“3 Questions for…” showcases and promotes the work of upcoming artists in the early stages of their careers. This time I would like to share with you the atmospheric works by American Artist Ali Enache.
Ali Enache (b. 1985, Washington, D.C.) is an emerging abstract artist based in Los Angeles, whose work is characterized by its minimalist, textural aesthetic and warm, captivating presence. Her artistic process is defined by a harmonious balance between spontaneity and restraint. With a deep appreciation for the qualities of raw materials, Enache uses diluted acrylics, applied layer by layer onto unprimed canvases. Over time, the fluid washes dissolve into the canvas fibers, forming atmospheric landscapes of feeling that feel both ethereal and grounded, intimate yet expansive.
Her dynamic palettes and marks blend into an expressive visual language that transcends words. Consciously embracing and integrating imperfection into her creative process, she views them as an essential language of depth and nuance. Each painting thus becomes a translation of emotion, a way to capture the fleeting and distill it into something tangible.
Her works invite viewers on a contemplative journey, encouraging them to immerse themselves in the depth of a serene, almost ephemeral world. Ali told me a bit about herself and her work:
What inspired you to become an artist, and how has your artistic expression evolved since then?
I think I’ve always been an artist in some way—it’s just that life took me on a different path for a while. My journey back to painting was more of a remembering than a discovery. It happened during a time of great transformation, when I became a mother and found myself longing for something that felt profoundly me. Painting became an anchor, a way to stay present, to process the intangible, and to express what words never could.
At first my work was raw, intuitive and almost like a release. Over time, as I was balancing art and motherhood, I’ve refined my approach. I’ve learned to embrace the push and pull. I paint in the in-between moments, and in a way, that has shaped my work. I’ve become more intuitive, more willing to let go. My paintings have softened over time, but they’ve also become more intentional—leaning into movement, imperfection, and the beauty of things that are just on the edge of disappearing.
How would you describe your work to someone who has never seen it?
It’s like a memory you can almost touch—soft, layered, atmospheric. I work in washes of color, letting the layers build slowly, almost like sediment settling over time. I love how raw canvas absorbs the watery paint and shows through the gentle texture of the textile. It has an organic, raw quality, like something that’s taken form over time rather than made in an instant.
The forms in my work are often ambiguous—hints of landscapes, distant figures, spaces that feel familiar but never fully materialize. I like that space between presence and absence, where things hover just beyond recognition. It’s less about depicting something concrete and more about evoking a feeling—like recalling a dream that fades as you wake up.
What are you currently working on, and what are your plans for the future? Are there any subjects that you would like to explore further?
Right now, I’m working on a series of paintings on raw linen. There’s something about its texture—the warmth, the way it interacts with paint—that feels really natural to where my work is going. The pigment absorbs subtly, settling into the fibers in unexpected ways, which mirrors the themes I’m drawn to: time, impermanence, the beauty of things shifting and eroding.
Looking ahead, I want to push scale—create larger, more immersive pieces that play with light and space. I’m also really interested in bringing in other natural materials—plaster, raw pigments, even elements of erosion—to further that sense of organic transformation. Ultimately, I think I’m always chasing the same thing: capturing the ephemeral, holding onto something just as it slips away.
Painting became an anchor, a way to stay present, to process the intangible, and to express what words never could.
Ali Enache
