Interview with Figurative Painter Jenia Weichsel by Noah Becker

Jenia Weichsel, Paul, oil on linen, 2024

By NOAH BECKER May 14, 2025

Jenia Weichsel is an artist I discovered online and had to reach out to. As I've mentioned before, I tend to get interested in painters that have some kind of relation to my own work - and of course, I've published every kind of artist - but I do love figurative oil painters... Her paintings have that John Currin kind of realer-than-real feeling to them, which is cool. But Weichsel has her own fully developed style, and I find it very strong.

I asked her about her life and work for Whitehot Magazine...
 

NOAH BECKER: What made you transition from aerospace engineering to art?

JENIA WEICHSEL: I transitioned from aerospace engineering to art after years of teaching at the university. My passion for aviation began with my very first flight, from Dushanbe to Moscow. As a child, I was invited into the cockpit by the pilot, and I experienced an overwhelming sense of calm and connection with the plane. It felt alive, and I felt safe, almost as if I were in the womb. It was an extraordinary sensation of movement in a state of complete calm. That magical moment sparked my fascination with aviation and led me to study aerospace engineering.

After completing my studies at Moscow State Aviation University, I worked at the Sukhoi Design Bureau during the post-USSR crisis, where the aerospace industry was struggling. Eventually, I shifted to teaching, but despite the intellectual satisfaction, my curiosity wasn’t fully fulfilled. I began searching for new ways to understand the world, and that’s when I discovered art. The more I explored it, the more I realized that while aviation physically moves us from one place to another, art transports us into invisible realms of the mind.

For me, engineering and art are not so different. Both are about bringing ideas to life and creating new worlds. But art feels more personal and intimate. It starts and ends with the artist’s hands, and that process of solitude is what brings me fulfillment. Art, like aviation, allows me to explore movement and stillness, the seen and unseen. It was in this space that I found my true path.

 Jenia Weichsel, A Game, oil on linen, 2025

How does your technical background influence your painting?

The technical approach is crucial in drawing. In fact, there is a lot of science involved in art. From anatomy, perspective construction, and canvas preparation (which I handle entirely myself), to mixing various oils and solvents, and even the physics of light reflection between paint layers. Technical experience helps answer the question of "how?". This is especially important when exploring new paths or learning something new. But there is also another, darker side to this habit of precision—perfectionism, which I struggle with greatly. It significantly slows down my work. I wish I could let my mind run free. However, I believe this will come with time and practice. The more I train myself, the more I trust my hands and eyes.

Does your personal history shape your portraits?

Growing up amidst turmoil, I learned to read people like maps, understanding that every line, every feature, tells a story that often remains unspoken. My life has been a series of upheavals—escaping civil war, becoming a refugee, witnessing the collapse of the USSR and its aftermath, teaching at university, and becoming a mother. These experiences have shown me that every person carries a unique history, and that history is etched in their face. Every emotion, every struggle, every moment of joy or sorrow leaves its mark—whether it’s a clenched jaw, a softened gaze, or the deep furrows in the brow.

I am deeply fascinated by the process of transformation—the way pivotal moments in life shape and change us, leaving traces on our physical selves. To me, portraits are not just representations of people; they are reflections of their journey, their emotions, their choices. My history shapes my approach to painting: I see individuals as dynamic beings, molded by time and experience, their past written into every line and contour of their features. In my work, I try to capture these subtle imprints, as if uncovering a story that lives within the person, waiting to be seen.

Jenia Weichsel, Self-portrait, oil on linen, silk, 2022

What draws you to theatrical elements in portraiture?

I grew up immersed in Russian literature—Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Bulgakov—and these works profoundly shaped my worldview. The emotional depth and complexity of the characters left a lasting impression. One of my favorite quotes comes from Chekhov: "If there’s a gun hanging on the wall in the first act, it must fire in the second." This idea of anticipation and significance has always resonated with me and influences my portraiture.

In my work, every detail is deliberate. I see the background as a stage, where elements like shadows, folds of fabric, or out-of-focus objects reveal something about the subject. These details are as crucial as the subject’s face, adding context or reflecting hidden emotions.

For me, theatricality in art is about creating quiet drama—not overwhelming the viewer, but building subtle tension, like a scene frozen in time. It’s visual storytelling that mirrors the emotional weight of literature and theater. Like a playwright using silences to build tension, I use small gestures—the tilt of a head, a raised brow—to carry as much weight as a direct expression. I want the viewer to feel as though they've stepped into a living, breathing story, where every portrait is an embodiment of emotion.

Why does the sfumato technique resonate with you?

In my portraits, I often think of capturing a person not just as they are in a single moment, but as a composite of the years that have shaped them. It’s as though I’m layering multiple portraits—representations of different stages of their life—into one. Each layer reflects a transformation, the emotions, the decisions, and the events that have sculpted their identity over time. It’s about recognizing how the past continues to live within the present, how it’s carried in the face, even as time moves forward. In this way, my paintings are not just about one moment, but the entire evolution of a person’s existence—an ongoing process of change and reflection.

Art introduced me to the beauty of the undefined. Sfumato is about complex transitions, where light fades into shadow, where strength and vulnerability coexist. It’s not about drastically altering the face, but about gradually enhancing its features while preserving a sense of fluidity. It’s movement within stillness—a subtle dance of light and shadow that captures the essence of life itself.

Jenia Weichsel, Opening, oil on canvas, 2024

How do you use color to enhance emotion?

Color, for me, is the clothing of an idea, the vehicle for emotion. I don’t always start with color in mind; often, it’s something that reveals itself later in the process. The right color, then, is what completes the portrait, bringing it to a more vivid and nuanced expression.

I’m drawn to bold, vibrant colors—those that speak with energy. Yet, some colors—like blue—feel too weightless to me, often appearing as a default in portraits. But colors like yellow, full of life and dynamism, or purple, full of tension and passive aggression,  often remained underexplored in the history of portraiture. They’re difficult to work with, perhaps because of their intensity or their ability to disrupt traditional tonal palettes. The best examples of these two colors in portraiture are probably yellow in Van Gogh’s portraits. I love how John Currin used yellow in “Pellettiere” work. Purple in Francis Bacon’s portraits is magnetic, hypnotizing. 

These artists have shown me how colors like yellow and purple can be more than just visual elements; they can be emotional catalysts that deepen the viewer’s connection to the subject. But I believe the true potential of these colors in portraiture has yet to be fully explored. There is so much untapped emotion in these hues, and I’m interested in experimenting with their capacity to transform the emotional depth of a portrait. 

Jenia Weichsel, World News, pencil on paper, 2025

How has your online presence impacted your career?

The internet has been both a gift and a curse for me. It allowed me to reach a global audience—I established warm relationships with collectors in England, Kazakhstan, Italy, Saudi Arabia, and South Korea, in some places I've never even visited. Instagram, in particular, has been a fantastic platform for an artist. Especially during the COVID pandemic, it was literally the only chance to be seen. But it also amplified the risks.

In 2022, when Russia’s war with Ukraine began, I created a complex piece titled Spring for Putin. The work referenced historical symbols to comment on the modern manipulation of power. It was my way of processing the war and reflecting on the Pandora's Box effect that the conflict could imply. The backlash was swift and overwhelming. Within a day of posting on Instagram, my account was banned. Threats flooded in, and the cycle continued—each complaint followed by another removal of my work until my account became completely invisible.

The irony was that both sides—Russian and Ukrainian—disliked the work. The internet has undeniably become the new "fifth power," replacing print newspapers and television. While offering a platform, it also showed me how quickly it can silence voices that challenge or provoke.

What makes someone a compelling subject to paint?

I’m drawn to the contradictions people carry—the tension between what they choose to express and what they conceal. It’s in that space, the delicate gap between what’s shown and what’s hidden, that I find the most intrigue. I search for those subtle clues—the fleeting shift in a person’s expression or the small, telling gesture—that hint at a deeper, untold story.

When I encounter something I can't fully explain, it ignites my curiosity, and I become instinctively obsessed with exploring that subject.

I’m also captivated by allegory, finding meaning in the ordinary. I seek out animals or objects and imbue them with character, transforming something as simple as a perfume bottle, a toothbrush, or a clove of garlic into the focal point of my narrative.

What do you hope viewers take from your work?

That's a trick question. I hope it inspires viewers to see the world and themselves through a different lens. At the end of the day, we are all human; we experience the same emotions, going through similar experiences. What makes us different is our perception of what’s happening. And my works are just one example of that.

Jenia Weichsel, Not Done, pencil on paper, 2024

What themes or techniques do you want to explore next?

There are two main directions I am eager to continue developing.

The first is a series of portraits that depict the same scene, but with each one evolving morphologically. This would explore the theme of transformation and how memory and experience shape us over time. I’m still refining the idea, but I believe it will offer a deep exploration of change.

The second direction is sculpture. I truly believe sculpture is a game-changing medium, and I’m excited by the possibilities of combining sculpture with painting. I’ve started experimenting with this in a series called Matryoshka, where I use the same piece of wood and shape it in various ways to create multiple frames, evoking the idea of the nested Russian dolls. This concept has been quite successful so far, and I’m eager to push it further.

Additionally, I’m considering working on large-scale drawings, using contemporary media to replace traditional paper. I’m intrigued by how new materials can influence the process and outcome of drawing.

Honestly, I have many ideas, but I want to continue deepening my current work before moving onto the next. The process of exploration and refinement is key for me. WM