Scholar | Nicole Norrevik — Painting Memory, Light, and the Human Trace

As a third-year Fine Arts student at Marist University in Florence, Nicole Norrevik works across painting and art conservation, two practices that continually shape and refine each other. Her work moves between intimate figurative studies, explorations of emotional states, and the technical precision required in restoration, revealing a painter attentive to how images endure and how they carry feeling across time.

Born in Puerto Rico and now based in Florence, Nicole draws from a wide range of influences: the chiaroscuro of Caravaggio, the gestural energy of contemporary figurative painting, and the quiet moments she observes in everyday life. Her paintings — from early studies of human flaws in Gluttony and Envy to more atmospheric works like Giulia Studying — reflect a commitment to understanding emotion through movement, light, and memory rather than surface detail.

Q&A with Nicole Norrevik

Responses by the artist

How did you first begin making art?

When I was a toddler, my mother painted the walls of my bedroom with nature, barn houses, and animals. At the time she painted murals for restaurants and hospitals, so soon murals began appearing in our home too—mine. Scribbles, shaky handwriting, crayon drawings. I always denied being the “mystery artist,” but I exposed myself by writing the only word I knew: my name.

My mother could never be upset. She had painted on the walls as well. She has always moved between painting, jewelry making, leather work, and sewing. I’ve always admired how she sees the world. Those scribbled murals were the first sign that I would always need to create. She lit a fire in me that would never go out.

Nicole in 2006, nearly two years old, already experimenting with color and paint.

Nicole Norrevik. Portrait of Nicole’s mother, based on an old family photograph. Oil on canvas panel, 2025.

What does a typical day look like for you studying painting and conservation in Florence?

The two fields of painting and conservation work together as a symbiotic relationship in my life. 

As a painter myself, working on ancient paintings gives me a unique, almost intimate, perspective on the work sitting in front of me. I understand the importance of every color used, of every brushstroke placed, and of where our eye is meant to travel along the canvas. At the same time, I have gained a deeper understanding of my own paintings through my conservation work. Will my work survive many years from now? Not only physically but also emotionally. I take notice of the chemical processes that occur as I mix colors, as the pigments set into the fabric and as I apply varnish on a finished piece. Studying both painting and art conservation is an intertwined process that enriches itself with every passing day. I find that studying art restoration has forever altered my artistic path, it has given me new knowledge that I carry with me as I paint every brushstroke on my own works.

Painting in Nicole’s apartment

Which materials or techniques feel most essential to you right now?

I’ve been very interested in finding ways to portray without detail. It is very easy to get lost in the details and believe that realism comes from the perfect portrayal of every aspect. Yet for me, the paintings that I admire the most are often messy and gestural, almost blurry in a way. They feel like a memory, like an experience that you feel but can’t quite pinpoint every detail. I’ve been working on moving in that direction with my paintings by focusing on conveying emotion and soul in ways that feel authentic and lively, not posed or overworked. Oil paint works in harmony with this goal, it allows for blending and movement.

Nicole Norrevik. A Son’s Embrace. Oil on Canvas. 2025

By artist:

“This painting captures the warmth of a loving embrace. The mother in the work had lost her eyesight by this time, allowing her to see her son only through touch, through his warmth and embrace. The creamy blurry background highlights the idea that this moment is a memory, an embrace that can no longer be felt physically but only emotionally. This work is a visual representation of comfort, of the human experience of being simply hugged by a loved one and the tranquility that brings.”

What new ideas or projects are you currently exploring?

As I mature as a person and as an artist, I am so thrilled to see where my journey will take me. I have been playing around with light recently, carefully studying the way colors shift when they drop into shadow or rise into the light.

For a while now, I’ve been focusing on improving my technical skills by working on master copies, still life’s, and studies. I am now feeling inspiration running through my veins, my hands are ready to paint something of my own. I’m hoping to jump back into painting the hidden details of the human experience as I did in high school. Back then, I focused on our flaws and what they could mean literally. Moving forward, I am excited to continue on that path with a more mature hand and refined technique. I aim to continue finding my personal style, to clearly stamp my unique mark on the artistic world.

Nicole Norrevik. Giulia Studying. Oil on Canvas. 2025

Just the other day, I finished this study from life. As I continue to develop my style, I am learning from artists I admire and trying new techniques. I wanted to convey dusk’s ambiance, the blue light that remains as the sun tucks itself into bed. 

It is the time of day when blue and yellow dance together, when lamps bring warmth to the impending darkness and the final breaths of daylight shine blue across the walls. To me, this time of day encapsulates the quiet moments, the time when life temporarily slows down as it transitions into night. The figure quietly studying under the lamplight is finishing her duties of the day, readying herself to move onto the responsibilities of the night.

Which artists or movements have shaped your understanding of painting?

During my high school years, I often explored the beautifully grotesque parts of humanity. I was morbidly intrigued by the dark shadows of who we are, which is precisely what inspired works such as Gluttony and Envy.

While conceptualizing these paintings, I drew heavily from the Baroque artist Caravaggio. He is most known for his use of chiaroscuro — endless shadows and blinding lights — yet what captivated me most was his depiction of what was usually left unseen. The focal points of his compositions were often in direct contradiction to the beauty ideals of his time: decapitated heads, the backsides of animals and humans, subjects that challenged comfort.

The word “Baroque” itself traces back to a term meaning a deformed pearl. Its beauty is grotesque, delicate yet distorted. That world of shadows has always called to me. I aim to explore the areas within us that we are uncomfortable confronting.

I see painting as a way to unearth our hidden organs — the moving, functioning parts of ourselves that we try to ignore. I don’t mean this in a meaninglessly macabre way, but rather as a means to better understand our own humanity.

How do you translate emotion into visual form?

There are minute moments in our lives that are rich in emotion. Moments that, simply by existing, carry endless feelings within them. These moments often last only half a second and are completely invisible to those who are not looking. Yet they are universally recognizable, even to people who aren’t trained to notice them. They are snippets of our human experience.

When I conceptualize paintings, images often appear in my mind immediately—scenes that I feel perfectly capture the emotions I want to convey. As I walk along the streets of Florence, I notice these milliseconds of human moments in every corner of the city. I see them in the mirror when I get ready in the morning. I see them in café windows at dusk. I see them in the small gestures and conversations around the dinner table.

Our human experience, our emotions, are constantly swirling around us in a glittering daze, romantically hiding and revealing themselves to those who meet their gaze. I take these minuscule moments and transfer them onto a canvas.

Every shadow tells a story, asking you to find its meaning in the darkness. Every color dances with you, making you feel its emotions as it spins you around. Every composition holds your gaze and tells you what its narrative is about.

This is my process for portraying emotions. It is not about transforming feelings into visual scenes, but about taking the scenes that already contain emotion and imbuing their essence into the paint on my palette.

Do you see a connection between Liu Shiming’s humanism and your own work?

Liu Shiming’s sculptures often highlight everyday people with sincerity and resilience. Do you find any connection between his humanist perspective and your own approach to portraiture and the human condition?

I find a connection in our reverence for humanity. To highlight the everyday man is to love humans, to love our humanity within our daily lives. In these moments is when our true selves shine, a notion I think we would agree on. I also aim to portray who we are as people, the experiences we live, and the moments that shape us. His strong and beautiful works bring to life human souls, a difficult feat I hope to achieve in my own artistic endeavors.

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Interviewed by: Chirui Cheng

Written by: Chirui Cheng