On the ground floor, the works initially appear photographic. This illusion fades only as one moves closer and begins to examine the intricate details of each scene. Technically—since it is appropriate to speak of technique at some point—the work is remarkable: that of a virtuoso. Yet its strength lies not only in skill. While many artists today have turned toward hyperrealism or trompe-l’oeil, few succeed in bringing their works to life as Solène Rigou does. Her singularity lies in two observations: technical (her know-how is truly exceptional) and iconographic (her choice of subjects is singular and repetitive). Savoir-faire and savoir-juger, to paraphrase the art historian Daniel Arasse.

Drawn to light and shadow, Solène Rigou has found in pale poplar wood the ideal support to achieve a luminosity that neither paper nor canvas can offer. The wood, with its grain, texture, and imperfections, inspires the dreaming hand. Although the artist works exclusively with colored pencils, she draws in the manner of the Flemish painters of the fifteenth century, applying pigment layer after layer, like glazes, until full color saturation is achieved. Hence this brilliance and depth in the drawn material. Like her illustrious predecessors, she takes evident pleasure in the representation of materials (leather, silk, mohair, gold, silver, stones), effects (transparency, shadows, folds), flowers and plants, patterns (striped, checkered), anatomical details (complexion, hair, nails, veins, lines of the hand). Through this process of successive layers, she resists the pursuit of quick results, flashy production, and the quest for effect that has gradually dominated contemporary practice. Her work aligns instead with craftsmanship, the repetitive gesture, the artist who carries within her “all the glory of the worker,” as Bachelard put it. Solène Rigou draws hands by hand. Certainly, there is an effect (mimetic resemblance is an effect), but one that is developed slowly, meticulously, and with quiet persistence.