What does it take to leave behind a high-powered legal career and embrace a calling fuelled by creativity and emotion? For artist Karina Gentinetta the path has been anything but linear. From the passionate capital of Argentina to soulful New Orleans, her story is one of resilience, inspiration, and an unyielding drive to capture life’s raw moments on canvas.
Celebrated globally and featured in Architectural Digest and Elle Decor, Gentinetta’s large abstract works are both deeply emotional and profoundly personal, reflecting the intricate interplay of logic and creativity that defines her life.
In this exclusive interview, she opens up about the pivotal moments that shaped her path, the emotions behind her art, and her vision for what lies ahead.
Your journey from lawyer to artist is extraordinary—was there a single “aha” moment when you knew you had to trade the courtroom for the canvas?
A lot of people ask me that and think there’s a clear sign when it’s time to leave an unfulfilling job or situation to pursue a career you’re truly passionate about. The truth is, for most of us, there isn’t one defining “aha” moment—or at least there wasn’t for me. I spent years wrestling with the inner conflict between what I felt I had to do to earn a living and what I truly loved. I kept hoping for a sign, a perfect set of circumstances that would make the leap easy.
But life rarely works that way. At the time, I was a law partner with a solid salary and benefits, and I had two young children to support. I was the primary breadwinner, which meant my dreams often took a backseat to doing what needed to be done. Then Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans in 2005, leaving me without a home. That made the choice even harder.
It wasn’t until three and a half years later, after rebuilding my home, that things shifted. My father, who was 89 at the time, was dying. He had always seemed immortal to me, but as I sat with him in the hospital, he looked at me and said, “I know I shouldn’t complain—I’ve lived to be 89. But what I wouldn’t give for 20 more years.”
Those words hit me like nothing else ever had. I realized I’d been living as though I had all the time in the world to follow my dreams, but here was my father, who had lived a long and full life, telling me that even that hadn’t been enough. It was a wake-up call. I couldn’t keep waiting for the perfect moment to pursue what I loved. I owed it to myself—and to my children—to live fully and passionately, to show them that life isn’t meant to be endured, but embraced.
I guess, in hindsight, that was my “aha” moment. But let me tell you—it was still terrifying to take that leap. Change is never easy, and stepping into the unknown can be overwhelming. But when I think back to that moment with my father, I’m reminded why it was worth it. Life is too short not to spend it doing what truly matters to you.
Your art is described as emotional. Do you approach each painting with a specific story or feeling in mind, or do they evolve spontaneously?
This one’s easy—they definitely evolve spontaneously! I’m a deeply emotional person, and my art is really just an extension—or maybe better put, a manifestation—of whatever I’m feeling at the moment. Whether it’s joy, sadness, excitement, or frustration, it all finds its way onto the canvas. My husband likes to joke that some of my most emotionally charged pieces were born out of anger, and honestly, he’s not wrong.
Take “A Moment in Time”, for example, a large-scale, 72″x108″, black and white painting. It’s a graphite pencil work that came to life during a very dark moment. In 2021, we were watching on tv the devastating events unfold during the attack on the U.S. embassy in Afghanistan. The chaos in the streets, the heartbreaking images of people trying desperately to evacuate, clinging to the wheels of planes as they took off—it was overwhelming. I was consumed by sadness, anger, and despair, and I channeled all of it onto the canvas.
What emerged was a piece that reflected the confusion and chaos I felt in my heart during that “moment in time,” which became the title of the work. It wasn’t a political statement—I’ve never shared the full story behind its creation until now—but it’s a perfect example of how my art is born. It’s spontaneous, almost therapeutic, and deeply personal. Each piece captures the raw emotions of a specific moment, and I think that’s what gives it life.
You’ve collaborated with RH Modern and caught the eye of collectors worldwide—what’s the most unexpected place you’ve seen one of your works?
That’s a tough question because I don’t always know where my paintings end up! When they sell through the Gallery at 200 Lex (at the New York Design Center) or online on 1stdibs.com, the sales are usually handled by a third party, so I don’t always get to follow their journey.
But of the ones I do know about—because the buyer reached out to me directly—one of my favorites has to be a large piece called Llegada del Futuro (“Arrival of the Future”). It was a commission dedicated to the buyer’s soon-to-be-born daughter and inspired by another painting of mine that had already sold. I shipped it all the way to Aarhus, Denmark, where it now lives in this stunning, 120-year-old estate home that’s been beautifully renovated. Then there’s the one in Bel-Air, California, in the home of Too Faced founder Jerrod Blandino, which was featured in Elle Decor. And the 12-foot commission that now lives in the Manhattan penthouse of interior designer Kelly Behun, showcased in Architectural Digest.
I guess you could say I’m always blown away by where all my works end up. It’s incredibly humbling and such an honor to know that my art resonates with people from so many different walks of life and corners of the world. Honestly, it never stops amazing me!
Growing up in Argentina and relocating to New Orleans must have shaped your worldview—how do these cultural influences show up in your art?
As you know, Buenos Aires, Argentina, is a very European city, with strong French, Italian, Spanish, and British influences. Although I’m Argentine, my grandparents migrated from Italy, and we lived in a swiss-style chalet home while I attended a British school. Talk about cultural influences! Growing up in Argentina gave me a deep appreciation for storytelling, passion, and the importance of strong familial connections—qualities that are central to its culture and often inspire the emotion and movement in my work. On the other hand, New Orleans introduced me to a completely different kind of vibrancy. It’s a city bursting with music, celebration, incredible food, and, of course, Mardi Gras. New Orleans taught me how to blend colors, textures, and meaning in a way that’s rich with emotion. Ultimately, both places have taught me that beauty often comes from contrast—melancholy and joy, chaos and calm—and I think that duality shows up in my art. Whether through color, texture, or subject matter, I’m always drawing from these two worlds that have left such a mark on me.
Cy Twombly and Franz Kline are noted inspirations for you. If you could spend a day in the studio with one of them, what would you hope to learn or discuss?
Oh, how I would love to spend a day in the studio with Cy Twombly—especially in his apartment studio in Rome! (Side note: my daughter’s name is Roma, inspired by what I consider one of the most beautiful cities in the world, so she’ll always be reminded of her own strength and beauty.) Back to Cy…..I think I’d want to just sit quietly in a corner, watching him approach the canvas, trying to understand the emotions driving his gestures and marks. I’d be fascinated to see how he channeled such raw, seemingly chaotic energy into something so deeply expressive. And I’d love to ask him what it felt like to unveil his work—those rebellious, scrawled, and unconventional marks that must have felt so radical at the time. Was he ever afraid? Did he question himself, or was it pure confidence in his vision? There’s something so brave and unfiltered about his work that I’d love to understand on a deeper level.
Do you prefer music or silence when you are creating your art? And if music – what song is currently on repeat?
This is such a fun question! I absolutely play music while painting because the right music has this incredible way of unlocking my creativity and lifting my spirits. Music runs deep in my family. My maternal aunt Carmen and my mom were both opera singers in Argentina—my aunt was a professional opera singer with the permanent ensemble of the Teatro Colón in Buenos Aires, and my mom studied voice at La Scala in Milan. So, I grew up surrounded by opera, with Puccini’s arias being my absolute favorites. As such, Andrea Bocelli is a must on my playlist, and whenever I feel stuck or uninspired, I blast his rendition of Nessun Dorma. There’s something about that aria that helps me let go of any inhibitions I may feel at the moment, and allows me to just pour myself into the canvas.
At the same time, my dad had a deep love for Argentine tangos and would play them on the record player before dinner, often singing along (much to my embarrassment!). Now, though, those memories make me smile. When I want to paint something colorful and light, I’ll put on tangos—especially Por Una Cabeza, which was my dad’s favorite. The song tells the story of a man who falls for a beautiful woman but doesn’t have the money to win her over, so he bets everything on a horse race, only for the horse to lose por una cabeza (by a head). I can still hear my dad singing along, and it always lifts my mood. Those moments inspire me to paint with a sense of warmth and a smile on my face.
To wrap up, what exciting projects or new directions can we look forward to in your art career? Are there any upcoming plans or collaborations you’d like to share?
As an artist—and a classic Type A personality—I’m always looking to push the boundaries of my creativity. Right now, I’m at a point in my artistic journey where I feel ready to take things to the next level and explore new forms of expression. Whether that means experimenting with different materials and mediums, or trying out a completely new style, I want to step away from the familiar. It’s so easy to get comfortable in a particular style or series, but I’ve learned that real growth often happens when we let go of what feels safe and challenge ourselves to venture into the unknown.
For me, embracing change is easier said than done—I tend to resist it! But as my kids spread their wings and take on new challenges in college (which, by the way, is such a bittersweet experience for this mom—just wait until your own kids grow up and leave the house!), I know it’s time for me to spread my wings too. It feels like the right moment to explore new artistic horizons.
While I’ve done well representing myself and have enjoyed the autonomy that comes with it—aside from my work with the Gallery at 200 Lex at the New York Design Center—I’d love to explore representation by prominent galleries in energetic cities like Paris or London. There’s something exciting about the idea of stepping into a broader world of possibilities, and I’m ready to see where this next chapter takes me.
To find out more about Karina Gentinetta visit her website: karinagentinetta.com and follow her Instagram @karina.gentinetta
Lead image courtesy of Cedric Angeles
