Interview by Carolin Desiree Becker, Artwork by Elsa Rouy

Elsa Rouy: “Some Things Are Better Left On The Canvas”

The works of London-based artist Elsa Rouy invite you to linger. The more you succumb to the distorted bodies, which put physical boundaries to the test, the more you seem to discern in them. Body and environment are in an osmotic state, a constant process of ‘becoming.’ They often oscillate in a delicately colored, visceral ambiguity about their somatic inception and end. They draw the viewer into an uncanny space, penetrating their psychology. The viewer is confronted with their abstract depiction of contradictory emotions, in which the suffering and pleasure of the protagonists coexist.

Self-realisation, 2024. Courtesy of the artist, Guts Gallery and GNYP Gallery.

Interview by Carolin Desiree Becker, Artwork by Elsa Rouy

Rouy’s works mirror the imperfection and complexity of human, carnal existence, manifesting our own dark components that we often try to evade. She primarily works with collages, which she reproduces in PowerPoint and subsequently changes by manipulating gestures and body parts, recreated in acrylic paint. Elsa Rouy talks about the development of her process, the self-image in our dreams, the constant flux of our emotional worlds and more.

Carolin Desiree Becker: Elsa, what would you say was your first point of contact with your perception of art?

Elsa Rouy: It has been a development over time. There was not an initial starting point, but rather a collection of experiences that have made my work what it is today. As I spend more time on my artwork, I am starting to find it comes much more from the love of the medium rather than the necessity of the theme of the works. I like the themes I explore because they mean something to me. In my opinion, however, artwork is made from the process and exploration of the making.

One could say that you come from an art-engaged family – your two brothers Alfie and George are also artists. How do you explain the fact that all of you, and especially you personally, have found your expression in art?

I can’t speak for my brothers, but for me, it was a natural progression. I have a very visual mind, so image making made sense.

Bodies play such a big role in your works, what is your personal relation to them as such?

I have always found having a body and navigating it is strange and restrictive. How disparate the cognitive brain and the functioning body seem to be. I’ve also always been fascinated with the inside and outside barriers of the body, and the complexity and fragility of it. When placing the body into my works, I don’t overthink the meaning or interpretations, I go with what feels right in the moment of creation.

Courtesy of Brynley Odu Davies

“I have always found having a body and navigating is strange and restrictive.”

Nightmares are something that you process in a figurative sense in your works, something that has a strong influence on your art. What do we see in them that we fear?

Nightmares are uncontrollable. They confront us with things that, in the waking hours, we can tune out and try to control. They’re inescapable and unpredictable.

Dreams in general take place in an instinctive space, detached from any morality, convention, shame or personal influence, and yet they spring from our own minds. Despite knowing how complex human beings are, why do we find it so difficult to confront ourselves with something that does not correspond to our self-image?

I think, again, it comes back to the uncontrollable. There’s a lack of control over how we act or what happens to us in dreams which, in our waking life, can feel disturbing as it’s all from our subconscious. It doesn’t correspond to our self-image because I guess this is something we build up in our conscious mind, or maybe a self-image we want to have. The self-image in our dreams could be a truer representation of our fears and self-doubts, which is a scary notion because it makes us question our perceived identity. But I am not a dream expert so, in all honesty, I have no idea, that’s just a shot in the dark.

How do you find your personal acceptance of yourself as a whole, including the parts of our own personality that one would rather keep hidden?

I’m working on it.

Do you think that the more we try to suppress and hide what we don’t want to see, the more it tries to find a way out, or to impose itself on us, for example in nightmares, as if to say: You can’t escape me.

Yes, definitely. Everything I’ve ever feared or tried to suppress has returned to haunt, or taunt, me in a dream.

“I don’t think transcending boundaries like I do in my paintings would be all too healthy in reality.”

Ephialtes, 2024. Courtesy of the artist and Guts Gallery.

Mortal Coil, 2024. Courtesy of the artist, Guts Gallery and Nathalie Karg Gallery.

Is there a particular feeling that you have tried to shut yourself from in the past?

Many, but the root of all of them was most likely fear.

Do you have an ideal image of yourself that you strive for?

Not really. I guess someone who can find acceptance.

In your latest solo exhibition Ephialtes, you deal with the mythological figure of the incubus, a creature that comes to disturb the sleep of an unsuspecting dreamer. How did this figure become the abstract protagonist in your latest works?

I was thinking about dreams and mythologies and demons and gender roles. I think anyone who has had trouble with nightmares understands the feeling of being plagued by a demon who won’t let you rest; I found it fitting. I read about the incubus and the succubus and the origin of the English term ephialtes and their influences in literature and media. I used the word incubus because the succubus is much more commonly used; I was a bit bored of the narrative of the female seducer, deciding on its male counterpart as a personal descriptor. It also creates a genderlessness that I think is fitting with the sleep state.

“I can decide where the boundaries between space and person start and end, but in reality, there is no start or end, it’s all paint.”

Nightmare, 2024. Courtesy of the artist and Guts Gallery.

In your works, it is often difficult to understand where a body begins and ends, often a complex form of proximity seems to arise between them. Mostly in a state between suffering and pleasure. How would you describe the emotional worlds of your characters?

The emotional worlds of my characters are never-ending and forever changing. The lack of boundaries between bodies is intentional, leaving space for the emotional landscape of the figures to flow and change. There is a lot of breaking of boundaries, especially with the body. I like to create a space where the outside and inside are the same. Emotionally, whenever I look at my paintings again, I approach them differently. Their expressions and emotiveness seem to alter depending on my own. A painful expulsion can seem like a rapture. Unease can seem like a snicker. A paint mark can mean distress and, at other times, it’s just a mark. I believe artworks are dependent on the mood you face the artwork with. In that way, a figurative piece becomes no different to an abstract piece.

The figures in your works also find themselves in an osmotic space in which the external environment and the inside can meet by breaking physical boundaries. One could see the body as a demarcation between the self and the world, and your opening of the body as a way for the inner to take refuge in the outer. What does this say about the relationship of the inner self and the world?

In the artwork, space only exists within the frame of the canvas. Everything is one and whole upon it. I can decide where the boundaries between space and person start and end, but in reality, there is no start or end, it’s all paint. If you want to, you can see the inner self and outside world similarly.

How can we transcend boundaries in reality?

I don’t think transcending boundaries like I do in my paintings would be all too healthy in reality. Bringing the mystery into reality ruins it. Some things are better left on the canvas.

“Bringing the mystery into reality ruins it. Some things are better left on the canvas.”