Anna Pepe
- Anna Lilli Garai
- Sep 2
- 4 min read
Anna Pepe is an artist based in Tbilisi, working with painting, drawing, and printmaking. Her large-scale works often bring together faded textures, geometric forms, and abstracted female figures. Inspired by ancient frescoes and everyday observations, she’s interested in how time leaves its mark — on stories, on bodies, on surfaces. Though self-taught, her path has been shaped by years of hands-on learning, from printmaking studios in Italy and Latvia to quiet research in old churches and ruins. Her practice is both personal and open-ended, circling around myths, memory, and the ways women see and hold themselves. Alongside her studio work, she teaches, mentors, and shares what she’s learned with other artists, keeping that exchange part of the process.
Q: Your work often revisits myths through abstraction. What do you think these ancient stories still reveal about women today?
A: For me, myths still carry something about undiscovered feminine power. People often describe it as dark energy or black magic, terms that come with fear because they touch the unknown. Human nature tends to either worship or fear what can’t be fully explained. And in women’s nature, there are still many aspects we are only beginning to demystify. That’s why I see them as hidden treasures to explore in my work.
Also, when I look at my own abstract forms, I realize they are not so far from prehistoric depictions of women — totemic, schematic shapes. I didn’t invent anything new, I simply reuse and reinterpret these forms to highlight the timeless beauty of the feminine.
Q: Your technique recalls weathered plaster and peeling paint. How do you see time itself functioning as a material in your paintings?
A: I think I’m a little afraid of time, and painting this way is how I try to tame it. When I see young trees, for example, I know I’ll never see them fully grown, and that thought stays with me. Ancient people never saw their everyday objects or art aged the way we see them now — changed, layered with new meanings by centuries passing. This sense of not being able to control time pushes me to imitate it in my own way, creating surfaces that look aged, as if they already carry history.
I love how time works like an invisible artist. The peeling walls of Pompeii, for instance, weren’t meant to look that way, yet today we see them as finished artworks. In my paintings, I try to recreate that sense — that art continues to change even when the artist steps away, and time itself becomes part of the creative process.
Q: In "Dialogue" you explore communication between women. What visual decisions let you keep the tension between intimacy and disagreement alive in the piece?
A: For me, this series goes beyond just visual choices, because it’s deeply personal. It comes from my relationship with my former female partner. We’re no longer together, we have separate families, but we’re still connected in a strong, almost sisterly way. That mix of closeness and separation is very complex.
So, instead of chasing one perfect visual formula for connection and disconnection, I let the work become a way to process my own feelings. It’s about how it’s possible to hold such conflicting emotions for the same person: love, distance, attachment, and separation all at once.
Q: You merge strict geometry with fluid curves. What draws you to place control and softness in the same frame?
A: Because it feels like the most precise reflection of female nature. On the surface, women often appear soft and fluid, but inside there’s always a strong steel core. Depending on culture and circumstance, this inner strength is sometimes visible and sometimes hidden, but it’s always there.
Q: In "Muse 05" you shift from ultramarine to black. What questions were you asking yourself in making that transition?
A: Black, as the absence of color, transforms the subject into something like a window to the void. I can definitely say that my most favorite piece of art ever created is Malevich’s "Black Square." Such a simple form painted with only one color gives me a sense of awe and fear. That’s why, apart from other color choices, I always feel attached to this “no-color.” It was a challenge to find the darkest matte black paint that could represent this depth. In this piece, the background becomes more “real” than the figure itself, painted in black. It reflects my fascination with the endless depth of female nature, something close to the dark universe, both beautiful and unknowable.
Q: Alongside your exhibitions, you run workshops and mentoring. How has sharing your process with others shaped the way you approach your own practice?
A: I’m very inspired by the energy exchange that happens when I share my process. Seeing how others understand, interpret, and transform what I show them allows me to look at my own practice from a new angle. It’s a reminder that creativity is never one-directional, it grows when it’s shared.
