Rachel Mercer: "The painterly surface becomes a conduit for emotion and feeling."

Your focus on human movement is central to your work. How did this interest develop, and why is it so important to you?
 

Early on, I studied both art and contemporary dance, which naturally led me to explore the overlap between the two disciplines. My interest in movement evolved through my engagement with both Eastern and Western artistic traditions. I was drawn to abstract expressionism, particularly the footage of Jackson Pollock’s energetic, full-body movements while painting. At the same time, I was fascinated by the precise, contemplative gestures of Chinese brush painters and calligraphers, who used only the wrist and hand but still conveyed energy and movement in their work. My study of Chinese brush painting taught me about capturing essence through concise brushstrokes. I wanted to use brushstrokes to achieve vitality in my work, whether expressing the quiet, solitary stillness of an individual or exploring the gestures and actions of people as they move through space. Capturing movement is important to me because it allows me to express the vitality of human activity.

Talk about your use of drawing. How does this help you select subject matter and capture movement in your paintings?
 

In my work, movement emerges from the immediacy of the painting process. I capture the “presentness” of a moment through direct mark-making—most of the time, I make very quick sketches on location to capture the unique gestures and movements of people. The drawings of Rembrandt and Toulouse-Lautrec influenced my desire to capture these brief glimpses of human interaction. I take my sketches back to the studio, where they become the starting point for a painting. Often, the paintings become compilations of different sketches (see Charge, oil on canvas, 2024). Other times, I will paint a real-life encounter entirely from memory (see Duel, oil on canvas, 2024). In my experience, working from memory or a drawing feels far more authentic than working from a photograph (I never use photography in my work). Memory is multi-dimensional; it uses all sensory information—sounds, touch, smell, as well as visual information from many different viewpoints. Working from this sensory memory allows me to distil the essence of the scene. The painting finds its completion when it resonates with both observation and feeling, born from my complete immersion in the subject and connection to the act of painting itself.

Your work involves a distinctive process of reworking, layering, and scraping the paint. How do these techniques contribute to the emotional depth of your paintings?
 

For me, the subject emerges on the canvas through the process of moving paint around. Although I use sketches, when I start a painting, there is no fixed plan. Reworking, layering, and scraping help me to discover the image. The act of reworking a painting exposes earlier layers; there is a sense of chance and happy accident, making the process intuitive. I am constantly responding to what is happening on the painterly surface. This process naturally creates a sense of movement and change. The surface of the finished painting is difficult to capture in a photograph, but when seen ‘in the flesh,’ I believe the texture of the paint and the chaos of loose brushwork help the work transcend illustration, reportage, or history painting. The painterly surface becomes a conduit for emotion and feeling.

Do your depictions of people reflect particular moments or narratives that hold special meaning for you?
 

In the Shopping Centre series, I explore the interplay of public and private life—observing people in everyday, often overlooked moments, like two strangers sitting next to each other on a bench (Bench, Oil on Canvas, 2024). I’m interested in capturing the tension between connection and isolation, and how these fleeting moments reflect broader human experiences. In the Playground series, I’m interested in rendering childhood memories in a visceral way and considering how playgrounds become microcosms of human behaviour. In my current series depicting farmers and gardeners, I’m interested in the connection between people and the earth. I want my work to speak to the vulnerability, strength, and beauty of the human condition by embodying the quiet, emotional complexity of everyday life.