Mattia Cividino grew up in a small town where dreaming of living off art was not even taken into consideration. And yet, that is exactly what he did: he left home, moved to Milan, and every day he wakes up with a single goal — painting. Not as a professional choice, but as a necessity.
His art is a paradox that mirrors who he is: vivid, almost screaming primary colors on a canvas governed by an introverted and reserved soul. Everything he never wears explodes in his works like an unconscious confession — painting is the space where his hidden side takes shape and finds a voice.
During our conversation, in collaboration with Bleu de Chanel L’Exclusif, Mattia speaks about his relationship with art, identity, and the daily courage of chasing a dream he himself defines as “desperate” — not because it is unattainable, but because it is too big to be whispered.
How would you describe your personal style, in general? And how do you find common ground with a brand like CHANEL, which is both iconic and contemporary?
I like to experiment a lot. My style is actually very versatile — I like dressing elegantly, I wear loafers, suits, ties, shirts a lot — but at the same time I also like the street, more pop style. So with CHANEL I feel very much at home, in the sense that there is this side of me that is also refined, sophisticated.
They say that fragrance is the most invisible accessory and also the hardest to explain. For you, in your daily life, it is important — but what is the gesture, what is the emotion it gives you when you spray a fragrance, or when you have to face something?
More than the emotion the fragrance gives me, I think for me it works the other way around: when I experience an emotion, I use a specific fragrance. I wear sweeter notes when I have a date; when I’m staying home or going out with friends, I use a more relaxed fragrance, one that isn’t too “strong.” But when there’s something I really care about — like important events or work — I tend to use stronger fragrances, ones that make themselves felt, that “cling” to the skin. For me, fragrance is like a shoulder to lean on, an extra emotional support for dealing with various personal and non-personal situations.
Smell is also the sense most closely tied to memory. Is there a particular moment in your life that you associate with Bleu de Chanel L’Exclusif?
Actually, this fragrance belongs, in my opinion and personal taste, to the “stronger” fragrances I mentioned earlier — because it makes itself felt, it lingers in the air, it’s sharp but in a positive way. I really love woody and acidic notes, like the ones that characterize this perfume.
Bleu de Chanel L’Exclusif contains woody notes and leather notes, which are honestly my favorites. I really love it when a fragrance can give you that sense of depth.
“I really love it when a fragrance can give you that sense of depth.”
Your work as an artist blends a great deal with the world of beauty, fashion, and lifestyle in general, but also with your everyday life. How do you find inspiration?
I don’t have a particular moment or a routine that brings me to a certain kind of inspiration. It happens to me during the day, completely at random. For me, painting is more of a necessity. It happens in casual moments: when I feel I need to paint, I get to work and from there I completely detach for hours and hours. And I manage to handle everything well — I carve out my spaces where I’m not painting, to dedicate myself to my beauty and fashion projects, which I’m also hugely passionate about.
You also mentioned that you read a lot, that you like to research art history.
Yes, in fact a large part of my day, besides the time I spend painting, I use to do research, to read lots of art history books about my favorite painters and artists from the past.
Who are they?
My absolute favorite is Natalia Goncharova, but I also really love De Chirico — those are, right now, the ones I draw the most inspiration from. As for people and careers, I’m hugely intrigued by the life of Van Gogh, even if it’s a cliché — I’ve studied it inside and out — and also Dalì’s, because he was crazy [laughs].
“Natalia Goncharova, De Chirico, Van Gogh, Dalì…”
What is the last thing you have learned about yourself through your work?
That’s a beautiful question. I think you actually learn every day from all the works you produce: every piece I make, every drawing, is always a continuous evolution and self-exploration. Every time I work I become aware of a side of myself, or even just something new connected directly to the artistic point of view. I am continuously discovering myself.
I’ll be honest with you — for me it’s truly a kind of meditation. I have friends who meditate or go to the gym, they use those activities to release some stress. For me, painting has that effect: when I do it, it’s a truly private moment, intimate, where there’s no one else.
In your content there is always a great attention to light and detail. If you could capture the fragrance Bleu de Chanel L’Exclusif in a single photograph — whether a landscape, a moment of the day, a color — what would that photo look like?
I have several frames in mind: the first is a deep sea.
The photos I picture, thinking about this fragrance, are all dark photos, with bursts of light, like rays of sunlight. But they are also rocky settings — mountains, cliffs, loud sounds, water crashing against the rocks.
CHANEL has always invited people to go beyond appearances and to break the mold — Coco was always a pioneer in this in fashion and beauty. What is the bet or future project that excites you the most at this moment in your life?
Right now I am chasing this desperate dream — let’s call it that, in a slightly more philosophical way. As I told you before, my greatest passion is art, so my goal would be to make a living from painting.
As for a more concrete objective, I would love for history to one day speak of me, on an artistic level. That would truly be my final goal. That’s why it’s a desperate dream — because it’s a big one.
This is a fragrance that doesn’t shout to be noticed but makes itself remembered. In today’s world, where many people try to get noticed at any cost, how important is the value of genuineness to you?
I think genuineness today is one of the most important things, because people really want to hear a story, they want to see something concrete, they want to live — they want to see life for what it actually is.
As you said, there are many people right now who tend to exaggerate, or in any case to show more than they should. But I believe the best thing has always been, and always will be, to be yourself.
It’s hard, because sometimes being yourself means giving up many other things or making sacrifices that are anything but obvious, especially when you have many dreams or goals. But I still think it remains the most important thing, because over time and in the long run, authenticity in people is the strongest weapon there is.
You said earlier that you lose yourself when you paint, that it’s a moment just for you. Have you ever painted something and, when you finished, said “this is me”? Or do you find yourself leaving a piece of yourself in each work?
As I was saying, everything I make feels very much mine — I feel like I’m leaving a little piece of myself everywhere. Even the paintings I make — when the time comes to part with them, it saddens me, because I feel them as a piece of me.
It’s actually a question I’ve been asking myself often, because all the little characters, the logos, the artistic style I’m embracing have a meaning, and I’m trying to understand myself why I’m heading in this direction. I’ve asked myself a couple of questions, given myself a few answers. I think what I end up representing lately is me, but in an unconscious way.
At first glance I can come across as very shy: I tend to keep to myself, I’m a bit introverted, I come from a very small town, I never really had the chance to express myself or the opportunity to talk to a lot of people. And so there’s this side of me that can seem reserved, timid, when in reality I’m the complete opposite: once I get comfortable with people, with my friends, with the people I really care about, I’m very different. I’m active, restless.
And that’s exactly what I paint — because lately I’ve been drawing something a bit dark, yet in an ultra-colorful way, because there is exactly this gap inside me.
“I think what I end up representing lately is me, but in an unconscious way.”
If you had to describe the Bleu de Chanel L’Exclusif man using three words, which would you choose?
Definitely courage, determination, and rebellion.
And which one do you identify with the most?
Rebellion.
Earlier we said that you find inspiration from everyday life. Do you ever feel the need to recharge, to find new energy? And if you feel that need, what do you do? Where do you go? Do you dive into a book, do you escape?
Yes, it may sound repetitive and obvious, but the moment when I paint is essential to me precisely because it puts me into this state of consciousness, where I reflect a great deal on myself and on my life in general — but it also gives me an energy, a kind of recharge, because it’s a moment where I completely disconnect from everything else. When I’ve finished painting, or at the end of the day, I look at what I’ve done and I feel reborn, recharged. My space, if we want to find it, is that: my little room, right now, where I do everything.
Is there ever a day when you don’t paint?
Honestly, there is no day when I don’t do it. If I spend a day out, or take some time to be with my friends or go back to my family and I don’t have the chance to paint, I do something small anyway. I might pick up the iPad and do some sketches.
Actually, it’s really the gesture itself — feeling the brush, the color, even the sound of the color on the canvas is hugely important to me. It takes me somewhere I couldn’t explain. But it’s very important.
Is there ever a day when you don’t paint?
Honestly, there is no day when I don’t do it. If I spend a day out, or take some time to be with my friends or go back to my family and I don’t have the chance to paint, I do something small anyway. I might pick up the iPad and do some sketches.
Actually, it’s really the gesture itself — feeling the brush, the color, even the sound of the color on the canvas is hugely important to me. It takes me somewhere I couldn’t explain. But it’s very important.
And what makes you feel safe? When do you feel confident in yourself?
What makes me feel safe is, first of all, my family, my friends, the people closest to me. And then my spaces — I’m very attached to my spaces. My typical day is staying at home, painting in my little room. I’m methodical — I have my places, the ones where I truly feel good. The environment I’m in matters enormously to me: if I don’t like the place I’m in, I’m not creative. So there are these places — like my little room, my home, the little bar where I go for coffee — I chose them precisely because they make me feel good and inspire me.
The beauty world talks a great deal about feeling good with yourself. And as we said, the gesture of spraying a fragrance before doing important things is essential to you. What does it mean to you to feel comfortable in your own skin?
On a personal level, feeling good with myself means knowing that every day I wake up, I am chasing — or at least have done something to chase — my dream. So the fact of knowing I’m moving forward, even on a “bad” day when I’m at home and just do four quick drawings — for me, the act of drawing, or even simply letting my mind wander, thinking, coming up with new ideas, gives me this kind of drive and conviction. I feel at peace with myself, in the sense that I know I’m moving in the right direction.
What is your happy place?
From a relational standpoint, it’s wherever the people I truly love are — my best friends, my family, whom I love deeply and who in the end gave me everything to make it possible for me to chase my dreams. From a personal standpoint, I think it’s the moment I paint — the act of painting itself. The moment I hear the sound of art. Sound is very important to me — it’s as if it creates a kind of feeling with the canvas or with the material I’m using. For me, drawing with markers is very different from painting on canvas, at a purely sensory level: what I draw with brushes will never give me the same sensations as what I draw with markers. Even if the subject is the same — if I replicate a drawing in markers and one in oil — my process is absolutely not the same, because it’s a different emotion, a different sensation I experience in producing it.
It’s like the horse-rider relationship, I think — it sounds funny, but I know that with a horse you need to have a good interaction, and I think it’s the same for me between painter and color and canvas.
Are there dominant colors in you that recur, that get associated with something? Do you change them depending on where you go to paint? Because in your works the importance of color stands out so much.
Actually — and this is the strange thing — I don’t particularly like colors on myself. I prefer muted, darker tones. But I instinctively paint with colors because, as I was saying, I think it’s this unconscious side of me — it’s an energy I have, but that maybe doesn’t appear in me outwardly. It’s like a kind of armor: I come across as dark in the way I dress, I almost never wear bright colors, but I love applying them to the canvas — it drives me wild. And I think that’s exactly why I paint with so many colors: because I find in that what is missing in me.
There are so many dominant colors in your works.
Yes, primary colors — bright red, bright blue, green, yellow, pink, light blue. Very vivid colors.
Is there a symbol, a trait, that — even through an evolution of line or color — has always recurred, since you first started painting? Is there something that has accompanied you and continues to accompany you through the various phases?
My journey has always been made of realistic drawings: oils, charcoals, shading, portraits. And it has been an incredible evolution. I’m convinced that even now, every painting I make always has something more or different compared to the one before. So a distinctive trait, I’ve never really carried one with me. What I am carrying with me, instead, I think has always been the passion. I think I’ll carry it with me forever, because I love my paintings more than almost anything — when I finish a painting, I look at it and I like it, I love it. I am in love with my art.
What do you think?