Corinne Korda



For me, the magic of painting starts right from the beginning. I feel excited and alive when preparing a new project, grateful when able to buy lavish supplies and maybe more happy to choose a frame for a finished painting than a dress for myself. But more than all this, I feel present while wielding the brush, more “in the moment” than at any other occasion. Even if of course there are frustrating episodes, they are more than made up for by the instants of pure, exhilarating joy, making me want to sing and dance during the process.

A painting is a concentrated piece of time, of lively energy, of the most human essence. Even when looking at a 500-year old painting, you can sense some of this energy. That is what makes viewing originals such a unique experience, as opposed to looking at reproductions.






Having a family and working full time made these occasions even more precious. When not taking classes or working by myself, I went to see every art museum I possibly could (way over 150 in the past 20 years), both at home and during every journey I made and read hundreds of books related to art, technique and art history.

I tried out a lot of different paints and mediums and learned how to frame and hang artworks.

Everything seemed to start falling into place, but then my husband fell ill and passed away two years later. During (and even a long time after) this difficult period, I was mostly unable to paint. Now I am all the more grateful for every moment I can spend painting again, every class I was able to take and all the newly found joy art gives me today.

If my paintings allow me to share and convey some of this joy, then the journey has been well worth it.