In an age dominated by digital art and artificial intelligence, a remarkable group of women painters is breathing new life into one of humanity's oldest art forms. These artists are not simply returning to traditional techniques – they are redefining what it means to paint in the 21st century, using their brushes to insist on physical presence in an increasingly virtual world.

The renewed interest in painting among contemporary artists reflects a deeper cultural shift. As one multimedia artist explained their return to painting during a period of political uncertainty, "I'm going home." For many creators, painting represents an intimate connection to their earliest artistic experiences – a physical process that engages both body and imagination through the direct manipulation of materials.

This movement toward painting carries particular significance for women artists, who have historically been excluded from many artistic canons and institutions. For centuries, women were more likely to be portrayed as muses rather than recognized as makers. Today's female painters are using their visibility to challenge these narratives and create tangible records of their presence and perspectives.

In her Brooklyn studio, 46-year-old Jenna Gribbon works on large-scale portraits of her wife, musician Mackenzie Scott. Gribbon considers herself a documentarian, deeply influenced by filmmaker Agnès Varda and fascinated by the relationship between subject and observer. Her process begins with candid iPhone photographs of Scott in intimate poses, which she then transforms into paintings that capture both familiarity and mystery.

"We've forgotten how to see," Gribbon explains. "Our eyes are fatigued by screens, skimming over beauty." She has been painting Scott for eight years and says she's nowhere near finished – she wants to continue documenting their relationship as they both age. Sometimes Scott sees a finished painting and recognizes herself completely; other times, she doesn't recognize the figure at all.

Sasha Gordon, 27, approaches painting from a different angle, using self-portraiture to explore themes of chaos and embodiment. Her first solo show at David Zwirner gallery in New York featured a series of works depicting how chaos manifests in our bodies. In "It Was Still Far Away" (2024), Gordon paints herself clipping her toenails with headphones on while an explosion erupts behind her – a commentary on collective obliviousness and self-indulgence.

Born to a Jewish Polish-American father and Korean mother, Gordon grew up in Somers, New York, and studied at Rhode Island School of Design. Her work is often labeled as being about identity or body positivity, but she sees it differently. "This is about disassociating and going in and out of consciousness," she says. "I just want the figures to be pure and not affected by the current social norm – not innocent but immune."

Jadé Fadojutimi, 32, creates large-scale abstract paintings that function like symphonies of color. Based in London but frequently visiting Japan, the British-Nigerian artist draws inspiration from diverse sources, including Kyoto Animation anime known for its soft, seductive use of color. "When I'm in Japan, my use of color flourishes," she explains. "The sky is different here; the color sensibility leans toward pastels that might seem feminine in the U.K. but here feels universal."

Fadojutimi's paintings reflect states of longing and dislocation, exploring not fixed identity but the instability of the concept itself. Her lush, volatile palettes behave like weather systems, with feeling arriving chromatically first before allowing itself to be understood. "When you're working with color, compositions form naturally through tone, temperature, depth, perspective, and theory," she says.

Anna Weyant, 30, brings a unique perspective to contemporary portraiture by combining classical Dutch Golden Age and Baroque techniques with modern sensibilities. Her paintings often feel like moments lifted from social media feeds, depicting young women with ambiguous expressions against neutral backgrounds. Social media has played a role in both her content and process – her figures can seem posed like Instagram images, and she gained early attention through the platform.

"My figures are posed, but I think of the images as more like film stills," Weyant explains. "Something choreographed, paused." In her New York studio, she often imagines a man in the room with her figures, just beyond the frame. Her subjects know they are being watched and play with the viewer's gaze, offering stone-like beauty while undermining it with eerie humor.

Sahara Longe, 31, finds inspiration everywhere – from historical Instagram accounts to people-watching in parks to paintings of saints in Norwegian museums. The London-based artist, who grew up on a farm in Suffolk with a British father and Sierra Leonean mother, creates semi-abstract figurative paintings that are emotionally potent yet leave room for viewer interpretation.

Longe works with traditional materials including Canada balsam, thickened linseed oil, rabbit-skin glue, gesso, and turpentine, summoning the weight of history in her process. Her paintings carry the quietude of old masters but are turned inward, with subjects claiming the frame as ground of self rather than ornament. "You're just emptying yourself and watching until something comes," she describes her process. "It's a kind of evangelical feeling of 'Oh! I've discovered something.'"

Lucy Bull, 35, works from a discreet studio in San Gabriel, California, creating paintings that pulse with an inner rhythm that feels both alive and otherworldly. She's not particular about where she paints – sometimes in alleys, sometimes in backyards, preferring to work outside in the elements. Her layered strokes carry traces of intensive labor, with each surface seeming to breathe.

"I'm constantly trying to use color and mark-making as visual bait, suspending the viewer's attention," Bull explains. "I'm creating a scenario where they're pulled into the landscape of marks." Her ambition is to teach viewers how to roam again through her intuitive, process-driven practice rooted in repetition and endurance.

Christina Quarles, 40, brings a deeply personal and spiritual approach to her work, which features figures bent and contorted to fit into dynamic, futuristic spaces. Her paintings show bodies twisting and collapsing into one another, revealing fluid, layered textures that carry the weight of history and memory. Despite losing everything in the Altadena fire in Los Angeles last January, Quarles has continued her practice.

As an only child raised by a single mother, Quarles learned early how imagination can serve as shelter. "I think of making art as a formal practice that you learn," she explains. "Eventually it becomes so familiar that it distracts the thinking brain and allows this sort of deeper subconscious to flow through you." She knows a painting is complete when she's no longer compelled toward action and becomes, like viewers, someone observing and asking questions.

These seven artists represent a broader movement of women painters who are not merely preserving traditional techniques but actively transforming them for contemporary audiences. In an era when images bombard us daily and shape our consciousness, their work serves as what one critic calls "an embodied refusal to let art exist without the traces of being."

Ultimately, painting provides a sense of belonging and connection that transcends individual experience. It reminds us that the feelings that make us feel isolated have been felt by others, that we are more alike than different. In returning to this ancient medium, these women artists are not being nostalgic – they are creating new pathways home for contemporary audiences seeking authentic human connection in an increasingly digital world.