Jan Melka is a French-American artist whose practice explores the body as a field of tension. On the occasion of Vicenza Oro 2026, she speaks about her work, her relationship with material and poetry, and her collaboration with Peruffo.
How do you think you can fully express yourself?
I express myself between the lines. I am never more myself than when I answer indirectly. In painting, the space where I feel most comfortable is one in which I am felt rather than clearly defined—sensed, guessed, questioned, but never reduced to a single truth. Human beings are far too complex to be fully understood. I am constantly changing, and since I struggle to fully understand myself, I refuse the idea that someone else could completely read or define me. I want to be felt and respected, but not placed in a box or labelled. Creating art is where I feel most at home, because in that space, everything remains possible.
If you had to choose a symbol to represent yourself, what would it be?
A rock. In my work, I am drawn to materials that require tension in my hands and a constant awareness of their weight and density, often more than the image itself. I deconstruct the body in the same way I deconstruct materials, trying to make them do what they are not meant to do. I want to push the boundaries of form and question what is considered stable or complete, emphasising what appears as imperfection, vulnerability, and pain.
If you could subvert the rules, which law would you overturn?
The law of time. I wish I could stop it or accelerate it at will, to give myself space to process emotions and observe time passing without being forced into constant action. Everything moves too fast; answers are expected immediately, as if slowness were a form of misunderstanding or exclusion. I often feel out of sync with others, but I believe this different tempo is also my strength.
What does material represent in your practice?
Material is my starting point. It is where structure emerges and where forms begin. I work with unstable materials—oil that flows too quickly, surfaces that fade or shift—to create tension between control and loss.
There is always a struggle between the form I imagine and what the material allows. I try to capture bodily movement while letting the paint act on its own. I often use large quantities of oil to create luminous, fluid surfaces, and I mix oil with acrylic to introduce friction and unexpected reactions. I like to draw with paint and paint with charcoal, blurring the boundaries between materials and their conventional roles.
Your work questions perception, norms, and the transformation of bodies and images. How does this manifest?
I focus on the human body because it is both deeply familiar and profoundly real, while offering a space where figuration can shift toward abstraction. I see the body as a territory or a map rather than a fixed figure. I am interested in the tension between presence and disappearance, construction and erasure. I do not plan images; the subject emerges gradually through the process. Chance plays a central role, allowing material and gesture to guide the work. I am not seeking anatomical accuracy—I want the body to be felt in motion, unstable, almost phantom-like. The traces left by paint and material allow me to situate myself within this anatomical landscape.
Light Paintings were created for Peruffo’s installation at Vicenza Oro. Could you tell us more about them?
Light introduces an additional layer of movement into my work. Suddenly, the figures come alive and even surprise me. That sense of surprise is essential—I do not want to control everything. I am interested in moments when something external enters the work and reshapes it. I create pieces that think back at me. This is why I chose this medium: everything already exists within me, but I struggle to bring it out, so I need the artwork to reveal what I was trying to express. Light intervenes as an external force, a luminous wave that brings its own interpretation, participates in the process, and helps complete the piece.
How do you approach collaboration?
I love collaborating. I do not see a sharp distinction between working alone in my studio and working with others. In ever project, I need to remain faithful to my intuition—otherwise, it does not work for anyone involved. Collaboration allows me to engage in dialogue, connect with the contemporary world, and step outside my studio cave.
I am particularly drawn to situations shaped by rules, tensions, and multiple intentions, as these constraints are deeply inspiring. I enjoy finding ways to move within and around them. In the studio, I already impose limits on time and materials, so confrontation is always present. Collaboration simply extends this dynamic.
A short-term and a long-term project you would like to pursue.
I have just returned from Brazil, where I spent two months painting and exhibiting in São Paulo. I am still processing that experience while preparing what comes next—and I already feel the urge to leave again.
In the short term, I want to continue developing work in new environments, places where everything must be reinvented and re-appropriated. Creating in unfamiliar contexts deeply stimulates my practice. In the longer term, I would like to spend more time in the United States. I am American through my mother, and exhibiting there feels like a natural next chapter in my work.
Selected exhibitions include: Instituto Alto (São Paulo); Michael Bargo Gallery (New York); The Lobby Tokyo (Tokyo); Galerie Romero Paprocki (Paris); Poush Manifesto (Aubervilliers); Espace 35–37 (Paris); Villa Cléa (Milan); Galerie Sans Titre (Paris); Piazza of the Centre Pompidou (Paris); GSL Gallery (Pantin); Caleta (Mexico City); and Galleria Continua – Les Moulins (Boissy).
Jan Melka @janmelk







