10 Questions with Božica Rakić
Božica Rakić is a Serbia-based visual artist whose practice merges surrealism and hyperrealism through a strictly monochromatic palette. A graduate philologist in Turkish language and literature from the University of Belgrade, she entered the field of visual arts as an autodidact only five years ago, yet her work has already gained international recognition.
Her drawing Anathema was awarded the Second Prize for Drawing at the prestigious Chianciano Biennale of Contemporary Art in Tuscany (2022). Her works, executed primarily in pencil and charcoal, occasionally in acrylic, have since been exhibited with the Almenara Collection (2023, online) and at the International Biennial of Miniature Art in Serbia (2024). In early 2025, she was selected by Paris-based Galerie Cohle for the publication 100 Women Artists on the Rise, and the same year, she presented her first solo exhibition, At the Threshold of Dreams.
Her work does not narrate; it interrupts. Each drawing becomes less an image and more an event, an encounter where silence is louder than words, and shadow speaks more truth than light.
Božica Rakić - Portrait
ARTIST STATEMENT
Božica Rakić creates with pencil and charcoal, at times with acrylic, treating these materials not as humble tools but as instruments of precision and rupture. In her hands, monochrome becomes a weapon, an uncompromising discipline that cuts away excess and confronts what remains.
Her practice interrogates the fractures of the body and perception, staging encounters where the hyperreal collides with the surreal. Each drawing is less a depiction than a mechanism of interruption: images that stop the viewer mid-thought, redirecting perception into unease, stillness, or revelation.
The process itself is an act of tension, obsessive control of line against the vulnerability of shadow, restraint against eruption. Out of this struggle emerge works that resist being “looked at” in any passive sense; instead, they must be endured, wrestled with, and allowed to unsettle.
Rakić’s art refuses the role of illustration. It does not tell stories; it dismantles them. Shadow here is not background but force, absence is not void but pressure. What emerges is less a picture than an event, an experience that lingers long after the eye has moved on.
Within contemporary practice, where spectacle often seeks to overwhelm, her work asserts that drawing, pared down to black, white, and the hand that insists, remains the sharpest instrument of revelation.
The Lie, acrylics on canvas, 70x100 cm, 2025 © Božica Rakić
INTERVIEW
First of all, introduce yourself to our readers. Who are you, and how did you start experimenting with images?
My name is Božica Rakić, a Serbia-based artist who works almost exclusively in black and white. I grew up in the studio of my late father, a surrealist painter, so canvases and the smell of turpentine were part of my earliest memories. A self-taught artist, driven by persistence, desire, and a deep need to make, I have been drawing since childhood; it was my ritual, day and night.
Later, like any young person, I explored other paths: music, languages, and different forms of expression. When you are blessed with many talents, it can be difficult to find where you truly belong. But not long ago, I felt a strong pull to return to the pencil, as if it had been waiting for me all along. Today, monochrome has become my natural territory, raw, timeless, and the most honest way I can translate inner worlds into visible form.
You began your journey in art only five years ago, coming from a background in philology. What led you from language to drawing?
As I mentioned, it wasn't really a turn from one field to another, visual expression has been inside me since birth, I suppose. Growing up with a father who was an artist himself was both a gift and a burden. His expectations, and my fear of not fulfilling them, led me into different directions, music, languages, and philology. I played the flute and the piano, I immersed myself in words, and I explored countless paths. Each of these experiences enriched me, sharpened my sensitivity, and deepened my understanding of expression. Yet, no matter where I turned, the inner voice kept calling me back. When it whispers, or sometimes insists, you cannot ignore it. For me, that voice has always led straight to art, to the silence of a blank space, where my world takes shape.
The Balcony With The Wall View, graphite pencils on paper, 30x40 cm, 2025 © Božica Rakić
Your practice combines surrealism and hyperrealism in a monochrome palette. What draws you to black and white as your primary mode of expression?
Black and white has always felt like home to me. It strips away distraction, leaving only form, shadow, and emotion. In monochrome, every mark, every line, carries weight; every contrast becomes a language. Surrealism allows me to explore the subconscious, to reveal hidden truths, while hyperrealism anchors those visions in a tangible, almost unbearable clarity. Colour can seduce, but it can also dilute. Maybe it's no coincidence that I am a person of extremes myself, black and white suits me just fine. It is in this tension between the imagined and the real, the dark and the light, that my work truly breathes.
Pencil and charcoal are often considered humble tools, yet you treat them as instruments of precision and rupture. How do you approach these materials?
Graphite pencils and charcoal don't forgive. Every line is permanent, every mark deliberate. I can understand why they are called "humble"; they are simple, unadorned, and unpretentious. But that is where the misconception ends. Graphite was once so prized that it was stored under lock and key, and charcoal has been leaving its mark since prehistoric times. I approach these materials with respect and authority, feeling every line as a decision, every shadow as a choice. I do not bend form or shadow to convenience; each stroke carries intention, vulnerability, and a trace of myself. With pencil and charcoal, I am in dialogue with the paper, sometimes gentle, sometimes relentless, and it never allows me to hide, never forgives, never lies. These "humble" tools are instruments of clarity, control, and revelation, demanding mastery while offering the power to make the invisible tangible.
You’ve described your drawings as “events” rather than images. Can you explain what you mean by that?
Each of my drawings unfolds like an encounter; they are moments of energy, tension, and emotion captured on paper. Every line and shadow carries intention, a fragment of thought that refuses to remain silent. You won't find idyllic cottages in flower fields here, and it's not that I think there's anything wrong with that as a form of artistic expression, but my work refuses comfort and decoration. They demand presence: the viewer does not simply look, they experience, they move through, they feel. What sets my work apart is that I have never seen anyone remain indifferent to the visual world I create. Some may find it unsettling, even confrontational, and that's fine. My drawings exist in that liminal space between perception and sensation; they are lived experiences, fleeting yet persistent, challenging the boundary between artist, material, and observer.
Dinner With The Eternal Stag, graphite pencils on paper, 40x40 cm, 2024 © Božica Rakić
The Cartographers of Elsewhere, graphite pencils on paper, 40x40 cm, 2024 © Božica Rakić
Silence, shadow, and absence seem central in your work. How do these elements shape the atmosphere of your drawings?
My artworks are built on what isn't there, the pauses, the empty spaces, the half-seen shapes that press against the eye and mind. They creep in, hang heavy, make you look closer, make you think harder. They don't comfort—they press, they linger, they whisper what you try to ignore. The spaces between lines, the weight of darkness, the hollow spots, they pull you in, make you move through the unknown. Half-seen faces, empty corners, and trembling shadows create a tension that is almost unbearable, yet magnetic. You step in, you feel the weight, or you walk out uneasy. Either way, it leaves a mark, a residue of something unspoken, a trace of what it is to be alive and unsettled.
Do you see your works as connected to personal experiences, or do they operate more as universal reflections on the human condition?
Every artist will tell you much the same: their work is always entwined with personal experience. It can't be otherwise. Our subconscious seeps in, uninvited yet undeniable, shaping every line, every contour, every space between. Even when the intention is universal, the pieces carry traces of who we are, what we've lived, what we've felt. For me, it's not a choice, it's the nature of creation. These forms operate in that space where the personal and the universal collide, where private experience resonates with something everyone recognises, even if they can't put it into words.
What was it like preparing your first solo exhibition, At the Threshold of Dreams?
Preparing and organising an exhibition is never simple. I approached it with my soul, trusting completely in the honesty of my work. That confidence carried me through. When you create from the heart, there is no room for doubt. Of course, there were challenges: moments of searching for inspiration, technical hurdles, especially living in a country where art is often undervalued. But I was not alone, having the support of my mentor and my family gave me an additional layer of strength, a quiet power that allowed me to trust the work and keep moving forward. I never feared the audience's reaction; I knew I was offering something rare, something that stays with people, and that certainty was enough to carry me through.
Lullaby, graphite pencils on paper, 20x30 cm, 2025 © Božica Rakić
You are part of 100 Women Artists on the Rise. How do you see your role as a woman artist within the contemporary art landscape?
It's not just an honour, it's a responsibility I embrace with full awareness. My work exists as a statement of presence and authenticity: it refuses compromise, challenges expectations, and reflects a perspective that is rare in today's art world, where so few artists maintain a truly personal voice. I don't create art to fit into what sells today, nor do I care to. What matters is that my work is original, unmistakably mine, and I trust that it will be recognised for what it is. It doesn't aim to fit in or conform; it exists to claim space, provoke thought, and inspire others to trust their own vision.
And lastly, what are you working on now? Do you have any new projects, series, or concepts you are currently developing?
I'm always working on something, ideas are never scarce in my world. Among other things, I'm preparing my first art book, Whispered Traces, built around graphite and charcoal study drawings. It's shaping into an intimate, unforgettable experience, a book I truly believe will allow people to connect with my work on a deeper level. In it, I've merged my gift for drawing with my love for writing, creating a dialogue between text and image that feels wholly personal and resonant. Beyond the book, I'm already thinking about my next exhibition, where I plan to experiment with acrylics and larger-scale works, while staying true to my monochrome vision. This project reflects everything I strive for as an artist: honesty, emotion, and the quiet power of presence.
Artist’s Talk
Al-Tiba9 Interviews is a promotional platform for artists to articulate their vision and engage them with our diverse readership through a published art dialogue. The artists are interviewed by Mohamed Benhadj, the founder & curator of Al-Tiba9, to highlight their artistic careers and introduce them to the international contemporary art scene across our vast network of museums, galleries, art professionals, art dealers, collectors, and art lovers across the globe.
