Nil & Karin Romano are twin female painters based in Tel Aviv. Creating together with harmony and completing each other, they work primarily with acrylic & oil paint on large canvas surfaces. However, they do not restrict themselves into a particular medium; they also create works using pen or ink on paper. The use of strong and bold colours, together with the dark, surrealistic scenes that they unfold through their paintings capture the viewer’s eye and imagination. For the artists, each work is an opportunity to narrate a story of their inner world.
Their interest revolves around the complexity of human soul and emotions and they communicate these notions through motifs such as chaos, ritualism and nihilism. They explain that such ideas resulted from a long period of depression and, therefore, of isolation from society. As they explain, “being introverts by nature, we found in art a way to communicate our messages to the world”. Their creations are mutual and simultaneous and their style is intense, ritualistic and cult-like, dealing with beliefs and religion, relationships between women, occult, symbolism , queer relationships, magic, as well as with the power of emotions. Romano often use themselves as a reference to create imaginative female characters, something particularly visible through their black and white series of drawings.
1. Your collaboration as twin sisters is fascinating. How does your creative process work in practice—do you divide tasks or work simultaneously on the same canvas?
We do everything together. We’ve experienced life side by side since we were little. We grew up in the same house, in the same room and to this day, we still live in that same room. We’re never apart.
At a younger age, our shared search for something meaningful something to fill the existential void—led us to art. In the beginning, our collaborations were more spontaneous and experimental. We tried designing our own clothes, mostly interesting coats. We quickly realized that we complemented each other both conceptually and technically. One of us would start an idea or a line, and the other would just continue it sometimes without a single word.
We loved the results, and from that point on, we never stopped creating together. Over time, we developed and refined a visual language of our own one that goes beyond spoken words and is deeply connected to our twin-like bond.

Working together on a single painting involves a lot of agreement but also some intense moments of artistic disagreement. These can erupt into real fights: shouting matches, colorful curses (we sometimes feel bad for the neighbors), and general frustration with one another. But eventually, we pull ourselves together and channel that fury into obsessive creation.
When we’re working on large-scale, highly detailed pieces, the process usually starts with a shared sketch an idea we both develop together. To decide on the theme, we throw ideas into the air whatever’s on our minds in that moment and then land on one central concept that excites us and influences every detail in the painting.
After that, we begin sketching directly on the canvas. In color paintings, the choice of palette is critical. Mixing colors to the exact shades we want can be exhausting. We go down to the smallest nuance of a hue, and we don’t begin until we’re both 100% satisfied. Only once the colors are ready do we actually begin painting sprawled out on the floor.
The work begins the moment we wake up and sometimes continues deep into the night—until our flatmate calls out from his room: “If you don’t have mercy on yourselves, at least have mercy on me!”
Large-scale paintings are long, demanding projects. They take serious technique and precision. The more complex pieces can take hundreds of hours and stretch over many weeks.
What defines our work most is that we’re stubborn we refuse to give up on a painting. If something goes wrong, we don’t throw it away and start over. That’s just not how we work. It’s part of the obsession. If we start something, we have to finish it and we have to love it by the end. That takes effort. And a lot of patience.
2. Your art emerges from deeply personal and emotional experiences, including periods of depression and isolation. How has this vulnerability shaped the narratives you explore?
We have been isolated from the outside world for nearly thirteen years. As individuals living with borderline personality disorder, we have been coping with loneliness, depression, and emotional turbulence. Much like us, the figures we paint are cast into a disordered space, lacking any clear rules or boundaries. It is a space of inner storms, of overwhelming emotions that distort every proportion of both body and soul—sometimes to the point of pain.
Yet even the most turbulent tempests of the soul eventually quiet, and from their depths, moments of stillness, tenderness, and vulnerability emerge. We have come to see how years of solitude and isolation from society have infused our art with a longing for human connection. Perhaps this explains why our paintings are filled with figures embracing each other or holding themselves tightly. We definitely consider our art emotionally expressive.
3. Chaos, ritualism, and nihilism are recurring themes in your work. What draws you to these motifs, and how do they help you convey complex inner worlds?
A world without boundaries, rules, or proportion is a world of chaos—a reality that faithfully characterizes our paintings. The architecture of our work often urges people to find some kind of hidden logic or formula. This urge reflects, in our opinion, the human obsession with control, order, and reason. But who’s to say those things truly exist?
In a chaotic and nihilistic reality, our only means of reclaiming a sense of control—even if only for short moments—is through ritual. In nearly all of our paintings, various forms of ritual appear. A ritual might be a mystical connection to the wild and the natural world, or something as simple and intimate as the act of obsessively combing one’s hair, or even taking a shower.
On days when we feel inspired, we are capable of working physically on the canvas for hours and hours—until our fingers swell with pain. This too, for us, is a kind of ritual, an act that helps us tame the soul’s most violent storms.

4. You often reference the occult, magic, and queer identity in your paintings. Do you view your work as a form of visual mythology or emotional storytelling?
Our art is without question an emotional storytelling. The word “mythology” feels too epic for what we do. The figures we create are marginal characters—far from epic and heroic. (though some of them appear as hybrid or demon-like creatures). Another thing that might create a mythological association in our work (especially in our black-and-white drawings) is the presence of occult symbolism and motives of magic and witchcraft.
We are deeply drawn to the world of queer marginal figures—characters who seem to possess some hidden, arcane knowledge about the world. It’s no coincidence that, across centuries and cultures, queer and androgynous figures have often held central roles in spiritual and religious practices. As queer and lesbian artists, we share an emotional bond with such figures and through them we tell the story of our own gender and queer identity.
5. The lack of adherence to rules of proportion and perspective gives your paintings a dreamlike logic. How intentional is this approach, and what does it allow you to express?
The lack of proportions, and the distorted and deceptive dimensionality in our paintings is definitely part of our artistic signature. It might leave the impression of a directionless dreamlike place. In the absence of space, rules and proportions not only do our characters get utterly l lost but also the observer. It’s funny because people would expect to find total freedom in the absence of rules, yet ironically it is precisely in the absence of rules and boundaries that many of our characters seem trapped in their own bodies or lost in space like in an endless dream that has no end or beginning.

6. Ever since we were little girls, we’ve been exploring our femininity and later on our identity as women. That exploration never really stopped—and it shows clearly in our art. In many of our paintings, the central figures are women, feminine men, or androgynous characters.
In our eyes women have always symbolized complexity and power. When we think about our inner struggles and about the loneliness we’ve faced, we also see strength and resilience. Art is just one more way for us to channel that strength, to give it a shape, to make it part of our world in a real, tangible way. That’s also why we frequently use ourselves as references.
Some might call it narcissism or self-love but that’s really missing the point. When we become part of the painting, when we take on these superhero-like personas, we’re actually giving ourselves strength. We’re reminding ourselves that we’ve got what it takes to keep going. In some of our paintings we even depict ourselves nude and physically exposed. For us that’s a powerful statement, because In real life, we’re not always great with words. but on canvas we’re telling the viewer: here’s our soul and body. it’s not just a statement of complete honesty, It’s also about our willingness to take a risk, to be vulnerable and fully exposed.
7. From ink on paper to large scale acrylic and oil works your material choices are varied.how do you chose the medium for each idea or narrative?
It’s a tricky question because the medium we choose is often guided by intuition, by a feeling we can’t always put into words. sometimes we can clearly see in our minds a whole scene in vivid, saturated color and then we’ll use oil or acrylic paints. somethimes we sketch something and instantly know it needs to become a black-and-white ink drawing.
using ink we’re able to dive into obsessive details that include various patterns and forms, and many other tiny elements that demand precision. Maybe you could say that our black-and-white works often reflect moments when we want to fill the space obsessively, almost endlessly, as if nothing can be left out. Color, on the other hand, tends to come when we feel the need to break free to go outside the lines, to distort proportions even further, and let raw, unfiltered emotion take place.

8 you were recently featured in the “kafkaesque”exhibition at Dox alongside icons such as David Lynch & Chapman brothers what was the experience like,and how it influenced your current direction?.
David Lynch is definitely our biggest inspiration! His films have left a lasting artistic mark on us. It was a great honor to exhibit in the same very room with the iconic David Lynch.
The fact that we were invited by the Dox for contemporary art to present alongside artists like Lynch, Jan Švankmajer, Chapman brothers, and other outstanding artists only strengthened what we’ve always known deep down: that our art is relevant, bold, and groundbreaking, despite our young age.we’ve always believed in our art even when some people tried to diminish us or downplay our worth. that never stopped us not even for a moment. The Kafkaesque exhibition at DOX was an incredible experience that increased our appetite to exhibit in top galleries and museums. in a way, a big middle finger to anyone who thought we wouldn’t make it. Or, in other words, as we titled one of our paintings: our revenge will be artistic not personal.






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