Artist Tatania Efimova on botanical art, Bali’s sacred flowers, and Ubud’s magic-imubed rituals
From gestures of flirtation to the spirit realm, flowers add more than just colour to Balinese life – as Ubud-based botanical artist Tatania (Tania) Efimova has discovered
"Indonesia is one of the most biodiverse countries in the world, with flowers blooming all the time. Here, flowers are special beings. [The Balinese] pray with them… they carry a beautiful, powerful energy."
Chatting to Tania in the sleepy warung opposite Botanical Atelier, her art shop, it’s clear she feels a deep affinity for Bali and its flora. She speaks earnestly about the island’s “pull,” how it seemed to draw her in – and how grateful she is to call it home. A path, she says, shaped entirely by chance.
Originally from Belarus, Tania moved to Asia in 2014 from Lithuania, where she was working as a graphic designer. She describes the decision as a ‘twist of fate’ moment, with a friend’s invitation to Malaysia coming the same day immigration called with the news she had to leave the country. Returning to Belarus held no appeal, so she happily packed her bags and headed for the tropics.
‘I loved Malaysia,’ she beams, ‘it was so bright and vibrant’. But her first encounter with Bali – for a visa run – was even more profound.
The Balinese gods greeted her in dramatic style – sheeting rain, forks of lightning slicing the sky open, and supersonic thunder cracks, the likes of which you only get in the tropics. The roads flooded. The taxi had to stop several times for water to subside.
“In the flashes of lightning, I caught glimpses of magical palaces, villas, and carved statues,” recounts Tania.
There was also a strange feeling of déjà vu. “Things felt familiar, even though they were completely new.”
Just months later, Tania returned to Bali and rented a house in Ubud. The Bali she knew only from Eat, Pray, Love began to unfold for real before her. She fell into an intense romance, and immersed herself in painting as a way of finding calm amidst the chaos.
“This guy was crazy,” she laughs, shaking her head. “He threw a coffee table from the balcony to the rice field!”
Watercolour soon became more than a distraction, slowly drawing her into the artistic circles of Ubud. Through her friendship with Pak Agung Rai, the founder of ARMA Museum, she exhibited her first body of work, a series of freestyle watercolours reflecting her travels through Europe, the Middle East, and Asia. Pak Agung Rai also introduced her to her now-husband, fellow painter and nature lover, I Wayan Januariawan (Donal).
During the quieter years of the pandemic, Tania turned fully towards botanical art – a shift that felt both natural and meaningful. “I’ve always loved flowers,” she says simply. “It just felt like my cup of tea.”
She tells me she’s painted more than 50 plant varieties, studying them on her morning walks and slowly piecing together their spiritual role through the daily ceremonies of her extended Balinese family.
Hibiscus, with its flamboyant red bloom, is a favourite. Splashing colour to leafy side streets, they can often be seen tucked behind the ears of bedogan (stone temple guardians). What many don’t know however, is that the hibiscus flower is also a symbol of virility.
“If you are a young man, and you put a hibiscus in your udeng” – traditional cloth headwear for men – “it means you’re looking for love,” she grins.
Tania captures the vermillion beauty of this ubiquitous bloom in My Orange Hibiscus. The story of how the flower came to be her subject only adds to the painting’s charm.
“On one of our walks near the Tegallalang rice fields, we noticed bushes with huge, incredibly beautiful flowers,” she says.
When the landowner appeared for a chat, the couple asked if they could buy one of the shrubs. The farmer had different ideas.
“Without a word, he dug up a small bush and gifted it to us for free,” she recalls, smiling.
That same shrub now grows in Tania’s garden, blooming again and again.
Eggplant, one of four works exhibited at the Plantae exhibition in London this year, captures nature’s effortless wabi-sabi through the humble beauty of a ripe, inviting Asian aubergine. With gentle brushstrokes, Tania delicately renders the nightshade — complete with pale purple flowers and partially moth-eaten leaves. The vegetable itself was a thank-you gift from a farmer whose garden Tania and Donal had helped protect.
Also featured in London was Soul of the Dragon, a striking depiction of a blooming dragonfruit flower — a remarkably rare sight, as these flowers are nocturnal, opening at dusk and wilting by morning.
“I felt incredibly lucky when this flower was blooming in our family temple early one morning,” says Tania. “It was massive — the size of a tea saucer!”
She jumped out of bed at 6 a.m. to sketch it — a moment of inspiration that would go on to earn her the prestigious Joyce Cumming Award.
Left to right: “Eggplant,” “Soul of the Dragon” (dragonfruit flower)
Tania’s genuine passion for botany is clear. But it’s her rare insight into the magic and meaning behind Bali’s ceremonial flowers that allows her to colour them so emotively.
She recalls the ngaben (cremation) for her mother-in-law.
“On the morning she passed, the family came to the hospital to invite her soul home,” says Tania. They brought a puspa – a special offering of white frangipanis and ceremonial cloth. Fragrant and pure, it is believed that the dead person’s soul is drawn to this arrangement.
“The eldest lady in the room knocked loudly beside the bed and shouted, ‘Made, let’s go home!’” Tania pauses. “I still get goosebumps recalling that moment.”
Later, she was given the honour of carrying the puspa.
“It felt like I was holding something very light, but also very alive and precious. It’s difficult to express in words, but it was a responsibility that felt both exciting and significant”.
One of the few foreigners to truly see under the skin of this multi-layered and nuanced culture, Tania carries herself with the ease of someone exactly where they’re meant to be. She shares one last analogy about flowers – this time, it’s the story behind sandat (ylang ylang), a blossom that becomes more fragrant with age and, in the Balinese worldview, mirrors the grace of maturing women.
“In Bali, there is beauty in maturity. You have to be strong, take care of your family, the children,” she explains.
What a lovely thought to end on.
We profiled Tania to celebrate the launch of Short Stories wines in Bali. Our GSM, Rosé and SBS are now pouring at restaurants across the island – or pick up a bottle at @thecellardoor.bali.
You can explore more of Tania’s work on Instagram, @tania.aquarelle.art.
