Interview with Ana Sneeringer
Ana, your work vividly captures the essence of the female experience across diverse cultural contexts. Could you describe how living in countries with such varied cultural norms like Jordan, Russia, and the Netherlands has influenced your portrayal of women in your art? What specific elements from these cultures do you find recurring in your work, whether in symbolism, color, or emotion?
Each country had such a big influence on me. I have never imagined that this life I lived in these countries would once appear in my art. I really never imaged I will once be an artist either. But life wanted this for me, and I became a self-thought painter within me living in these several countries I lived in since 2010. I started painting my life from these countries. By observing my work, you will see a lot of fashionable expression in it. From clothes to architecture and interior, lately as well. Subtitle elements as scarves, and covered shoulders has a lot to do with importance of modesty I experienced in these cultures, but mostly from India. I lived in India the longest. My world life tour started in Jordan, which had been very short stay for me. I am sure it does have some hidden influence in my art as well, but not the one that I could pinpoint down. Russia had been a country of toughness with an amazing tremendous abundance of beauty and sharpness, which is shown is sturdy gazes of my women. Experiences from the Netherlands would fall into directness of my women. The bold, blunt yet very calm demeanor of my women is I am sure coming from the Dutch people I had a privilege to live with.
Prior to your art career, you directed an environmental television station. How does your background in documentary journalism influence your approach to art? Do you see parallels between crafting a documentary narrative and constructing a visual narrative on canvas?
As a director and producer of a local TV station in Slovenia, I had to do a lot of research prior working on a documentary film. I loved working with individuals who appeared in my shows. I noticed that I was very much interested in the phycological aspect of person who I was working with at given moment. This is what is very much transitioned into my now work as a painter. As phycology plays a big role in me understanding the humans I also love researching emotions and meaning of the poses of my women and the objects that appear in my art, prior me painting. And yes, indeed, it does feel building the narrative in the painting is the same as recoding a documentary. Editing the frame by the frame in video is the same as sliding brush stroke by brush stroke over the canvas to compose the perfect story.
You are a self-taught artist, which is a remarkable journey. Can you walk us through your creative process? How do you decide on the themes, colors, and scale of your paintings? What challenges have you faced in teaching yourself oil painting techniques, and how have you overcome them?
As a self-taught artist, my creative process is so rooted in my personal experiences and the themes I’ve been drawn to throughout my life, particularly the strength and resilience of women. I often draw the themes from the diverse cultures I've lived in—having moved through nine different countries in my life (Slovenia, Germany, Jordan, France, Russia, The Dominican Republic, India and now USA), I have a unique perspective on how women express strength in various contexts. Next to female strength, resilience, and empowerment, I often reflect my experiences in my work next to the inspiring women I've met over the years. This is my reminder what will happen on the canvas while is still empty. As I have this base I start my paintings very intuitively, together with the emotion I want to bring in the painting. At the beginning I know how will painting look but when I start painting this vision vanishes, and I paint as I feel. I add and delete the objects if they don’t feel right to be part of the work. It’s very complex thought process in my head that is happening while I paint. I get frustrated many times – so I have to step away to reevaluate the work itself. I wish I could work from sketches. But when I do sketch for certain painting my brain refuses to paint them on the canvas. It feels like I have already done the painting if I did the sketch prior and doing two the same things just doesn’t do the dance I want in my work.
I like assigning the colors to my women while I paint - as I see them and want to bring their character with balancing strength and softness through color. I love using bold and vibrant colors to reflect the inner power of women, while softer tones hint at the nuances of their vulnerability and tenderness.
Scale is very important to me—when I want to capture the magnitude of a woman’s strength, I tend to work on larger canvases. I often envision the women in my paintings as larger-than-life, as they are the embodiment of strength and determination. I love everything bigger then 48 inch. But then I have this opposite approach to my work where I want to paint small, 5x7 inch – this gives me an opportunity to bring you, a viewer closer, more into intimate way to observe my work.
As for the technical side, teaching myself oil painting was a challenge at first, particularly understanding how to control the medium’s drying time and the layering of paint. It took a lot of experimentation, patience, and learning from mistakes to know these techniques. Over time, I learned how to manipulate oils to achieve the textures I want to convey. I’ve come to love oil painting because it allows me to work with layers, which parallels the complexity of the female experience that I aim to capture in my work.
The biggest challenge I faced was simply trusting the process and having the confidence to experiment. Overcoming the fear of imperfection was key for me, as it allowed me to embrace the journey of growth and learning, both artistically and personally.
In your statement, you mention that your art is a response to your inner calling and reflections on women’s rights and empowerment. How do you balance the global perspective of femininity with the specific, sometimes harsh realities that women face in different parts of the world? How do you ensure your art respects and amplifies their voices without appropriating their experiences?
I explore the strength and resilience of women, particularly in how they navigate societal expectations and challenges. Balancing a global perspective of femininity with the specific realities women face in different parts of the world is a personal responsibility very serious to me. Having lived in different countries, I’ve witnessed firsthand the common threads of strength that unite women globally, as well as the unique challenges they face in different cultural contexts.
One way I ensure that my art respects and amplifies the voices of women without appropriating their experiences is by focusing on universal emotions and qualities, such as resilience, courage, and the ability to persevere despite adversity. These are themes that transcend geographical and cultural boundaries. While I draw inspiration from the women I meet, I ensure that their stories are portrayed through my personal lens and experience rather than directly telling their stories for them. I aim to be a vessel for their spirit, not a voice speaking on their behalf. This is crucial in maintaining the integrity of their experiences. As well my focus is on celebrating the strength of women in a way that honors their diversity. I work hard to avoid clichés or generalized portrayals of femininity. For example, when I painted After the life Game, I wasn’t just depicting a woman overcoming a challenge—I was showing how a woman’s dream, determination, and softness can coexist, whether she’s navigating harsh conditions or simply living her truth. It’s about capturing the full spectrum of who women are, in all their complexity.
Cultural sensitivity is always top of mind for me. My goal is to create a dialogue that honors the experiences of women globally, not to speak for them. By focusing on the emotions and strengths that I can relate to, I ensure my art remains respectful, empowering, and authentic. The directness and pragmatism I’ve absorbed from all these cultures, also help keep me grounded in my approach—allowing the women in my art to speak through their expressions and presence without over-explaining or embellishing their stories.
My hope is that each viewer finds their own connection to the work and sees their reflection or the reflection of someone they admire in the women I paint. The universal quality of resilience ties us all together, even in our vastly different experiences.
Innovation is key in any creative field. Could you share an instance where an experimental technique or concept did not turn out as you had hoped? What did you learn from that experience, and how did it shape your subsequent artworks?
Oh, I’ve definitely had my share of "experimental oops" moments. Especially when I started working with oils in 2022. Before I worked with acrylic and watercolor. Oils are such a complex medium to work with if you don’t really know how to approach them. Some of paintings were just so weird. I would be adding layers after layers to try to achieve the texture just to figure it out that the paint didn’t dry the way I wanted. In my head, it was going to be this bold, tactile representation of strength—but in reality, the paint didn’t dry the way I expected, and the whole thing turned into a bit of a gloopy mess! Instead of the textured empowerment I envisioned, it looked like the woman in the painting was sinking into quicksand.
What I learned from that experience is that sometimes, less is more—especially when you’re experimenting with new techniques. It reminded me that while pushing boundaries is important, so is understanding the materials and letting them do what they do best.
That failed experiment also taught me to embrace imperfections and setbacks as part of the process. It’s all a learning curve, and I’ve since incorporated subtler texture and layering into my work, using it to enhance the emotional depth of my subjects rather than overpower them. Now, I’m more thoughtful about how I approach experimentation—always open to trying new things, but with a clearer understanding of when to step back and let the art breathe.
Since your work has been exhibited worldwide and you’ve been recognized in prestigious publications, how do you handle the critique that comes with such visibility? Is there a piece of feedback that profoundly altered the way you approach your art?
Funny enough that you are the second person ever asking me this question direct. I had never had anyone critique my work, which I question why. Is it because I don’t have academic background? Is it because of my work is not valuable enough to be discussed? Based only on these two questions you can see that the artist biggest critique is the artist itself. And I am no different from other artists. How I handle self-critique? I chew on it for a little bit and then I get over it by continuing to create. I always strive to be better in my profession. I bet that would be the same if I would have someone to critique my work from the art world. Though now I wonder if I’ve just invited people to start chewing on my art too.
Color is central to your art, often used to project the strength and emotions of your subjects. Could you elaborate on your choice of palette? How do you use color to communicate the internal landscapes of the women you portray?
My main color are black and white. They focus on the woman face. In natural world these two colors are the strongest when we want to bring the message out. And as I want to bring my message out too, I started using them from the day I started focusing on painting a figure.
But yes, color plays a huge role in my work, especially in portraying the strength and emotional depth of the women I paint. My palette choices are very intentional—I use bold, vibrant colors to reflect the power and resilience within each woman, and softer tones to show their vulnerability and inner complexity. It’s all about balance.
The colors I choose aren’t just decorative—they’re like a window into the emotions and inner worlds of the women I portray. A fiery red might hint at passion or defiance, while deep blues and purples can suggest introspection or calm. Each color adds a layer of meaning, helping to tell the story of these women’s internal landscapes.
Having lived and worked in so many different countries, how has each place shaped your artistic identity? Can you identify specific aspects of your style that were influenced by your experiences in a particular location?
Living in all these countries has had a massive impact on my artistic identity. Each place has added a new layer to my perspective, shaping not only my themes but also the way I approach color, form, and storytelling.
For instance, my time in The Hague, Netherlands, gave me a deep appreciation for the Dutch culture’s directness and pragmatism, which has definitely influenced the clarity and boldness in my work. The landscape of each country finds a way into my paintings. The women I paint often reflect this straightforwardness, balanced with softness and grace.
India, on the other hand, brought me face-to-face with stories of courage. The observation and living in India itself influenced my understanding of strength - the struggles and triumphs of women.
Each place adds a new perspective to my palette, composition, and subject matter, but at the core, it’s always about the shared strength of women. Living like this was the richest knowledge and it have given me a global perspective that connects all the unique stories I’ve experienced.
Your paintings not only depict women but often seem to celebrate their empowerment and individuality. How do you hope your artworks impact the viewers, particularly young women? What do you want them to take away from your depictions of strength and resilience?
I hope that when viewers, especially young women, see my paintings, they feel empowered and inspired to embrace their own strength and individuality. My art is about celebrating women as they are—complex, resilient, and powerful in their uniqueness. I want young women to see themselves reflected in the stories I tell through my work, to recognize that strength comes in many forms, and that it's okay to be both tough and vulnerable.
What I really hope they take away is the message that they can define their own path. Whether it's the determination or the quiet resilience I capture, I want them to feel that their dreams and ambitions are valid, no matter the obstacles they face.
Ultimately, I hope my art serves as a reminder that they are capable of greatness, just as they are. If they walk away feeling a little more confident in their skin, then I’ve done my job.
Looking forward, how do you envision the evolution of your art practice? Are there new themes or mediums you are eager to explore? What kind of legacy do you hope to leave through your artworks, and what do you want future generations to remember about your contributions to the art world?
I see my art continuing to evolve as I explore new ways to express the strength and resilience of women. I’m definitely open to expanding my themes to dive deeper into the complexities of female identity and perhaps tackle topics like motherhood, aging, and even women’s relationships with the environment. I want to keep telling stories that resonate globally but also challenge me to grow as an artist.
In terms of mediums, I’m excited to experiment more with mixed media— but as of now I love working with oils and I am sure this is where I will stay for some time. But I really don’t know. I might change direction very soon. I will let my intuition guide me on that path.
As for my legacy, I hope my work is remembered for celebrating women in all their forms—strong, vulnerable, fierce, and soft. I want future generations to see my art as a testament to the power and beauty of womanhood, and how it transcends cultural and geographical boundaries. More than anything, I want women to look at my work and feel empowered to embrace their own stories, to be unapologetically themselves, and to know that their strength and resilience are valuable beyond measure. If I can leave behind that message, then I’ll consider my contributions to the art world a success.
