Rachel Frison on art, identity, and everything in between

There is a quiet intensity in Rachele Frison’s paintings—an emotional precision that unfolds slowly, revealing layers of symbolism, ritual, and memory. Her work doesn’t aim to dazzle at first glance; instead, it lingers. With roots in drawing, a deep connection to folklore, and a fascination with archetypal storytelling, Frison constructs visual narratives that feel both timeless and deeply personal.

 

What drew me to Rachele’s practice is the way she approaches myth and childhood—not as escapism, but as a tool for reflection. Her figures are never passive; they carry sticks like wands, hair like roots, and often inhabit spaces that are charged with ambiguity. Her forest is not a backdrop but a protagonist—a living, sacred space that challenges the viewer to consider the parts of nature and self we no longer know how to face.

 

In this conversation, we speak about the origins of her fascination with fairy tales, the role of drawing in her creative process, and how her work connects across cultural boundaries. What emerges is a portrait of an artist who listens closely—to stories, to images, and to the silence between them.

Your work is deeply rooted in fairy tales and folklore. Was there a particular story or image from childhood that sparked this lifelong fascination?

 

Yes, my work has always been influenced by the fascination of fairy tales and folkloric elements. If I had to pinpoint the beginning of this interest, I would definitely attribute it to a collection of small storybooks from World War II that my grandmother gave me. They were pocket-sized, time-worn stories in which human dramas emerged in all their aspects, set in environments surrounded by magical words and actions.

Later, I developed a deep love for One Thousand and One Nights, in which I found similarities with the Italian novella The Tale of Tales. From that point on, I became interested in the recurring patterns within fairy tales—those that could be found in Italian, Persian, or Chinese stories. Many fairy tales, as Vladimir Propp states in his famous work Morphology of the Folktale, follow very similar structures that unfold in almost the same way across different parts of the world. This is what I find fascinating, beyond the sense of familiarity and resonance that a fairy tale can evoke in us.

 

You describe the forest in your paintings as 'enchanted' and 'ritualistic.' What does the forest symbolize for you personally?

 

The forest and the woods resonate with me as places filled with sacredness—environments where humans can still confront a nature that remains untamed and not entirely bent to their will. Throughout human history, the forest has always played a fundamental role in symbolizing the unconscious and the wildest part of ourselves, so much so that it has given life to countless narratives that have survived through the centuries.

 

Drawing plays a foundational role in your practice. How does the act of drawing differ emotionally or spiritually from painting for you?

 

The act of drawing represents my comfort zone. I have always drawn and have always given great importance to drawing because within it, we can find the seeds of every artist’s ideas. It is the first tool we all engage with and use to communicate. Furthermore, drawing has always been something I have studied and refined with great care. I feel more confident with this language, and it makes me feel braver.

Your compositions often feel like stills from a dream. Do your ideas come more from memory, imagination, or actual dreams?

 

Yes, exactly. I want my paintings to feel like scenes that the viewer is experiencing in that very moment. They come from images that feel familiar to me, whether they originate from research, my imagination, or sometimes even from dreams themselves.

 

Many of your figures evoke a sense of primal femininity. Do you see your work as a kind of visual mythology for womanhood?

 

I would say that my figures aim to be primal in their relationship with nature and the surrounding space. I want to depict femininity that is non-sexualized and spontaneous, almost unripe in its physicality—figures that can appear as everything and nothing at the same time. I like that they can sometimes seem ambiguous.

 

You’ve exhibited internationally in China, Denmark, and Italy. How do audiences in different countries respond to your work? Do you notice any shifts in interpretation?

 

In the various countries where I have had the pleasure  exhibiting my work, I have been struck by how the images could resonate with different cultures just as I intended them to. I strive to create imagery that doesn’t have to be inaccessible—quite the opposite. Even though my paintings often tell specific stories, I like that everyone can recognize them as ancient tales and that something within them feels familiar.

 

How do you build a visual language that feels timeless yet deeply personal? Are there any symbols or motifs you return to again and again?

 

Yes, absolutely! The repetition of symbols and specific characteristics is the key to my paintings. It’s as if I have a collection of props that I sometimes revisit after years of not using them. The wooden sticks that my characters wield like magic wands, the trees, and the moons are recurring symbols—just like the lengths of hair that at times resemble tree roots. Without these elements and their repetition, it wouldn’t be easy for me to create these imaginary worlds!

 

If your paintings could speak, what kind of stories would they whisper to the viewer?

 

If my paintings could speak, I think they would tell the story of people—the story of what humans have believed in, through the objects they have created and in which they have placed their hopes and rituals. They would speak of a direct connection with nature, neither malevolent nor benevolent, and of the many facets of being human—beings with the ability to create stories.

About the artist 


Rachele Frison (b. 1995) is an emerging Italian artist based in Milan. A graduate of the Brera Academy of Fine Arts (2023), her practice is rooted in drawing, which continues to inform the structure and texture of her oil paintings. Frison’s work draws heavily from folklore, fairy tales, and art history—blending mythic symbolism with a contemporary visual language. Her compositions are intimate and dreamlike, often inhabited by ambiguous feminine figures and ritualistic natural elements.

She has participated in group exhibitions in Switzerland, Italy, China, and Denmark.
Follow her on Instagram: @rachelefrison

 

 

Interview by

Irina RusinovichCurator, founder HAZEGALLERY