10 Questions with Nadia Bedei

Nadia Bedei is a pastel artist whose work explores the interplay of light, texture, and emotion, creating immersive and thought-provoking compositions. Currently based in Buenos Aires, Argentina, she draws inspiration from nature, travel, and cultural narratives, incorporating the rich atmospheres of diverse landscapes into her work.

Her artistic journey is shaped by a deep connection to the natural world and a fascination with the way color and light interact to evoke emotion. Working primarily in soft pastels, she skillfully blends vibrant hues with delicate transitions, allowing her paintings to capture fleeting moments of beauty and introspection. Nadiya actively participates in exhibitions and artistic projects, striving to push the boundaries of pastel as a medium and engage viewers in a dialogue between memory, imagination, and reality.

Her work has been featured in various exhibitions and publications, earning recognition for its ability to transport audiences into spaces where the tangible and the emotional merge. She continues to explore new artistic challenges, always seeking deeper expression and a stronger connection between art and viewer.

@nadiabedei_art

ARTIST STATEMENT

Nadia Bedei’s work is a reflection of her deep appreciation for the beauty and impermanence of the world around us. Through soft pastels, she captures the subtle interplay of light and color, creating atmospheric compositions that evoke introspection and wonder.

Her artistic process is rooted in observation—whether of a shifting sky, a fleeting shadow, or the emotion embedded in a landscape. Travel plays a significant role in her creative vision, allowing her to absorb the essence of different places and translate them onto paper. Each painting is an attempt to bridge the seen and the felt, inviting the viewer to step into a world where reality and memory intertwine.

By exploring themes of transformation, solitude, and the passage of time, her art seeks to establish an emotional connection between the viewer and the scene depicted. She believes in the power of art to transcend words, offering a space for quiet contemplation and personal interpretation. Through her work, she hopes to inspire others to pause, observe, and find their own moments of stillness in the ever-changing world.

INTERVIEW

First of all, what inspired you to pursue a career in art? And how did you become the artist you are today?

The simplest answer to "why art" is that I had no other choice. Art chose me before I even knew what was happening. From childhood, I was mesmerized by colors, the way light danced on surfaces, and how emotions could be captured in a single stroke. Over time, this fascination grew into an undeniable need to create. Life, of course, added its own twists—travel, cultural shifts, and unexpected encounters—but all roads led back to pastel-stained hands and an insatiable desire to tell visual stories.
Becoming the artist I am today has been a journey of trial and error, of wandering through different styles and techniques until I found my own voice. And even now, I believe art is a constant evolution—each painting a new lesson, each challenge a necessary step forward.

Which artists or cultural influences have shaped your style?

I have always been drawn to the works of artists who understand light like a well-kept secret—Turner, Kuindzhi, Sorolla. Their ability to make light breathe on canvas is something I deeply admire. At the same time, I am influenced by the places I've lived and traveled to. The quiet intensity of vast landscapes, the soft melancholy of fading afternoons, the fleeting vibrancy of city lights—these elements all find their way into my work. Argentina, where I am currently based, has also left its mark with its dynamic contrasts, from the sweeping Pampas to the vibrant urban energy of Buenos Aires.

Pastels are your primary medium. What draws you to this medium, and how do you push its boundaries in your artistic practice?

Pastel has the directness of drawing yet the richness of painting, and I love that balance. There is something incredibly tactile about working with pastels; there are no brushes mediating between me and the paper, just pure pigment and my hands.
I experiment with different textures and surfaces, often starting with an underpainting (sometimes in watercolor or eventhinned-down pastel, a technique known as pastel underpainting) to create depth before layering dry pigment. Working on a wet surface allows for unique blending effects, creating unexpected transitions and rich, velvety color shifts. The contrast between soft, blended areas and raw, expressive strokes adds another layer of tension and energy to my work.
I also enjoy incorporating mixed media elements, whether through textured grounds, fixative manipulation, or unconventional layering techniques. I refuse to let pastels be confined to their "delicate" reputation—they can be bold, they can be intense, and they can surprise even the most skeptical observers. To me, pastel is not just a medium; it's an evolving conversation between color, surface, and emotion. And I plan to keep that conversation going for a long time.

You skillfully blend vibrant hues with delicate transitions. How do you decide on the colour palette for each piece, and what role does colour play in evoking emotion?

Color is not just a tool in my work—it is the very foundation of how I construct emotion, atmosphere, and depth. During my university years, Color Theory was one of my greatest passions, not just as an academic subject but as a practical study that shaped my entire artistic approach. I immersed myself in the works of great masters—Turner, Monet, Kuindzhi, Sorolla—artists who understood light and color not just visually but scientifically and emotionally. Their ability to manipulate hues to create movement, luminosity, and depth fascinated me, and I was determined to bring that same level of mastery into my own work.
Every painting begins with a careful analysis of how light interacts with form, how complementary contrasts can create tension, and how subtle temperature shifts can alter the entire mood of an artwork. 
Beyond theory, years of hands-on practice have refined my ability to intuitively sense color relationships, but I still rely on structured underpainting techniques to establish the foundation of a piece. 
For me, color is the emotional heartbeat of a painting. A single hue shift can turn serenity into melancholy, or tension into harmony. Understanding its psychological impact allows me to create works that resonate on a deeper level, where the viewer doesn't just see a scene but feels it. It is this continuous study—both theoretical and practical—that fuels my exploration of color, pushing me to evolve and challenge the limits of what pastels can achieve.

Your work often explores the interplay of light, texture, and emotion, as you mention in your statement. How do you approach creating that balance in your compositions?

For me, light, texture, and emotion are like three voices in the same conversation—each one influencing the others, sometimes whispering, sometimes demanding attention, but always working together to tell a story. Achieving balance between them isn't about strict formulas; it's about intuition, observation, and, occasionally, a bit of trial and error (and a lot of pastel dust).
I always start with light. It's the foundation, the emotional heartbeat of a piece. Whether it's a soft, diffused glow or a sharp contrast between illuminated and shadowed areas, light dictates the mood before anything else. I carefully consider its movement—how it filters through mist, bounces off surfaces, or disappears into the depths of a composition.
Texture comes next, and this is where things get really interesting. I love playing with contrast—letting some areas melt into smooth transitions while others remain raw and expressive. 
And then there's emotion—the intangible, yet essential ingredient. This isn't something I deliberately "add" at the end; it naturally emerges from the dialogue between light and texture. The way colors interact, the softness or intensity of a stroke, the balance between detail and abstraction—all of these elements shape how the viewer experiences the piece. Sometimes, an unfinished edge or a barely-there transition says more than a meticulously rendered detail.
In the end, finding balance isn't about perfect symmetry—it's about creating a sense of presence. I want my paintings to feel alive, as if the light is shifting, the air is moving, and the emotions are waiting to be discovered.

Your art has been exhibited and recognized for its ability to merge the tangible with the emotional. What do you hope viewers experience when they engage with your work?

When viewers engage with my work, I hope they experience a kind of quiet, introspective pause. Maybe it reminds them of a long-forgotten afternoon, the way sunlight once filtered through leaves on a crisp autumn day, or the peaceful stillness of standing alone in nature. I want my paintings to feel like stepping into a familiar yet slightly dreamlike space—a placewhere light, color, and texture gently guide the emotions without demanding immediate answers.
At the same time, I love when viewers find their own meaning in the work. Art, after all, is a two-way conversation. I may start the dialogue with a particular feeling or story in mind, but it's the viewer who finishes it. Their interpretations, memories, and emotional responses breathe new life into each piece, transforming it into something uniquely personal.
Ultimately, I hope my work evokes a sense of connection—to a place, a moment, or even to themselves. If a viewer leaves with a little more wonder or nostalgia than they came with, then I've done my job. 

You actively participate in exhibitions and artistic projects. How do you select the projects or exhibitions you participate in, and how do they influence your practice?

Choosing exhibitions and projects is a bit like choosing travel destinations—some call to you instinctively, while others require careful planning and consideration. I gravitate toward opportunities that align with my artistic vision, where the theme resonates with the emotions and narratives I explore in my work. If an exhibition focuses on light, memory, or the interplay between nature and human perception, chances are, I'm already halfway through drafting my application.
That being said, I also enjoy stepping outside my comfort zone. Some of the most rewarding experiences have come from projects that challenged me to rethink my approach—whether by working with new formats, experimenting with scale, or adapting my pastels to unexpected contexts. Every exhibition is a dialogue, not just between my work and the audience, but between myself and fellow artists. Seeing how others interpret similar themes always pushes me to look at my ownpractice with fresh eyes.
Beyond artistic growth, exhibitions are also about connection. They remind me that while creating art is often a solitary process, its true purpose is to be shared. Whether it's an intimate gallery show or a large-scale international event, each exhibition adds a new layer to my artistic journey—sometimes confirming where I'm headed, other times nudging me in surprising new directions. And that's exactly how I like it.

Memory, imagination, and reality are recurring themes in your work. How do these concepts manifest in your pieces, and what do you hope they communicate to the viewer?

Memory, imagination, and reality—they are like three unruly guests at the same dinner party, constantly interrupting each other, blending together, and making the conversation far more interesting than if they sat quietly in separate corners. In my work, these elements intertwine, creating spaces that feel both familiar and elusive, as if you've been there before but can't quite recall when or how.
I rarely aim for literal representation. Instead, I build scenes that reflect how we remember places rather than how they physically exist. Memory is selective, after all—it smooths out details, intensifies colors, and sometimes even invents new elements to fill in the gaps. I use soft, blurred transitions alongside sharper, more defined areas to mimic the way certain moments stay vivid while others fade. Light, for me, plays a key role in this—how it filters through mist, how it dances on surfaces, how it transforms the mundane into something extraordinary.
Imagination enters the scene naturally, filling in where memory fails. Some of my landscapes may seem real, but they are often composites of different moments, layered emotions, and visual fragments from various places I've experienced or simply dreamed up. I love playing with unexpected color shifts, subtle distortions in perspective, and textures that suggest rather than dictate.
As for reality—well, it serves as the foundation, but I never let it have the final word. I want my paintings to feel grounded, yet open-ended. They are not fixed narratives but invitations—spaces where the viewer's own memories and interpretations take center stage.

Looking ahead, what new artistic challenges are you excited to explore in your future works?

Looking ahead, I'm excited to push my work in new directions, both in technique and concept.
The first exciting challenge is refining my approach to abstraction within landscape. I've always been fascinated by the point where representation dissolves into suggestion, where a scene is no longer just a place but a feeling. How much can be left unsaid while still evoking a strong sense of presence? How far can I push form and texture before the landscape becomes a memory rather than a reality? These are questions I intend to answer—preferably with a lot of pastel dust involved.
I'm also eager to experiment more with mixed media, combining pastels with watercolor underpaintings, ink washes, and textured surfaces to create even more depth and complexity. Pastels are often seen as a standalone medium, but I love the way they interact with other materials, enhancing their luminosity and unpredictability.
And finally, I want to dive deeper into storytelling within my work. My paintings have always carried a sense of narrative, but I'd like to be more intentional about it—perhaps developing a series that follows a thematic journey, exploring the passage of time, shifting light, or the intersection of memory and place.

And lastly, are there any upcoming exhibitions or projects you're working on?

Absolutely! There are several projects in the works that I'm really excited about.
First, there are upcoming exhibitions where I'll be showcasing new works that push my exploration of light and memory even further. I won't spoil all the details just yet, but let's just say there will be landscapes that exist somewhere between reality and dream—places you feel you've been before but can't quite place.
Also I'm continuing my exploration of abstract landscapes, pushing the balance between detail and atmosphere even further. I've always been drawn to that delicate line where a place feels both real and imagined—where light and texture suggest more than they define. 
Lastly, I'm preparing to publish a book that I've been working on for the past couple of years. It's a project close to my heart—one that combines my artistic journey with reflections on light, memory, and the creative process. It's been an intense but rewarding experience, and I'm looking forward to finally sharing it with the world.

Artist’s Talk

Al-Tiba9 Interviews is a promotional platform for artists to articulate their vision and engage them with our diverse readership through a published art dialogue. The artists are interviewed by Mohamed Benhadj, the founder & curator of Al-Tiba9, to highlight their artistic careers and introduce them to the international contemporary art scene across our vast network of museums, galleries, art professionals, art dealers, collectors, and art lovers across the globe.