Dinara Pavlović - Honest Conversation With Something Deeper Within Ourselves

Multidisciplinary artist Dinara Pavlović invites us into a world where art is not a choice but a necessity, a language her body and inner silence speak fluently. Pavlović uncovers, listens, and responds, often in solitude, often in motion.

What inner need drives you to express yourself through multiple forms of art instead of just one?

• I don’t choose multiple forms of art on purpose: it’s more like they choose me, depending on what I need to express. Some feelings or ideas are too big, too raw, or too layered to fit into just one form. Sometimes a movement says what words can’t. Sometimes an image captures a silence that performance can’t hold. It’s almost like each medium lets me access a different part of myself. I follow where the emotion or intuition takes me, and it rarely leads to just one path. Expressing myself this way feels more honest, more whole.

performance "Voices" during the exhibition "NUances" in Budva

When you begin a new work, do you feel more like you’re discovering something from within or creating a completely new world?

• When I start something new, it usually feels like I’m discovering something that was already inside me. Almost like I’m uncovering pieces of an idea that were just waiting to be found. It’s not always fully formed, but there’s usually a feeling or a spark that I recognize, like, “Oh, this is what I’ve been trying to say or explore. But as I keep going, it does start to feel like I’m building something new around that discovery, giving it shape, creating a world for it to live in. So it’s a bit of both: it begins with something internal, something I’m digging out, and then it turns into something new that I’m shaping as I go.

performance "Love and words" during the exhibition "Diary of emotions"

exhibition "Phantom objects" where presented performance "Awakening" and double-sided work "Purawarnia"

How do your body, your thoughts shape the different mediums you work with painting, video, and performance?

• My body and my thoughts are where everything starts. They shape how I feel the world and how I respond to it through art. In performance, I use my body like a voice when words aren’t enough. Every movement comes from something real: tension, joy, memory, pain. In video, my thoughts take over more looping, layering, creating little worlds where time feels different. Painting is where I slow down. It’s more intimate, like listening to myself in silence. Each medium lets me speak in a different way, depending on what’s alive in me at that moment in my body and in my mind.

What meaning does your art hold in silence or solitude?

• In silence or when I’m alone, my art feels the most real. There’s no pressure to explain, no one to perform for: just me, my thoughts, and whatever’s trying to come through. That quiet space lets things rise to the surface that I might ignore in the noise of everyday life. Sometimes it’s emotions I didn’t know I was carrying, or questions I’ve been avoiding. When I paint, move, or film in those moments, it’s like I’m having a conversation with something deeper inside me. It’s not about making something perfect, it’s about being honest. Silence strips everything down, and that’s where I find the heart of what I want to say.

"Becoming ZERO" presented during the Biennale in Venice 2025

Do you believe that art can ever fully capture experience you are aiming to share?

• For me, art never quite captures the full experience I’m trying to share. When I go through something, it’s a mix of emotions, thoughts, and tiny details that don’t always fit neatly into a painting, a poem, or a song. There’s always something left unsaid or unseen.

But I’ve also found that art doesn’t need to show everything to matter. Sometimes, if I can just share a feeling or a small moment that resonates with someone else (even if it’s not the whole story), that connection feels real and enough. It’s like saying “I’ve been here. I’ve felt this” and knowing someone else understands, even just a little.

So yeah, art can’t fully capture my experience, but when it gets close enough to touch someone else’s heart, that’s what makes it so special to me.

transform-object "The reality of an elusive personality" from the exhibition "Pretvaranje" in Lustica

How do time and memory influence the way you choose to work across painting, video, and performance?

• Well, time and memory aren’t just ideas , they’re part of how I live and create. My memories carry feelings and moments that I sometimes can’t even put into words, but they find their way into my work. When I paint, it’s like I’m peeling back layers of my own past, slowly uncovering what’s been tucked away. It’s a quiet, almost meditative process.

With video, I’m drawn to how time moves, how moments flow, repeat, or slip away. It feels like I’m capturing pieces of life as they happen, but also how those moments echo in my mind afterward. Performance is something else entirely. It’s raw and immediate. The memory is alive in the moment, shifting with every breath and interaction. It’s the closest I get to sharing something truly real and fleeting, something that exists only between me and the people watching.

digital works from 2024 among the Black Box winners on the Misker art festival in Belgrade

What questions do you hope your art will always be asking?

• I hope my art always asks the kind of questions that make people pause and feel something real, like:

“What’s going on beneath the surface here?”

“Why does this moment matter?”

“How do we hold onto hope even when things feel messy or hard?”

“What parts of ourselves are we afraid to show?”

For me, art is about connection between people, feelings, and stories. So I hope my work keeps asking questions that invite others to explore their own feelings and maybe see the world a little differently, even if just for a moment.

Author: Hana Tiro