Magic in the Making
There's something fitting about an artist who goes by un loup, the wolf. Lou Benesch's work has that quality: wild at its edges, instinctive in its logic, and somehow both ancient and alive. Paris-based and French-American by upbringing, Lou has built a practice from the raw material of folklore, nature, and mythological creatures Lou Benesch, producing watercolours that feel less like illustrations and more like images surfacing from somewhere deeper, a shared archive of myth and memory we've all been drawing on without knowing it.
When Fortnum & Mason came to us looking to bring their easter collection to life, Lou felt like the perfect collaborator. Once we landed on the idea of telling the story of Ostara, the old Germanic goddess of spring, of dawn, of renewal. We realised this myth asks to be felt before it's explained. Lou's visual language, rooted in archetype and instinct, does exactly that. The result is a collection that carries the weight of something remembered, even if you've never seen it before.
Kate sat down with Lou to talk about magic, watercolour, and what it means to translate the ancient into something startlingly new.
K: Your work has a very distinctive quality. How would you describe it to someone encountering it for the first time?
L: I would say it's a colourful reflection of my love for nature and all its creatures. I try to infuse it with a sense of timelessness and magic. Watercolour is also a way for me to connect with something very organic, there's a fine balance between what I can control and the ever-changing way the water and pigments react when they meet.
K: That tension between control and surrender feels so present in the work. Is that what you mean by capturing magic? Is it a feeling, a technique, or something harder to name?
L: Retaining the instinctive quality of my work is very important to me. I try to keep my sketches as loose as possible, and never overwork the shapes. Trusting myself is key, knowing I'll find a way to draw in clear lines what is mostly still a feeling, a set of elements whose outlines are still a little blurry. Art-making is a magical act in itself. It's a way of communicating magical things to others. I try to remember that as often as possible.
K: The Ostara collection is rooted in myth and seasonal ritual. How did you approach translating something so ancient and intangible into a visual language that still feels fresh and contemporary?
L: Myths and legends have always had a very important place in my work, stories of all kinds, from all ages, carry a constant resonance. That's what I find beautiful in them. Composing with what I think of as an alphabet of archetypes makes the work readable in many ways. We all have a connection to tales, and I love watching how people relate to the images. Visual symbols aren't complicated by nature. What they carry may be complex, but their role is to speak, to translate what is sometimes intangible.
K: And what did working with Fortnum & Mason mean to you personally? It's such a storied institution. Did that shape the creative process at all?
L: It was definitely a dream come true. I grew up seeing the beautiful tins my grandmother kept in her kitchen, that's one of my earliest associations with Fortnum's. So to have my work find its way onto those tins felt extraordinary. I approached the project as a real collaboration, trying to blend both our worlds together.
K: Last question, this piece is running in our Spring edition, themed around collective optimism and newness. In three words, how would you describe spring?
L: Green. Awake. Light.
