eyes, and I realized that my heart is always right, and I need to follow my instincts. What I sometimes find frustrating as an artist is the need to explain myself and impose my vision on the people I work with. It can be challenging to work with emotions, but on the other hand, I’m always amazed when I hear the opinions of my friends or people outside the art world because they see and understand things I could never have imagined.
Who is your favorite artist?
I have to think… I’m not particularly drawn to specific artists, but rather to artistic ideas. Right now, I’m really into Just Kids by Patti Smith. I love the simplicity with which she expresses herself in that book. Throughout my reading, I couldn’t help but imagine scenes I wanted to photograph. Sometimes it’s not necessarily photography that triggers inspiration. I often find inspiration in poetry, music… If I had to name specific artists, I adore Patti Smith. Her beginnings in New York deeply moved me. I felt a connection to her stories, and I loved the way she recounted her journey as a young girl in a city entirely foreign to her. She had to find odd jobs to survive and feed her dream, and I found myself in a similar situation when I arrived in Paris. I didn’t speak a word of French, and I had to teach Italian to pay my rent before I could fully dedicate myself to photography. In fact, I love finding inspiration in someone’s life rather than in their work.
Have you tried exploring other forms of art besides photography?
I loved drawing when I was younger. I was very interested in human anatomy and would copy anatomical drawings to better understand the human body. My mother painted a lot, and she had a collection of anatomy books. I think that also sparked something in me and nurtured my passion for the living in photography. Muscles, hands, feet… I always pay attention to how I can ennoble these parts through my prints. Speaking of my inspirations, Robert Mapplethorpe is definitely one, with his nude photography. Giacometti and Modigliani also appeal to me because they played with human proportions, exaggerating them to make them more magical and liberating.
Is there a particular work of art that has left a lasting impression on you?
I once visited a Caravaggio exhibition in Rome. I was ten years old and with my mother. I discovered these enormous, theatrical paintings. I also enjoy the slightly “dark” side of art. The artistic moments that most often leave an impression on me are dance performances, ballets… I love watching dancers’ bodies and the theatricality of ballet. The lightness of their clothing, brought to life by movement. I often use very fluid garments in my photos because they are like a continuation of motion. I was fortunate to work with a theater costume designer in Italy who passed on her passion for costume and drama. I was instantly struck by a piece in her workshop that gathered only period costumes used in plays. In that room, there were thousands of stories, hundreds of characters brought to life by these costumes… It’s true nourishment for the imagination!
How do you navigate the Italo-French cultural duality?
This is a profound question, but my immediate response is that it’s a wealth. Duality has always been a strength, though it’s a strength that’s challenging to live with daily. When I arrived in Paris, I was somewhat shocked because, despite Italy and France being so close, there were a lot of differences. Born in a small coastal town, I wasn’t used to living in a big city like Paris. Sometimes, when interacting with the French, I felt there were certain traditions and references they couldn’t understand, and I couldn’t understand theirs. This might sound superficial, but to delve deeper, I find my personal sense of belonging interesting. I’ve been living here for two years, and I feel less Italian and not quite French either. Initially, I asked myself a lot of questions because whenever I was in Paris, I missed Italy, but when I went back, I missed Paris. So, I was very confused emotionally. Paris has given me so much thanks to its multicultural and cosmopolitan nature. I’ve learned things I didn’t know before, and I’ve developed new habits and rituals that I didn’t have in Italy. The distance has weakened that strong connection I once had with my homeland. When I see my Italian friends now, I feel a certain distance because during my time away, I’ve met new people here in Paris who have given me different perspectives, and vice versa. Culturally speaking, I feel enriched because, thanks to Paris, I’ve met friends from all over the world who have shared their cultures and mentalities with me.
Tell me about your dreams… your ambitions…
When I started photography, I did it purely for pleasure, as a form of therapy. With experience, I’ve discovered new photographers like Paolo Roversi, whose work inspired me to come to Paris. I had nothing to lose by trying—at worst, I could return to Italy, and it would have been an experience. I was surprised to realize that I’ve managed to work here for two years already, and I can be proud of myself. Today, I’m gaining more confidence, and I dare to present my work to increasingly experienced people in the industry. My first ambition is to keep my style and ensure that my work always serves as a form of therapy for me. The second is to hold an exhibition of all my recent work here in Paris. I want to show more people my sensitivity and vision through my work. I’m becoming more interested in the idea of traveling more and making connections with other cities like Milan, Berlin, London… That’s also why I decided to get into photography! I prefer to take things slowly and humbly, to discover myself as a person and progress at my own pace because I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I often ask myself introspective questions: Will I still be a photographer in 20 or 30 years? What will my photos look like…? I already notice that my style has evolved a lot since the beginning of my journey, and I realize that the future holds many surprises! Despite the evolutions in my work, certain elements always return in my photos, like this obsession with the body, lightness, blur…
A few words to describe your art?
Magical, nostalgic, introspective…
At the very beginning of my work, I used to take photographs in a studio. It was easier for me to create my own universe within a closed and empty space, one that I could transform according to my vision. There’s a “protective bubble” effect in my work that comforts me greatly. Now that I’ve gained more mastery in my craft, I’d like to venture more outdoors while retaining that magic, but this time exploring still life and landscapes. I want to move this bubble into the world around us and watch it react through my lens.
Which personal projects have touched you the most and remain close to your heart?
Undoubtedly, my most recent works. First, the Pnoe project, which means “vital breath” in Greek, is one of my earliest. In Pnoe, I aimed to create a whirlwind of emotions through the blur in the models’ clothing, their hair, and of course, the quality of the image itself. To me, these elements represent the vital breath—something ethereal and mystical. For this project, I was also inspired by painting and the Renaissance. I believe Pnoe will be a long-term project as I continue to nurture it. Whenever I take a photo that captures this vital breath, I add it to Pnoe. Sentimentally, one of my favorite photos is one of my very first since I began photography. To me, it perfectly represents the idea I had when I created this series. The model in the photo became my best friend, which makes the image especially dear to my heart.
What is your creative process?
I don’t really have a specific method. Everything is driven by emotion. There’s a sense of spontaneity in my work. Lately, I’ve been writing a lot. I sit at a café terrace with my planner, lose myself in my thoughts, and then I write. Simple words, but they inspire me deeply. From those words, I can imagine scenes or future projects to immortalize later. Another method I have is not working. I know that may sound strange, but I find that as an artist, you’re working even when you’re doing nothing. I don’t take photos every day. When I’m not photographing, I walk around, I read, I write, I visit exhibitions. For me, curiosity, inspiration, and taking your time are essential elements of my work. Never force creativity, always follow your emotions.
“Echo is the title of my ongoing project that investigates the native bond that I have with my land. It’s a personal research that founds its roots in my journey using the shells as a symbol of growth and reunification with my origins.”
THEORY: “Echo, the acoustic phenomenon by which a sound, upon encountering an obstacle, bounces and then is heard again at the point where it was emitted. A suggestive phenomenon, especially if the obstacle is far away, in which case the sound will take longer to come back, but giving an even clearer result. Echo is a metaphor: it is the path of life that pushes us towards new horizons, far from our home, from our birthplace. Echo explores new spaces, propagates like the acoustic phenomenon, modulates itself, and then returns to its origins. Echo is the need to set off on an internal search culminating in the achievement of self-realization. It is the path that brings with it all of our most intimate hopes and dreams, preciously enclosed like a treasure inside a shell. Can we feel the call that pushes our bodies to leave for new places following the dance of the sea waves? We land on new lands ready to explore the unknown with the prospect of rediscovering ourselves and what surrounds us, recognizing the importance and protecting the rarity of the treasures we carry with us and those in danger of extinction in the surrounding area.”
Interview - Cristian Tonea
Pictures - Chiara Bruschini @chiara_bruschini_ph
www.chiarabruschini.com