In the tender glow of dawn, Michelle Gagliano’s brush weaves the soul of the earth onto canvas. Rooted in the rust-soft hills of western New York, she paints with her grandfather’s vision—nature as divine. With sacred gold and a sustainable heart, her art hums with life, drawing us into its breathless embrace. Let’s begin the interview with this visionary artist.
1. Could you start by telling us a bit about yourself- who you are, where you come from, and what led you to the world of art?
I am an artist who works with sustainable studio processes and materials. I was born in western New York, a rust belt region of America. The landscape is beautiful and bucolic, surrounded by hills, pastures, farms, and farmers, people of the earth co-mingling with Spiritualists, Amish, and the Chautauqua Institution, flooding us with visitors in the summers. The Chautauqua in the background led me to the world of art. A think tank for the arts, globally, artists, writers, musicians, dancers would attend. It is known as a “forum for open discussion of public issues, international relations, literature, and science”. I know it for the exposure to the arts it brought to this farm kid and opening my eyes to diverse world views.
2. Much of your work is deeply connected with nature. What is your earliest memory of feeling inspired by the natural world?
So many of my memories are deeply connected to the landscape- my grandfather was a transcendental farmer and I was his shadow, he would take me with him to the fields and with a sweep of his arm say, “look at that, don’t tell me there isn’t a higher being, it is in the landscape”. He made me visually aware of the beauty and respect for nature. He also told me to never buy plastic, you cannot get rid of it, and I still have that voice within me.
3. You’ve removed all toxic material from your artistic process. Was there a particular moment or realization that prompted this shift?
Yes! In graduate school. The first 3 days were devoted to experts coming in to educate us about studio safety. The entire time was about protecting ourselves from the problems of the toxic art studio. No one offered alternative solutions. None. This began the obsession to educate myself on materials. We are taught all ways of making the voice of the art, but not about the impact of the materials while we are doing so.
4. Gold plays a central role in your paintings. What does gold represent to you beyond its visual beauty?
Gold is sacred to me, metaphor, history, ritual. The “golden hour”, the “golden rule”, “worth its weight in gold”, we bury loved ones in gold. The embedded medieval idea that it was from another universe and fell into the earth. I embrace the ritual aspect of painting. This idea of gold as a base in icon paintings was very evocative to me. I began to start my paintings with the same sacred process. Soon instead of the lower layers, it migrated to the top.
5. Many of your exhibitions engage with literary or philosophical themes. How do you choose the conceptual foundations for a new series?
I believe as an artist I must have my antennae up at all times. We are the canary in the coal mine. When something resonates with me, I will become like a detective to interrogate the ideas in depth to see if they have weight to expand the dialogue. I enjoy research and actively keep sketchbooks adding daily several different conceptual ideas until it is examined fully. I find this to be an effective way to free up all my ideas to investigate.
6. Atmosphere is a strong element in your work. How do you approach building a sense of depth and immersion on canvas?
When building up depth, I think of the concept of chaotic rapture. The tightrope walk of keeping the painting alive with its original enthusiasm and building the layers of depth to give it its own history, its voice.
7. Your art seems to blur the line between painting and experience. How intentional is this effect, and what do you hope viewers feel when standing in front of your work?
The goal is always, always to become breathless.
8. In today’s digital and fast-paced world, what role do you think slow, handcrafted art like yours plays?
AI is a tool, but has no soul. When did slow become a bad thing? The ability for humanity to process life should not be rushed. Slow art is essential for us to make sense of this world. The idea of something created with a heartbeat is to be celebrated. The process of painting is as important as the painting itself. The body cannot be nourished by artificial foods, nor can the soul be nourished by artificial art.
9. Sustainability is central to your practice. How do you see the role of environmentally conscious art evolving in the broader art world today?
The role is evolving as we become more aware and proactive in finding artists who understand the narrative and to create easier systems for museums to lean into. I am optimistic that collectively we are on the cusp of changing our outdated ways of doing business. As creatives, the art world will be leading the way.
10. Finally, is there anything you’d like to share- something you’ve never been asked but wished people would understand about you or your work?
This is shocking, but my babysitter was born in 1897. I was essentially raised by a woman from another century. I bring this up because she was a strong influence on myself as an artist and environmentalist. Becoming sustainable was an easy transition because I learned to live when life wasn’t disposable. She was an activist, writer, farmer, an independent woman who lived by her intelligence. As a child she took me on the tractor and we planted hundreds of trees together, reforesting pastures. Directly learning this stewardship of the land, understanding our role in nature was paramount.
Interview by: Behnam Raeesian
