Interview with: Dr. Nicole Crimi
Interview by: April Christiansen
Dr. Nicole Crimi is a resident physician at the University of Toronto, specializing in otolaryngology—head and neck surgery. Nicole is a multifaceted individual, renowned for her captivating artistic talent, philanthropy, and contributions to children’s education.
Nicole had a busy childhood, pursuing acting while also exploring her interests in painting and writing. She is known for her role as Kylie George in “Mean Girls” (2004), as well as her roles in “Odyssey 5” (2002) and “In the Stars” (2006). While she excelled in the arts, Nicole always aspired to be a doctor, leading her to pursue an academic career in science and medicine.
Despite the demands of her medical studies, Nicole’s passion for the visual and literary arts remained an integral part of her life. While completing her medical education at McMaster University, Nicole authored and illustrated an empowering children’s book, “Patty and the Pandemic”, to educate children ages 3 to 8 about COVID-19 in a fun and relatable manner. If this was not inspiring enough, 100% of the profits from “Patty and the Pandemic” were donated to the Face the Future Foundation. With over 6,000 copies of the book sold, a total of $28,000.00 was generously donated to provide children around the globe with life-changing surgeries.
In her spare time, Nicole fervently explores various artistic mediums, with a particular interest in oil painting and drawing. Her art collection can be considered a memoir, sharing different emotions and experiences unique to certain phases of her life. Driven by a desire to promote self-expression and embrace all aspects of her identity, Nicole continues to balance her flourishing medical career with her artistic endeavours, leaving an indelible mark on both the realms of healthcare and the visual arts.
Q: What initially inspired you to become an artist, and how has your style evolved since you first began creating?
In the early stages of my creative journey, my sisters played an instrumental role in shaping my artistic aspirations. I am the youngest of three sisters, so naturally I was interested in whatever they were doing even at the early age of two. It started with my older sister teaching me the basics, such as how to draw shapes and colour inside the lines. She would then grade my work, usually giving me a “C” or “D,” as an older sibling does.
As I grew older and explored other art forms such as acting, piano, dancing, and singing (which was not my forte), I was always drawn back to the visual arts likely because I felt it granted me with more creative control.
Art then became not only an interest or hobby, but a skill that I continuously and consciously worked to refine. Every spare minute I would be sketching hands on math tests, teaching my classmates how to draw, and staying in at lunch break to practice. But over time with age, life changes, and skill, my art has become more about communicating a message, feeling, or experience.
With medicine and leading a busy life, I don’t always have time to complete a painting or drawing in a given time frame. Instead, my art is often completed in stages, sometimes over the course of a few years. So when I look at my art, I can see the many phases of my life, filled with different experiences or emotions, reflected in it. Even though I typically start a piece of work intending to communicate a specific message, the completed project instead teaches me something about myself and casts light on what I was going through at a given point in time.
Q: While you are clearly able to balance and blend your creative and scientific talents, did you ever feel the need to choose between art or medicine earlier in your career?
Truthfully, I have not ever felt the need to choose between art or medicine. Yes, one tends to take priority over the other at times, but this comes in ebbs and flows. In my gap year before medical school, I prioritised nurturing my work as an artist and then in my first year of residency, medicine took precedence. But, now in my second year of residency, I have been able to find a better balance. It is an active decision that I make every day to prioritise making time to create and teach art amidst my work as a resident, but it’s worth it because it adds so much value and joy to my life.
I have too often heard people say, “Oh, I used to paint,” emphasising that it was a passion of their past, but I don’t want to be one of those people. I don’t want to neglect this expressive part of myself, so I will always prioritise my art alongside my medical career.
Q: Can you walk us through your creative process, from conception or inspiration to completion? How do you decide when a piece is finished?
Often, my art is inspired by a strong feeling or remarkable experience that I’ve had and wish to recreate for others. It may sound cliché, but sometimes you just have those really profound life moments or intense emotions, whether it be stress or pure joy, that you want to capture and be able to keep as a meaningful token.
For realistic art pieces it’s fairly straightforward–I gauge their completion based on how closely they mirror the intended picture, person, or object. However, when it comes to abstract pieces, my criteria shift. I consider them complete not when they precisely mimic something tangible, but rather when they evoke the intended emotion or memory. It sounds kind of funny, but I will put the piece above my bed, on my easel, or against a wall and I will just exist in its space and see how I respond to it. If the colours or movement of the art aren’t quite balanced, or I am not responding to it the way I want to, I will make fine changes until I’m happy with it. Really, it’s a more subjective and emotionally- driven assessment that signifies satisfaction in capturing the essence I wanted to convey.
Q: Is there an artwork of yours that is particularly special to you or reflects a specific experience of yours?
Yes for sure. High school was the transformative backdrop where I began to truly grow into myself and take art more seriously. Like most people in highschool, I felt somewhat pressured to fit into certain “boxes” or social dynamics, and didn’t always feel comfortable being my authentic self.
In my final years of highschool, I created a piece called, “The individual” which was the first abstract composition piece and the second abstract painting I had ever produced in my life. It holds a special place in my heart because it was also the first piece of art that I ever publicly presented and it represents me stepping into my identity both as an artist and as a unique individual, quirks and all. This painting is really a celebration of me being honest, raw, and authentically me.
Q: Are there any upcoming projects that you are excited about and able to share with us?
Absolutely! Some projects are currently under wraps, but one that I’m thrilled to share involves collaborating on another children’s book. This particular project is in partnership with CanChild, a non- profit research centre in Hamilton, Ontario, committed to positively impacting the lives of children and youth with disabilities.
Q: Do you think your identity as an artist influences your work as a resident physician? And if so, how?
One hundred percent. I think any kind of art form involves vulnerability and authenticity in order to connect with others. As an artist, expressing my personal experiences or feelings through my work requires me to be raw and honest. And as a resident physician, I rely on that same candidness to connect with patients when they are in their most vulnerable state. And in a more technical sense, surgery is very artistic in nature which is a large part of why I love it. For example, today in the operating room, I was finding the surgical planes and it felt like painting.
Q: What advice would you give to aspiring medical learners who are trying to establish themselves in the art world or even just balance their passions while in medicine?
I would say don’t be afraid to take chances and be true to yourself. With “Patty and the Pandemic,” I had quite a few people tell me that it was not a good idea, not practical, or that it was a waste of time before they saw the book’s success and impact. Even now, people will suggest that I use my spare time to study or engage in additional research rather than create art. But art is a really important part of who I am as a person and I want to honour that.