Who Is Bruna When the Studio Is Quiet?

Bruna Gazzi Costa learned to pay attention long before she learned to paint. It is the skill that organises her days, whether she is seated across from a patient or standing in front of a canvas waiting for something to declare itself.

For years, her life followed a careful rhythm at Barraco Cultural in Porto Alegre, a former candy factory claimed by artists of many kinds. Ceramicists, photographers, fashion designers, illustrators, and architects worked side by side, their routines overlapping in hallways and shared kitchens. Between 2018 and 2022, Costa transformed a single room into a shared space: it functioned simultaneously as a psychology practice and a painting studio. There was no separation between the two. Words spoken in one context often lingered, later reappearing as colour, pressure, or erasure in the other.

The studio itself was designed to shift roles. During the week, it served patients. On weekends, furniture was rearranged, tables cleared, and walls reclaimed for painting. Materials were never fully packed away. Canvases of varying sizes, brushes, and acrylic paints remained close at hand, allowing work to continue during breaks or in longer, uninterrupted sessions. Acrylic paint suited the constraints of a shared room, drying quickly and keeping the air neutral enough to accommodate both practices.

Ideas surface first on paper. Costa produces pencil sketches on whatever surface is available, letting repetition guide which studies move forward, some transfer onto canvas, others onto walls. Inspiration stays visible through reference boards pinned nearby, holding images of Charmaine Olivia’s paintings, scenes from films like Vanilla Sky and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and lines from Rilke, including the instruction to live the questions rather than resolve them.

Time in the studio is deliberately carved out. Her clinical schedule leaves little room for daily painting, so she reserves full days or weekends for long sessions lasting hours. Several paintings usually remain in progress at once. Finishing comes slowly, and older works often stay nearby. Returning to them after a distance or delay sometimes opens a path for small but necessary changes.

Light has shifted her approach. At Barraco Cultural, she worked almost exclusively under artificial illumination. Now she seeks natural light, favouring early mornings when daylight arrives softly. Weekend mornings offer the calm she prefers, though bouts of insomnia occasionally pull her into the studio before sunrise.

Distance is part of how she evaluates a painting. Whenever possible, Costa moves works into larger spaces to view them from farther away or from unexpected angles. Turning a canvas upside down or altering its position interrupts familiarity and exposes relationships that are harder to see up close.

Her paintings avoid clear narratives. Instead, they linger in states of suspension, where feeling and comprehension do not align neatly. Fragmentation, silence, and incompleteness are treated as working conditions rather than problems to be solved. Each canvas becomes a site where unspoken material is allowed to remain unresolved.

If she could choose a future studio, Costa imagines one facing the sea, where shifting light and colour would mark the passage of time. Yet place matters less than proximity. Working alongside other artists, as she did during the pandemic at Barraco Cultural, shaped her sense of continuity and made daily practice sustainable. Stepping out of the isolation of the psychology office and into shared space changed how she worked and how she stayed with the work.

Bruna Gazzi Costa’s studio is not defined by walls or light alone. It is built through repetition, attention, and the willingness to remain with what has not yet settled.

To learn more about Bruna, visit the links below.