Rachel Le Roux is a British-Filipino contemporary artist whose practice centres on the female form, identity and the shifting experience of becoming. Through expressive figurative painting, she explores femininity, movement and the space between vulnerability and strength. Drawing inspiration from dance, fashion, photography and her own experience of growing up between cultures, Le Roux creates works that consider what is revealed, what remains concealed and how women continually move between different versions of themselves.
Are you self-taught, or did you undertake formal artistic training?
I trained at Chelsea College of Art and Design, where I studied Interior and Spatial Design. Prior to that, I attended evening and weekend art classes at Central Saint Martins. That was years ago, though, so I like to believe that everything I practise now is mostly self-taught!
How would you define your visual language or conceptual approach?
My visual language is unapologetically feminine, and there is a certain loudness that screams from the canvases. Then there is the stillness that lives in the movement, in the fabric, in the body language and in what the figure says without moving at all.
I approach the female form in the way you might study a feeling, returning to it repeatedly yet finding something different each time. Sometimes, I find myself painting ideas before I fully understand them. When the words eventually come, the work I created instinctively begins to make sense to me too.
Can you describe your creative process from conception to completion?
I spend a lot of time researching, sometimes too much. I look at dancers, women in motion or stillness, fashion, and any image of women that captures my creative imagination. From there, I will often take an image into Photoshop, altering and enhancing it before I paint.
For my most recent series, I worked with a model to bring to life an idea I had been carrying, with more ideas emerging during the shoot itself. I do not often share my reference photographs, as they are my private starting point. For this latest series, however, I did, because they were as much a part of the story as the final artwork. I liked how naturally that fell into place.
Generally, though, I do not paint the photographs. I respond to them. What I keep and what I let go of changes the image entirely by the time it reaches the canvas.
I always begin with pencil, ensuring that the figures have depth and detail before introducing colour or gold. There is something about presenting the body in a desaturated form and the way it stands out on its own against whatever I have chosen to place around it.
Knowing when a piece is finished is the difficult part. I linger, delay and circle back. Eventually, I catch myself painting over the same spot again and again, and that is how I know it is time to walk away.
Does narrative, symbolism or storytelling play a role within your work?
“She, whoever she may be,” is at the heart of everything I paint. She is my story and my narrative. She is me, she is you, she is the women in my life and the women who inspire me. She is the version of ourselves we have not yet met.
All of the work asks the same question: What does it mean to be caught in the middle of becoming?
The fabric falls away, the gesture is left unfinished, and the figure occupies the space between what is shown and what remains. With each collection, the story continues.
Which artists have most influenced you, historically or contemporarily, and why?
My influences come from what I see when I research: the way dancers move, women responding to their surroundings, fashion that takes a risk, and the way fabric and texture sit against the body and transform it. Photography also feeds many of my ideas.
Artists are different. I find them on Instagram, in galleries and museums, and sometimes standing in the same room as me. I might watch someone painting fabric in layers, with satin and shadow slowly emerging through a time-lapse, or consider the way Renaissance painters could give everything to a single fold.
I am also inspired by the artists who continue to show up for the work, day after day. You would not necessarily see that influence in my paintings, but it is present in my practice and in the determination that keeps me going.
What personal, cultural or environmental influences shape your practice?
I am half British and half Filipino, and a third-culture child who grew up belonging to several places while also feeling as though I belonged to none of them completely.
That in-between space shaped me, and it is what I paint. The women in my work move between different versions of themselves, each one shifting into the next before she has even had time to understand the last.
I grew up surrounded by many cultures and many different ways of belonging. You learn to observe when you are never entirely sure where you fit. I never stopped watching, and I still paint in the way I learned to look.
In every woman, I am searching for the one part of her that remains still while everything around her continues to move.
Where is your studio based, and how does the space inform your creativity?
My studio is a corner room at home, next to my children’s bedrooms, so they can pop their heads in when they need something or simply say hello after school. During the summer, the golden-hour light pours into the room, and I love it.
The real work happens when the house empties. I paint alone, in long, uninterrupted stretches, once everyone has gone. Being at home does not change what appears on the canvas. What it gives me is the opportunity to be there for my family when they need me while still being able to paint.
People ask whether I would like a proper studio one day, somewhere larger and away from the house. I do not know. I cannot say what I would gain or what I might lose. The work is made in my current studio, in the middle of everything, and I am in no rush to change that.
Do you have any rituals or rhythms that anchor your studio practice?
Before I begin a new collection, I burn sage and Palo Santo in my studio and around the blank canvases to clear the space and introduce new intentions. I began doing this three years ago, when we moved into this house and I first started working in the studio.
Lately, I have also been pulling cards to settle my mindset, consider where I want to take my next steps, or simply pause and breathe. These are personal rituals that I practise alone. It is just me in my sacred space, surrounded by my canvases, paints and whatever energy is present in the room.
I would not call myself superstitious, though. Somewhere along the way, these rituals became a way of understanding myself better and noticing the small things that make me happy. They anchor me more than they anchor the work.
What bodies of work or projects are you currently developing?
At the moment, I am taking some time away from the studio. I have just completed six months of preparation for a solo exhibition and an art fair, and I am taking a breather before the next period of work begins next month.
The next major push will begin after FLUX. During the final quarter of the year, I want to move towards collaborative events and begin planning a new collection for 2027.
That collection is still developing. I do not yet know exactly what it will explore, but I will get there eventually!
Where can collectors encounter or acquire your work?
I am an independent artist, so everything comes directly through me. My work can be viewed on my website, www.rlerouxart.com, or through my profile at www.cohart.com/rlerouxart/profile.
Collectors can also find me on Instagram at @rlerouxart and contact me directly through the platform. Buying a piece means dealing with me personally, which has been a very positive experience.