In the Studio with Kiama Lisani

Born on the bright west coast of Australia and now based in the historic heart of Brussels, Lisani paints life with an infectious, sensory warmth. Her vivid canvases elevate the quiet magic of everyday domesticity, sprawling tablescapes, overflowing pasta bowls, vibrant aperitifs, and the lingering, messy joy of a long dinner party with friends, into whimsical, larger-than-life dreamscapes.

Having first picked up a paintbrush at just seven years old, Lisani approaches her practice with a rare blend of painterly nostalgia and playful intuition. Her work manages to sit comfortably at the intersection of classical still life and modern surrealism, capturing not just a scene, but a distinct feeling of comfort, connection, and lived-in nostalgia. 

We caught up with the artist to chat about the courage of starting over, navigating artistic trends, her favorite hidden corners of Belgium, and the enduring power of shared meals.
Let’s get into it.

You made the shift from Australia’s west coast to the heart of Europe. How did transplanting your life to Brussels reshape your creative perspective and your decision to commit wholeheartedly to your practice?

Moving from Perth to Brussels completely changed my perspective on what was possible for me. There is something really exciting about starting over somewhere completely unfamiliar. You suddenly feel like you can become a different version of yourself and create a life from scratch.

Before moving here, being an artist was more of a dream for me. I always wanted to do it, but I wasn't sure if I could actually make it work as a career. Moving to Brussels gave me this feeling of, “Why not just give it a proper try?” There are so many artists and creative people here, and being surrounded by that made me feel like my own dreams weren't so unrealistic after all.

It also opened me up to so many new experiences. I was suddenly travelling more, seeing different exhibitions, eating different food and meeting people from all over the world. All of those things naturally started finding their way into my work.

Having first engaged with oil paints at the age of seven, what tactile memory or sensory feeling from those early easel experiences still lingers in your studio today?

I think mostly just the feeling of playing with paint. I remember how exciting it was to mix colours and put something down on the canvas and suddenly see it become something.

When you're seven, you don't really care if something is “good” or whether anyone else is going to like it. You're just making things because you enjoy it. I think that feeling has stayed with me. Even now, I try to keep that sense of play in my studio and not take everything too seriously.

And of course, the smell of oil paint is still very familiar to me. I think if I smell it anywhere, I immediately feel like I'm back in the studio.

Still life and tablescapes carry centuries of domestic artistic tradition. How do you approach subverting these classical motifs to give them a modern, playful, and contemporary narrative?

I don't really think about it too much while I'm painting. I'm just naturally drawn to everyday things like food, flowers, tables and little moments at home.

I like taking something very ordinary and making it feel a little bit exaggerated or surreal through the colours and composition. I might paint a bowl of pasta or a glass of wine, but make it much bigger, brighter or more dramatic than it would actually look in real life.

I think there is something funny about treating something as simple as a dinner table like it's this very important classical scene. I enjoy that contrast.

In a digital landscape saturated with fleeting aesthetic trends, how do you protect your artistic voice and anchor your practice in quiet, personal intuition?

I try not to think too much about trends. Of course I see them, especially because I'm on social media all the time, but I don't want to make work just because I think it will perform well online.

Usually my paintings start with a feeling. It might be a memory I've had, something I've experienced, or sometimes just a scene I imagine and wish I could experience. Once I know the feeling I want to capture, everything else tends to come from that.

I also think it's really important to step away from your phone sometimes. When I'm feeling uninspired, I like going for long walks, visiting galleries, cooking, reading or going vintage shopping. I find that giving myself some space is usually much more helpful than trying to force an idea.

Shared food, tablescapes, and aperitifs feature prominently in your work. What is it about culinary culture that makes it such a resonant vessel for memory and human connection?

I just really love food! I love cooking it, eating it, looking at it and especially sharing it with people.

Food is also so connected to memories. You can eat something years later and suddenly remember exactly where you were or who you were with. I think everyone has those little food memories from childhood or from travelling.

And I love what happens around food too. You sit down for dinner and suddenly three hours have passed because nobody wants to leave. Someone opens another bottle of wine, there's a big mess on the table, and you realise you're having a really lovely night. 

Those are the moments I like to paint. Not necessarily the big occasions, but the little moments that you wish you could keep forever.

Your use of colour is emotionally charged and vibrant. Do you approach your colour stories with deliberate, architectural planning, or do you allow the hues to dictate themselves in the moment?

Definitely a mixture of both. Usually I have a feeling or an atmosphere in mind before I start, and that will often give me an idea of the colours I want to use.

But once I start painting, I tend to be quite instinctive. I'll put one colour down and then realise another colour needs to be brighter, or something needs to be completely different from what I originally planned.

I think colour is one of the most important parts of my work because it can completely change how a scene feels. I can take the same idea and make it feel happy, nostalgic, summery or even a little strange just by changing the colours.

What continues to inspire you?

Honestly, pretty much everything. Food, flowers, travelling, movies, music, interiors, vintage shops, architecture and just things I see when I'm walking around.

I'm also very inspired by nostalgia. Sometimes I paint things that I actually remember, but other times I paint scenes that never happened. I really like creating these imaginary memories that hopefully feel familiar to someone looking at them.

What does an ideal studio day in Brussels look like for you, from the morning espresso to the evening wind-down?

I'm definitely a slow morning person. I like having a coffee and writing in my diary before I start working. It helps me get all the random thoughts out of my head.

Then I'll usually go for a walk or do some kind of exercise before getting into the studio. Once I'm painting, I can completely lose track of time. I normally have music playing and there's usually a huge mess everywhere.

I'll probably take a break at some point to make lunch or go and get a coffee, and then hopefully I'll stop working at a reasonable hour… although that doesn't always happen.
In the evening I love cooking with my husband. We both really enjoy food, so making dinner together is probably my favourite way to switch off.

Given how central dining is to your visual narrative, if you were hosting an intimate dinner party for three creative minds, past or present, who would join you at the table, and what would the menu look like?

This is such a difficult question! I think I'd invite David Hockney, Patti Smith and Fernando Botero. I feel like that would be a pretty interesting dinner.

I'd definitely want it to be quite relaxed rather than fancy. I'd start with oysters and drinks, then have a big bowl of pasta in the middle of the table, probably something with tomatoes or seafood. Then lots of salad, bread and butter, and something really indulgent for dessert.

There would be lots of flowers and candles, and I'd probably spend way too much time setting the table.

How do your travels alter the light, texture, and mood of your work? Has a particular destination recently inspired a shift in your artistic direction?

Travel definitely changes the way I see colour. Growing up in Perth, I was surrounded by so much sunshine and bright colour, so I think that's always been part of my work.

Living in Europe has introduced me to a completely different kind of light and atmosphere. I was really inspired after travelling around Greece, where everything felt very sun-faded and warm.. the buildings, the water, the food, everything.

I often come back from a trip wanting to paint that feeling. Even when I'm back in Brussels in the middle of winter, I find myself painting scenes that feel like summer. I think it's my way of escaping somewhere for a little while.

Beyond your own canvas, what types of objects, handcrafted pieces, or textures do you collect to turn your personal living space into a sanctuary?

I love vintage ceramics, glassware, old books, vinyl, flowers and little objects that I find when I'm out shopping. Though I try not to collect too much as I know one day I'll be returning back to Australia and won't be able to take everything with me!

I'm not really interested in everything matching or looking perfect either. I prefer when a home feels like it's been collected over time. I like having things around me that remind me of places I've been or people I've met.

Your canvases are full of vibrant food and drink, Aperol, pasta, melting butter, oysters. What is your ultimate, go-to comforting meal when you’ve had a long, exhausting week in the studio?

Definitely pasta and a biiig salad. There is nothing better.

Ideally I'd make it with my husband, put some music on, open a bottle of wine and sit at the table for a few hours. That pretty much solves everything.

European cities each have their own soul. What is your favourite hidden corner or café in Brussels where you go to simply people-watch and let your mind wander?

We actually live on top of a really cool cafe. It sits on the corner of 2 main roads and the people watching is always great, no matter the time of day! There are always so many different kinds of people passing through, and I find it really nice to just sit there and observe everything.

I also love wandering around the Marolles, especially because there are so many vintage and antique shops. I can easily spend an entire afternoon exploring there.

I think I actually get some of my best ideas when I'm not actively trying to think about work.

You paint moments that feel like cherished memories, a lingering aperitif or the end of a long night. What was a recent evening with loved ones that felt so magical you wanted to pause time and bottle it up?

I've realised that my favourite evenings are usually the really simple ones.
Recently my husband and I have been making a little ritual out of choosing a recipe we want to try, going to the market to buy everything, and then spending the afternoon cooking together. Sometimes we'll invite friends over, and sometimes it's just the two of us.

One evening recently, we had friends over and ended up sitting around the table for hours after we'd finished eating. There was wine, music, candles and a completely messy table by the end of it.

Nothing particularly special happened, but it was one of those evenings where you suddenly think, “I wish I could stay in this moment forever.” Those are the moments I want my paintings to feel like.

What would be your top 3 recommendations for someone visiting Brussels for a long weekend?

1. 1. Wander around the Marolles. I love getting lost in the little streets, looking through the vintage shops and visiting the flea market at Place du Jeu de Balle. It's probably one of my favourite areas in Brussels.
   
2. 2. Visit the Musee Magritte! One of the greatest surrealist painters of all time and he was from Brussels. They have such a great display of his work, I've been more times than I can count on my fingers now I think! He's one of my favourite and most influential artists.
   
3. 3. Eat everything. Belgian fries, waffles, chocolate, cheese, mussels, oysters, beers, whatever you see that looks good. Brussels has such a mix of cultures and food, and I think eating your way around the city is one of the best ways to experience it.

Lisani’s art reminds us that magic rarely lives in grand, dramatic events, instead, it thrives in the lingering moments around a dinner table, the scent of fresh oil paint, and the warm glow of evening candlelight. By taking life’s simplest pleasures and treating them with rich colour and cinematic flair, she invites us to slow down, savour our surroundings, and appreciate the beauty inherent in ordinary moments.

Whether she is capturing the sun-bleached atmosphere of a recent trip to Greece or painting an imaginary summer afternoon from a rainy studio in Brussels, her work remains a masterclass in staying true to personal intuition. As Lisani continues to build her vibrant sanctuary in Europe while holding onto her sunlit Australian roots, one thing is certain: her visual feast is only just getting started.

Image credit: Kiama Lisani