Francesca Albergo, a 30-year-old Italian artist living in Paris, says she sees herself in the animals she draws. Her surreal, colorful, sexy creatures merge the scientific and the fantastic, and have been printed in international magazines, books, and clothing. Her “secret technique,” developed throughout a decade, allows her freedom and surprise—both essential ingredients of her work. One year ago, we asked her to illustrate a lagoonal landscape for the first issue of EVERYTHING–the printed magazine we launched two weeks ago. She decided, predictably, to do so by portraying some of the quirkiest creatures living in the Venetian lagoon. The result was a 14-page, hand-illustrated spread titled Bestiario Lagunare. In this interview, we dive into her approach, discussing how her world of wonders comes from a combination of instinct, self-observation, and skill.
When did you begin to draw? And how has your career started?
I’ve been drawing since I was a child. But I didn’t realize this could be a job until I grew older. I was raised in a small town in the south of Italy, where having an artistic career seemed unimaginable. When I discovered this thing called design, I thought maybe that would work for me. So I took up my design studies. I kept drawing, but mostly for myself, in my diary. I really liked making something with my hands instead of using my computer. After Fabrica, I decided to pursue a master’s degree in illustration.
Tell me about Fabrica. What was it and how did you end up there?
Fabrica was an artistic research center in Treviso, in the Venetian mainland, founded by Luciano Benetton in 1994 and directed by Oliviero Toscani. In the spring of 2018, I was there for a workshop with Andrea Maragno, a designer who’s also a Zen monk. One day he invited me to a portfolio review with Toscani. I showed up almost empty-handed, having only my university projects. Oliviero insulted us all. I wasn’t expecting any call afterward, but they actually reached out to me. Fabrica was one of the most important moments of my creative life. When I got there, I met Marina [Marques], Francesco [Ninno], and other friends. This place was full of incredibly talented people who were open to understanding each other. For the first time, I felt seen on an artistic level. Meeting them was a turning point.
What did you do there?
At the beginning, Fabrica functioned as an artistic residency, so artists were free to pursue their own research. Then it evolved and became more similar to a creative agency. We received requests and briefs from international organizations (but also small brands and local music bands), and we suggested ideas. Francesco [Ninno] and I kept working on COLORS magazine, which they wanted to revamp and relaunch.
Did they?
Yes, but only on Instagram, which is like not doing it. They didn’t have any budget. But it was funny, especially because Francesco and I became completely obsessed with COLORS. Trying to tell stories through the magazine’s unique tone of voice and style was fascinating.
You recently told me that your dream job would be to draw only animals.
And it’s coming true! I’ve always been fond of animals—which might have to do with the trauma of never having one: my mom was obsessed with cleaning and wouldn’t let a pet in the house. And I see them in my dreams. On a visual level, I’m always drawn to color and textures; with their diverse fur, hair, and feathers, animals are the perfect subject. They allow me to let myself go and draw the way I like—without too much thought. Animals are also very expressive: I’m always having so much fun when I draw their snouts. I project my emotions onto them. I see myself in some of their traits. Maybe they’re all self-portraits after all.
I remember you saying you prefer drawing without knowing where you’ll end up—not having full agency over your work. Tell me about your approach and technique.
I use these Stabilo crayons that are very popular with kids because they’re both water-soluble and have an oil-based component—they can be either soft or vivid. But I won’t reveal my secret technique. Let’s just say I discovered it by accident. And when I did, that’s when I started having fun: drawing can be frustrating if you don’t have the right tools.
The process I developed allows me to work fast and to be surprised every time, because the final result emerges only at the very end.
Do you always draw by hand?
Yes. My hands are always completely stained. It’s a form of meditation. I don’t focus on the result. I never really know exactly what will come out: the material dictates the image, so it’s more about the process. With animals, my favorite part comes at the end—when I give them an expression, following my feelings of the moment. When I did the goby fish for EVERYTHING’s Bestiario Lagunare, I was feeling sexy, but also angry.
Our brief for EVERYTHING was just that the illustrations should be set in a lagoon. But of course you decided to do it with animal portraits! What did you research? What inspired you?
In terms of layout and composition, I obviously looked at medieval bestiaries. But each animal is the result of intensive visual research. When I find a texture or a detail that inspires me, I start drawing, and I take it from there.
We met each other when you approached us to make the Murano glass sex toys for the project Pleasure Dance. How did you come up with that idea?
Having lived in Venice for five years, I’ve always been in love with Murano glass. I was also interested in how sexuality is portrayed: I find most sex objects a bit disgusting and creepy—they either look like severed limbs or medical instruments. They lack that playful, fun element that I think sex should have. That’s how this connection came about. So I reached out to you.
What’s your relationship with Venice?
Of absolute love. I hear many people saying that living in Venice is hard. But I’ve always embraced its harsh sides easily. It was love at first sight. Before moving there for my postgraduate studies in illustration, I had visited it only as a child. What I remember most from that trip are the colorful Murano glass candies on display. But living there was surreal. Initially I didn’t know anyone, but that didn’t bother me. Venice welcomes you, even if you’re alone.
What does it mean to be creative? I ask this question to almost anyone I interview, and I’m always surprised by how much the answers differ.
Oliviero Toscani, the founder of Fabrica, didn’t like the word creativity–it feels abstract, and he always insisted that we stick a purpose to it. So I don’t like to call myself creative.
But no doubt that you are.
Creativity is connected to a playful, child-like side of me. It brings me back to a more carefree dimension, when you didn’t have to think too much, you didn’t have life goals, you just had fun. When I draw, I tap into the energy of my inner child—who doesn’t have the rational side you develop growing up, as an adult with a job. When I’m in the flow, I focus on my feelings—drawing is a way to express them. After a long time I’ve learned how to do it. I’ve tried many approaches, but this one is the least destructive.
What’s your dream for the future?
Living in the countryside, surrounded by animals.