Delphine Lebourgeois’ new show, Play, opened at Broadworks (22 April- 5 May). Sixteen works on paper cover the walls of the quiet gallery, contrasting with the hustle and bustle of Liverpool Street. Lebourgeois’ creative playfulness and her (sometimes irreverent) ode to art and freedom operates at full force in Play - 6 details to look out for…
The more you look, the more you see: Absorbing each drawing requires standing still for a moment, and letting each detail appear before your eyes. In Warrior with Buzz Hive (2024) the eye first meets a woman wearing a dress, but a few seconds’ studying of the image allows details to appear, and the image is nothing short of morphing before the viewer’s eyes, from tiny dinosaurs to secret lighters.
The ‘right’ femininity? A smoking lady in a sea of pink bubbles Ball Pool (2025) greets the viewer at the door. Like many of the exhibition’s ladies, who have buzzed hair or tattoos, she dons red lips and painted nails, potentially a stance against the sometimes perverse, always demanding beauty standards of the ‘no-makeup-makeup’ and ‘effortless beauty’, while smoking is still seen as masculine by many.
Life and stone: In Cinema (2025), a woman floats in a sea of marble statues - the woman is the only living being, whereas her Davidian counterparts remain of stone - a reflection on the energy and life which thrives within women?
Idleness: Some ladies seem idle or deep in thought, a recurring theme in Lebourgeois’ work as seen in Smoke II (Pink)(2025). These moments of peace encourage the viewer to imagine the potential chaos lying just outside the drawing’s boundaries. The ladies relax in their baths or their bodies - a well-deserved break from society’s expectations around the multitasking, ever-productive woman? Can we ever be at rest?
A(wo)men: Religious imagery is subtly wound into the artwork in the form of nuns and angels for example in Epiphany (2025). Religious visuals can be heavy-handed, but Lebourgeois avoids the convention trap and remains light-touch, possibly playing with the connection between religion and women and the complex relation of power and control.
Pop Art: Contrasting colours, clean lines, and stylised bodies echo the Pop Art movement of the '50s and '60s. Like works by Roy Lichtenstein, Lebourgeois builds humour, irony, and recognisable imagery into her images. The work reflects where we are at today, and the viewer can only be pulled in.
Lebourgeois’ female characters are rebellious, free, and united; there is no anger but an intensity that embodies the reality of many women’s lives. The global climate around women’s rights feels regressive, but standing alongside Lebourgeois ladies brings humour, insight, and courage to what can be a difficult topic.
Delphine Lebourgeois is a French artist based in London who studied Fine Art at École des Beaux-Arts de Lyon and completed her Master's at Central Saint Martins in London. Her work explores the realm of human psychology whilst questioning illustrative and fine art traditions. She is interested in popular culture, fairy tales and storytelling. Her work has been featured in The Guardian, Vogue, Time Out, Stylist and Soho House, amongst others.
We hear more from the artist below…
Your latest series is called “Play”. What does play mean to you?
Retaining childhood is part of creativity; you need to be playful in creativity. It’s also being mischievous- that’s part of being a kid, really. That’s what I wanted to get at in the new series.
Tell me about your childhood and how it has impacted your work.
There’s so much of us in our childhood. When I was ten, I was bullied by older boys at school, and this had a particular impact, I think. It was just one year, the last year of primary school. I watched a lot of anime and superhero films at that time, and imagined them rescuing me. There’s a link to all the armies I create, of protecting that child and inner child in my work. There was She-Ra and He-Man - Musclor in French. He was so strong! It was escapism for me, and storytelling was super important. All I had were books and TV.
What are some ways you still play as an adult?
Cold water swimming at the lido! There’s definitely something playful about it. And in my work, of course. Collage is always playful, but at the moment, I’m playing and exploring with other materials, like jewel stickers. The pink as well – it’s my favourite colour. I must admit that, because I’m making a living out of it, the gratuitous playfulness can sometimes be lost. The carefree element is gone because there’s a business attached to it. But sometimes I need to create images I know will not be the most popular, because it’s important to me.
What role does religion have to play in this series?
I went to a Catholic school and was brought up by nuns, so this series is my take on that. There needs to be a bit of humour to it. I was very religious until I was eighteen – then I studied philosophy and I lost all of it in one go. I read [Jean-Paul] Sartre, existentialism, and his whole philosophy made me lose God. I felt very alone after that. When you have Him, you have someone to protect you, you have guidance. I lost that very suddenly.
What about the other symbols in your work? The Greek statue, for instance, or space?
The Greek statue is a bit like popular art reappropriating classicism. For me, it’s about mixing genres – anime, comic books, and a classical aesthetic. It’s a collage, a juxtaposition of styles and eras. Space is really specific to this series, and it’s because I’ve been watching a lot of anime set in space recently. One called Space Dandy is sensational - it’s so wacky, and the colours and drawings are phenomenal. Sci-fi is incredibly important to me, and space is infinite and quite terrifying.
Some of your characters are actually quite terrifying – does fear have a role to play in your work?
This is quite interesting because I never meant for them to be scary. Maybe I don’t know how to draw! But my work is very feminist, and I like the idea of strong women who are scary because they are not pretty. The artist Roxana Halls paints these laughing women with a mouth full of terrifying teeth, but I love them. This idea is that women are not here to be pleasing, meek, and pretty. So it’s not even intentional, but I’m happy that some of my women are scary. That’s a culture I want to be a part of. Some of my women are still beautiful, but I like that many of them also eat butterflies and birds [in series Delicacies]. It’s women devouring life – and I’m here for it.
Delphine Lebourgeois’ new show, Play, opened at Broadworks (22 April- 5 May). Sixteen works on paper cover the walls of the quiet gallery, contrasting with the hustle and bustle of Liverpool Street. Lebourgeois’ creative playfulness and her (sometimes irreverent) ode to art and freedom operates at full force in Play - 6 details to look out for…
The more you look, the more you see: Absorbing each drawing requires standing still for a moment, and letting each detail appear before your eyes. In Warrior with Buzz Hive (2024) the eye first meets a woman wearing a dress, but a few seconds’ studying of the image allows details to appear, and the image is nothing short of morphing before the viewer’s eyes, from tiny dinosaurs to secret lighters.
The ‘right’ femininity? A smoking lady in a sea of pink bubbles Ball Pool (2025) greets the viewer at the door. Like many of the exhibition’s ladies, who have buzzed hair or tattoos, she dons red lips and painted nails, potentially a stance against the sometimes perverse, always demanding beauty standards of the ‘no-makeup-makeup’ and ‘effortless beauty’, while smoking is still seen as masculine by many.
Life and stone: In Cinema (2025), a woman floats in a sea of marble statues - the woman is the only living being, whereas her Davidian counterparts remain of stone - a reflection on the energy and life which thrives within women?
Idleness: Some ladies seem idle or deep in thought, a recurring theme in Lebourgeois’ work as seen in Smoke II (Pink)(2025). These moments of peace encourage the viewer to imagine the potential chaos lying just outside the drawing’s boundaries. The ladies relax in their baths or their bodies - a well-deserved break from society’s expectations around the multitasking, ever-productive woman? Can we ever be at rest?
A(wo)men: Religious imagery is subtly wound into the artwork in the form of nuns and angels for example in Epiphany (2025). Religious visuals can be heavy-handed, but Lebourgeois avoids the convention trap and remains light-touch, possibly playing with the connection between religion and women and the complex relation of power and control.
Pop Art: Contrasting colours, clean lines, and stylised bodies echo the Pop Art movement of the '50s and '60s. Like works by Roy Lichtenstein, Lebourgeois builds humour, irony, and recognisable imagery into her images. The work reflects where we are at today, and the viewer can only be pulled in.
Lebourgeois’ female characters are rebellious, free, and united; there is no anger but an intensity that embodies the reality of many women’s lives. The global climate around women’s rights feels regressive, but standing alongside Lebourgeois ladies brings humour, insight, and courage to what can be a difficult topic.
Delphine Lebourgeois is a French artist based in London who studied Fine Art at École des Beaux-Arts de Lyon and completed her Master's at Central Saint Martins in London. Her work explores the realm of human psychology whilst questioning illustrative and fine art traditions. She is interested in popular culture, fairy tales and storytelling. Her work has been featured in The Guardian, Vogue, Time Out, Stylist and Soho House, amongst others.
We hear more from the artist below…
Your latest series is called “Play”. What does play mean to you?
Retaining childhood is part of creativity; you need to be playful in creativity. It’s also being mischievous- that’s part of being a kid, really. That’s what I wanted to get at in the new series.
Tell me about your childhood and how it has impacted your work.
There’s so much of us in our childhood. When I was ten, I was bullied by older boys at school, and this had a particular impact, I think. It was just one year, the last year of primary school. I watched a lot of anime and superhero films at that time, and imagined them rescuing me. There’s a link to all the armies I create, of protecting that child and inner child in my work. There was She-Ra and He-Man - Musclor in French. He was so strong! It was escapism for me, and storytelling was super important. All I had were books and TV.
What are some ways you still play as an adult?
Cold water swimming at the lido! There’s definitely something playful about it. And in my work, of course. Collage is always playful, but at the moment, I’m playing and exploring with other materials, like jewel stickers. The pink as well – it’s my favourite colour. I must admit that, because I’m making a living out of it, the gratuitous playfulness can sometimes be lost. The carefree element is gone because there’s a business attached to it. But sometimes I need to create images I know will not be the most popular, because it’s important to me.
What role does religion have to play in this series?
I went to a Catholic school and was brought up by nuns, so this series is my take on that. There needs to be a bit of humour to it. I was very religious until I was eighteen – then I studied philosophy and I lost all of it in one go. I read [Jean-Paul] Sartre, existentialism, and his whole philosophy made me lose God. I felt very alone after that. When you have Him, you have someone to protect you, you have guidance. I lost that very suddenly.
What about the other symbols in your work? The Greek statue, for instance, or space?
The Greek statue is a bit like popular art reappropriating classicism. For me, it’s about mixing genres – anime, comic books, and a classical aesthetic. It’s a collage, a juxtaposition of styles and eras. Space is really specific to this series, and it’s because I’ve been watching a lot of anime set in space recently. One called Space Dandy is sensational - it’s so wacky, and the colours and drawings are phenomenal. Sci-fi is incredibly important to me, and space is infinite and quite terrifying.
Some of your characters are actually quite terrifying – does fear have a role to play in your work?
This is quite interesting because I never meant for them to be scary. Maybe I don’t know how to draw! But my work is very feminist, and I like the idea of strong women who are scary because they are not pretty. The artist Roxana Halls paints these laughing women with a mouth full of terrifying teeth, but I love them. This idea is that women are not here to be pleasing, meek, and pretty. So it’s not even intentional, but I’m happy that some of my women are scary. That’s a culture I want to be a part of. Some of my women are still beautiful, but I like that many of them also eat butterflies and birds [in series Delicacies]. It’s women devouring life – and I’m here for it.
Delphine Lebourgeois’ new show, Play, opened at Broadworks (22 April- 5 May). Sixteen works on paper cover the walls of the quiet gallery, contrasting with the hustle and bustle of Liverpool Street. Lebourgeois’ creative playfulness and her (sometimes irreverent) ode to art and freedom operates at full force in Play - 6 details to look out for…
The more you look, the more you see: Absorbing each drawing requires standing still for a moment, and letting each detail appear before your eyes. In Warrior with Buzz Hive (2024) the eye first meets a woman wearing a dress, but a few seconds’ studying of the image allows details to appear, and the image is nothing short of morphing before the viewer’s eyes, from tiny dinosaurs to secret lighters.
The ‘right’ femininity? A smoking lady in a sea of pink bubbles Ball Pool (2025) greets the viewer at the door. Like many of the exhibition’s ladies, who have buzzed hair or tattoos, she dons red lips and painted nails, potentially a stance against the sometimes perverse, always demanding beauty standards of the ‘no-makeup-makeup’ and ‘effortless beauty’, while smoking is still seen as masculine by many.
Life and stone: In Cinema (2025), a woman floats in a sea of marble statues - the woman is the only living being, whereas her Davidian counterparts remain of stone - a reflection on the energy and life which thrives within women?
Idleness: Some ladies seem idle or deep in thought, a recurring theme in Lebourgeois’ work as seen in Smoke II (Pink)(2025). These moments of peace encourage the viewer to imagine the potential chaos lying just outside the drawing’s boundaries. The ladies relax in their baths or their bodies - a well-deserved break from society’s expectations around the multitasking, ever-productive woman? Can we ever be at rest?
A(wo)men: Religious imagery is subtly wound into the artwork in the form of nuns and angels for example in Epiphany (2025). Religious visuals can be heavy-handed, but Lebourgeois avoids the convention trap and remains light-touch, possibly playing with the connection between religion and women and the complex relation of power and control.
Pop Art: Contrasting colours, clean lines, and stylised bodies echo the Pop Art movement of the '50s and '60s. Like works by Roy Lichtenstein, Lebourgeois builds humour, irony, and recognisable imagery into her images. The work reflects where we are at today, and the viewer can only be pulled in.
Lebourgeois’ female characters are rebellious, free, and united; there is no anger but an intensity that embodies the reality of many women’s lives. The global climate around women’s rights feels regressive, but standing alongside Lebourgeois ladies brings humour, insight, and courage to what can be a difficult topic.
Delphine Lebourgeois is a French artist based in London who studied Fine Art at École des Beaux-Arts de Lyon and completed her Master's at Central Saint Martins in London. Her work explores the realm of human psychology whilst questioning illustrative and fine art traditions. She is interested in popular culture, fairy tales and storytelling. Her work has been featured in The Guardian, Vogue, Time Out, Stylist and Soho House, amongst others.
We hear more from the artist below…
Your latest series is called “Play”. What does play mean to you?
Retaining childhood is part of creativity; you need to be playful in creativity. It’s also being mischievous- that’s part of being a kid, really. That’s what I wanted to get at in the new series.
Tell me about your childhood and how it has impacted your work.
There’s so much of us in our childhood. When I was ten, I was bullied by older boys at school, and this had a particular impact, I think. It was just one year, the last year of primary school. I watched a lot of anime and superhero films at that time, and imagined them rescuing me. There’s a link to all the armies I create, of protecting that child and inner child in my work. There was She-Ra and He-Man - Musclor in French. He was so strong! It was escapism for me, and storytelling was super important. All I had were books and TV.
What are some ways you still play as an adult?
Cold water swimming at the lido! There’s definitely something playful about it. And in my work, of course. Collage is always playful, but at the moment, I’m playing and exploring with other materials, like jewel stickers. The pink as well – it’s my favourite colour. I must admit that, because I’m making a living out of it, the gratuitous playfulness can sometimes be lost. The carefree element is gone because there’s a business attached to it. But sometimes I need to create images I know will not be the most popular, because it’s important to me.
What role does religion have to play in this series?
I went to a Catholic school and was brought up by nuns, so this series is my take on that. There needs to be a bit of humour to it. I was very religious until I was eighteen – then I studied philosophy and I lost all of it in one go. I read [Jean-Paul] Sartre, existentialism, and his whole philosophy made me lose God. I felt very alone after that. When you have Him, you have someone to protect you, you have guidance. I lost that very suddenly.
What about the other symbols in your work? The Greek statue, for instance, or space?
The Greek statue is a bit like popular art reappropriating classicism. For me, it’s about mixing genres – anime, comic books, and a classical aesthetic. It’s a collage, a juxtaposition of styles and eras. Space is really specific to this series, and it’s because I’ve been watching a lot of anime set in space recently. One called Space Dandy is sensational - it’s so wacky, and the colours and drawings are phenomenal. Sci-fi is incredibly important to me, and space is infinite and quite terrifying.
Some of your characters are actually quite terrifying – does fear have a role to play in your work?
This is quite interesting because I never meant for them to be scary. Maybe I don’t know how to draw! But my work is very feminist, and I like the idea of strong women who are scary because they are not pretty. The artist Roxana Halls paints these laughing women with a mouth full of terrifying teeth, but I love them. This idea is that women are not here to be pleasing, meek, and pretty. So it’s not even intentional, but I’m happy that some of my women are scary. That’s a culture I want to be a part of. Some of my women are still beautiful, but I like that many of them also eat butterflies and birds [in series Delicacies]. It’s women devouring life – and I’m here for it.
Delphine Lebourgeois’ new show, Play, opened at Broadworks (22 April- 5 May). Sixteen works on paper cover the walls of the quiet gallery, contrasting with the hustle and bustle of Liverpool Street. Lebourgeois’ creative playfulness and her (sometimes irreverent) ode to art and freedom operates at full force in Play - 6 details to look out for…
The more you look, the more you see: Absorbing each drawing requires standing still for a moment, and letting each detail appear before your eyes. In Warrior with Buzz Hive (2024) the eye first meets a woman wearing a dress, but a few seconds’ studying of the image allows details to appear, and the image is nothing short of morphing before the viewer’s eyes, from tiny dinosaurs to secret lighters.
The ‘right’ femininity? A smoking lady in a sea of pink bubbles Ball Pool (2025) greets the viewer at the door. Like many of the exhibition’s ladies, who have buzzed hair or tattoos, she dons red lips and painted nails, potentially a stance against the sometimes perverse, always demanding beauty standards of the ‘no-makeup-makeup’ and ‘effortless beauty’, while smoking is still seen as masculine by many.
Life and stone: In Cinema (2025), a woman floats in a sea of marble statues - the woman is the only living being, whereas her Davidian counterparts remain of stone - a reflection on the energy and life which thrives within women?
Idleness: Some ladies seem idle or deep in thought, a recurring theme in Lebourgeois’ work as seen in Smoke II (Pink)(2025). These moments of peace encourage the viewer to imagine the potential chaos lying just outside the drawing’s boundaries. The ladies relax in their baths or their bodies - a well-deserved break from society’s expectations around the multitasking, ever-productive woman? Can we ever be at rest?
A(wo)men: Religious imagery is subtly wound into the artwork in the form of nuns and angels for example in Epiphany (2025). Religious visuals can be heavy-handed, but Lebourgeois avoids the convention trap and remains light-touch, possibly playing with the connection between religion and women and the complex relation of power and control.
Pop Art: Contrasting colours, clean lines, and stylised bodies echo the Pop Art movement of the '50s and '60s. Like works by Roy Lichtenstein, Lebourgeois builds humour, irony, and recognisable imagery into her images. The work reflects where we are at today, and the viewer can only be pulled in.
Lebourgeois’ female characters are rebellious, free, and united; there is no anger but an intensity that embodies the reality of many women’s lives. The global climate around women’s rights feels regressive, but standing alongside Lebourgeois ladies brings humour, insight, and courage to what can be a difficult topic.
Delphine Lebourgeois is a French artist based in London who studied Fine Art at École des Beaux-Arts de Lyon and completed her Master's at Central Saint Martins in London. Her work explores the realm of human psychology whilst questioning illustrative and fine art traditions. She is interested in popular culture, fairy tales and storytelling. Her work has been featured in The Guardian, Vogue, Time Out, Stylist and Soho House, amongst others.
We hear more from the artist below…
Your latest series is called “Play”. What does play mean to you?
Retaining childhood is part of creativity; you need to be playful in creativity. It’s also being mischievous- that’s part of being a kid, really. That’s what I wanted to get at in the new series.
Tell me about your childhood and how it has impacted your work.
There’s so much of us in our childhood. When I was ten, I was bullied by older boys at school, and this had a particular impact, I think. It was just one year, the last year of primary school. I watched a lot of anime and superhero films at that time, and imagined them rescuing me. There’s a link to all the armies I create, of protecting that child and inner child in my work. There was She-Ra and He-Man - Musclor in French. He was so strong! It was escapism for me, and storytelling was super important. All I had were books and TV.
What are some ways you still play as an adult?
Cold water swimming at the lido! There’s definitely something playful about it. And in my work, of course. Collage is always playful, but at the moment, I’m playing and exploring with other materials, like jewel stickers. The pink as well – it’s my favourite colour. I must admit that, because I’m making a living out of it, the gratuitous playfulness can sometimes be lost. The carefree element is gone because there’s a business attached to it. But sometimes I need to create images I know will not be the most popular, because it’s important to me.
What role does religion have to play in this series?
I went to a Catholic school and was brought up by nuns, so this series is my take on that. There needs to be a bit of humour to it. I was very religious until I was eighteen – then I studied philosophy and I lost all of it in one go. I read [Jean-Paul] Sartre, existentialism, and his whole philosophy made me lose God. I felt very alone after that. When you have Him, you have someone to protect you, you have guidance. I lost that very suddenly.
What about the other symbols in your work? The Greek statue, for instance, or space?
The Greek statue is a bit like popular art reappropriating classicism. For me, it’s about mixing genres – anime, comic books, and a classical aesthetic. It’s a collage, a juxtaposition of styles and eras. Space is really specific to this series, and it’s because I’ve been watching a lot of anime set in space recently. One called Space Dandy is sensational - it’s so wacky, and the colours and drawings are phenomenal. Sci-fi is incredibly important to me, and space is infinite and quite terrifying.
Some of your characters are actually quite terrifying – does fear have a role to play in your work?
This is quite interesting because I never meant for them to be scary. Maybe I don’t know how to draw! But my work is very feminist, and I like the idea of strong women who are scary because they are not pretty. The artist Roxana Halls paints these laughing women with a mouth full of terrifying teeth, but I love them. This idea is that women are not here to be pleasing, meek, and pretty. So it’s not even intentional, but I’m happy that some of my women are scary. That’s a culture I want to be a part of. Some of my women are still beautiful, but I like that many of them also eat butterflies and birds [in series Delicacies]. It’s women devouring life – and I’m here for it.
Delphine Lebourgeois’ new show, Play, opened at Broadworks (22 April- 5 May). Sixteen works on paper cover the walls of the quiet gallery, contrasting with the hustle and bustle of Liverpool Street. Lebourgeois’ creative playfulness and her (sometimes irreverent) ode to art and freedom operates at full force in Play - 6 details to look out for…
The more you look, the more you see: Absorbing each drawing requires standing still for a moment, and letting each detail appear before your eyes. In Warrior with Buzz Hive (2024) the eye first meets a woman wearing a dress, but a few seconds’ studying of the image allows details to appear, and the image is nothing short of morphing before the viewer’s eyes, from tiny dinosaurs to secret lighters.
The ‘right’ femininity? A smoking lady in a sea of pink bubbles Ball Pool (2025) greets the viewer at the door. Like many of the exhibition’s ladies, who have buzzed hair or tattoos, she dons red lips and painted nails, potentially a stance against the sometimes perverse, always demanding beauty standards of the ‘no-makeup-makeup’ and ‘effortless beauty’, while smoking is still seen as masculine by many.
Life and stone: In Cinema (2025), a woman floats in a sea of marble statues - the woman is the only living being, whereas her Davidian counterparts remain of stone - a reflection on the energy and life which thrives within women?
Idleness: Some ladies seem idle or deep in thought, a recurring theme in Lebourgeois’ work as seen in Smoke II (Pink)(2025). These moments of peace encourage the viewer to imagine the potential chaos lying just outside the drawing’s boundaries. The ladies relax in their baths or their bodies - a well-deserved break from society’s expectations around the multitasking, ever-productive woman? Can we ever be at rest?
A(wo)men: Religious imagery is subtly wound into the artwork in the form of nuns and angels for example in Epiphany (2025). Religious visuals can be heavy-handed, but Lebourgeois avoids the convention trap and remains light-touch, possibly playing with the connection between religion and women and the complex relation of power and control.
Pop Art: Contrasting colours, clean lines, and stylised bodies echo the Pop Art movement of the '50s and '60s. Like works by Roy Lichtenstein, Lebourgeois builds humour, irony, and recognisable imagery into her images. The work reflects where we are at today, and the viewer can only be pulled in.
Lebourgeois’ female characters are rebellious, free, and united; there is no anger but an intensity that embodies the reality of many women’s lives. The global climate around women’s rights feels regressive, but standing alongside Lebourgeois ladies brings humour, insight, and courage to what can be a difficult topic.
Delphine Lebourgeois is a French artist based in London who studied Fine Art at École des Beaux-Arts de Lyon and completed her Master's at Central Saint Martins in London. Her work explores the realm of human psychology whilst questioning illustrative and fine art traditions. She is interested in popular culture, fairy tales and storytelling. Her work has been featured in The Guardian, Vogue, Time Out, Stylist and Soho House, amongst others.
We hear more from the artist below…
Your latest series is called “Play”. What does play mean to you?
Retaining childhood is part of creativity; you need to be playful in creativity. It’s also being mischievous- that’s part of being a kid, really. That’s what I wanted to get at in the new series.
Tell me about your childhood and how it has impacted your work.
There’s so much of us in our childhood. When I was ten, I was bullied by older boys at school, and this had a particular impact, I think. It was just one year, the last year of primary school. I watched a lot of anime and superhero films at that time, and imagined them rescuing me. There’s a link to all the armies I create, of protecting that child and inner child in my work. There was She-Ra and He-Man - Musclor in French. He was so strong! It was escapism for me, and storytelling was super important. All I had were books and TV.
What are some ways you still play as an adult?
Cold water swimming at the lido! There’s definitely something playful about it. And in my work, of course. Collage is always playful, but at the moment, I’m playing and exploring with other materials, like jewel stickers. The pink as well – it’s my favourite colour. I must admit that, because I’m making a living out of it, the gratuitous playfulness can sometimes be lost. The carefree element is gone because there’s a business attached to it. But sometimes I need to create images I know will not be the most popular, because it’s important to me.
What role does religion have to play in this series?
I went to a Catholic school and was brought up by nuns, so this series is my take on that. There needs to be a bit of humour to it. I was very religious until I was eighteen – then I studied philosophy and I lost all of it in one go. I read [Jean-Paul] Sartre, existentialism, and his whole philosophy made me lose God. I felt very alone after that. When you have Him, you have someone to protect you, you have guidance. I lost that very suddenly.
What about the other symbols in your work? The Greek statue, for instance, or space?
The Greek statue is a bit like popular art reappropriating classicism. For me, it’s about mixing genres – anime, comic books, and a classical aesthetic. It’s a collage, a juxtaposition of styles and eras. Space is really specific to this series, and it’s because I’ve been watching a lot of anime set in space recently. One called Space Dandy is sensational - it’s so wacky, and the colours and drawings are phenomenal. Sci-fi is incredibly important to me, and space is infinite and quite terrifying.
Some of your characters are actually quite terrifying – does fear have a role to play in your work?
This is quite interesting because I never meant for them to be scary. Maybe I don’t know how to draw! But my work is very feminist, and I like the idea of strong women who are scary because they are not pretty. The artist Roxana Halls paints these laughing women with a mouth full of terrifying teeth, but I love them. This idea is that women are not here to be pleasing, meek, and pretty. So it’s not even intentional, but I’m happy that some of my women are scary. That’s a culture I want to be a part of. Some of my women are still beautiful, but I like that many of them also eat butterflies and birds [in series Delicacies]. It’s women devouring life – and I’m here for it.
Delphine Lebourgeois’ new show, Play, opened at Broadworks (22 April- 5 May). Sixteen works on paper cover the walls of the quiet gallery, contrasting with the hustle and bustle of Liverpool Street. Lebourgeois’ creative playfulness and her (sometimes irreverent) ode to art and freedom operates at full force in Play - 6 details to look out for…
The more you look, the more you see: Absorbing each drawing requires standing still for a moment, and letting each detail appear before your eyes. In Warrior with Buzz Hive (2024) the eye first meets a woman wearing a dress, but a few seconds’ studying of the image allows details to appear, and the image is nothing short of morphing before the viewer’s eyes, from tiny dinosaurs to secret lighters.
The ‘right’ femininity? A smoking lady in a sea of pink bubbles Ball Pool (2025) greets the viewer at the door. Like many of the exhibition’s ladies, who have buzzed hair or tattoos, she dons red lips and painted nails, potentially a stance against the sometimes perverse, always demanding beauty standards of the ‘no-makeup-makeup’ and ‘effortless beauty’, while smoking is still seen as masculine by many.
Life and stone: In Cinema (2025), a woman floats in a sea of marble statues - the woman is the only living being, whereas her Davidian counterparts remain of stone - a reflection on the energy and life which thrives within women?
Idleness: Some ladies seem idle or deep in thought, a recurring theme in Lebourgeois’ work as seen in Smoke II (Pink)(2025). These moments of peace encourage the viewer to imagine the potential chaos lying just outside the drawing’s boundaries. The ladies relax in their baths or their bodies - a well-deserved break from society’s expectations around the multitasking, ever-productive woman? Can we ever be at rest?
A(wo)men: Religious imagery is subtly wound into the artwork in the form of nuns and angels for example in Epiphany (2025). Religious visuals can be heavy-handed, but Lebourgeois avoids the convention trap and remains light-touch, possibly playing with the connection between religion and women and the complex relation of power and control.
Pop Art: Contrasting colours, clean lines, and stylised bodies echo the Pop Art movement of the '50s and '60s. Like works by Roy Lichtenstein, Lebourgeois builds humour, irony, and recognisable imagery into her images. The work reflects where we are at today, and the viewer can only be pulled in.
Lebourgeois’ female characters are rebellious, free, and united; there is no anger but an intensity that embodies the reality of many women’s lives. The global climate around women’s rights feels regressive, but standing alongside Lebourgeois ladies brings humour, insight, and courage to what can be a difficult topic.
Delphine Lebourgeois is a French artist based in London who studied Fine Art at École des Beaux-Arts de Lyon and completed her Master's at Central Saint Martins in London. Her work explores the realm of human psychology whilst questioning illustrative and fine art traditions. She is interested in popular culture, fairy tales and storytelling. Her work has been featured in The Guardian, Vogue, Time Out, Stylist and Soho House, amongst others.
We hear more from the artist below…
Your latest series is called “Play”. What does play mean to you?
Retaining childhood is part of creativity; you need to be playful in creativity. It’s also being mischievous- that’s part of being a kid, really. That’s what I wanted to get at in the new series.
Tell me about your childhood and how it has impacted your work.
There’s so much of us in our childhood. When I was ten, I was bullied by older boys at school, and this had a particular impact, I think. It was just one year, the last year of primary school. I watched a lot of anime and superhero films at that time, and imagined them rescuing me. There’s a link to all the armies I create, of protecting that child and inner child in my work. There was She-Ra and He-Man - Musclor in French. He was so strong! It was escapism for me, and storytelling was super important. All I had were books and TV.
What are some ways you still play as an adult?
Cold water swimming at the lido! There’s definitely something playful about it. And in my work, of course. Collage is always playful, but at the moment, I’m playing and exploring with other materials, like jewel stickers. The pink as well – it’s my favourite colour. I must admit that, because I’m making a living out of it, the gratuitous playfulness can sometimes be lost. The carefree element is gone because there’s a business attached to it. But sometimes I need to create images I know will not be the most popular, because it’s important to me.
What role does religion have to play in this series?
I went to a Catholic school and was brought up by nuns, so this series is my take on that. There needs to be a bit of humour to it. I was very religious until I was eighteen – then I studied philosophy and I lost all of it in one go. I read [Jean-Paul] Sartre, existentialism, and his whole philosophy made me lose God. I felt very alone after that. When you have Him, you have someone to protect you, you have guidance. I lost that very suddenly.
What about the other symbols in your work? The Greek statue, for instance, or space?
The Greek statue is a bit like popular art reappropriating classicism. For me, it’s about mixing genres – anime, comic books, and a classical aesthetic. It’s a collage, a juxtaposition of styles and eras. Space is really specific to this series, and it’s because I’ve been watching a lot of anime set in space recently. One called Space Dandy is sensational - it’s so wacky, and the colours and drawings are phenomenal. Sci-fi is incredibly important to me, and space is infinite and quite terrifying.
Some of your characters are actually quite terrifying – does fear have a role to play in your work?
This is quite interesting because I never meant for them to be scary. Maybe I don’t know how to draw! But my work is very feminist, and I like the idea of strong women who are scary because they are not pretty. The artist Roxana Halls paints these laughing women with a mouth full of terrifying teeth, but I love them. This idea is that women are not here to be pleasing, meek, and pretty. So it’s not even intentional, but I’m happy that some of my women are scary. That’s a culture I want to be a part of. Some of my women are still beautiful, but I like that many of them also eat butterflies and birds [in series Delicacies]. It’s women devouring life – and I’m here for it.
Delphine Lebourgeois’ new show, Play, opened at Broadworks (22 April- 5 May). Sixteen works on paper cover the walls of the quiet gallery, contrasting with the hustle and bustle of Liverpool Street. Lebourgeois’ creative playfulness and her (sometimes irreverent) ode to art and freedom operates at full force in Play - 6 details to look out for…
The more you look, the more you see: Absorbing each drawing requires standing still for a moment, and letting each detail appear before your eyes. In Warrior with Buzz Hive (2024) the eye first meets a woman wearing a dress, but a few seconds’ studying of the image allows details to appear, and the image is nothing short of morphing before the viewer’s eyes, from tiny dinosaurs to secret lighters.
The ‘right’ femininity? A smoking lady in a sea of pink bubbles Ball Pool (2025) greets the viewer at the door. Like many of the exhibition’s ladies, who have buzzed hair or tattoos, she dons red lips and painted nails, potentially a stance against the sometimes perverse, always demanding beauty standards of the ‘no-makeup-makeup’ and ‘effortless beauty’, while smoking is still seen as masculine by many.
Life and stone: In Cinema (2025), a woman floats in a sea of marble statues - the woman is the only living being, whereas her Davidian counterparts remain of stone - a reflection on the energy and life which thrives within women?
Idleness: Some ladies seem idle or deep in thought, a recurring theme in Lebourgeois’ work as seen in Smoke II (Pink)(2025). These moments of peace encourage the viewer to imagine the potential chaos lying just outside the drawing’s boundaries. The ladies relax in their baths or their bodies - a well-deserved break from society’s expectations around the multitasking, ever-productive woman? Can we ever be at rest?
A(wo)men: Religious imagery is subtly wound into the artwork in the form of nuns and angels for example in Epiphany (2025). Religious visuals can be heavy-handed, but Lebourgeois avoids the convention trap and remains light-touch, possibly playing with the connection between religion and women and the complex relation of power and control.
Pop Art: Contrasting colours, clean lines, and stylised bodies echo the Pop Art movement of the '50s and '60s. Like works by Roy Lichtenstein, Lebourgeois builds humour, irony, and recognisable imagery into her images. The work reflects where we are at today, and the viewer can only be pulled in.
Lebourgeois’ female characters are rebellious, free, and united; there is no anger but an intensity that embodies the reality of many women’s lives. The global climate around women’s rights feels regressive, but standing alongside Lebourgeois ladies brings humour, insight, and courage to what can be a difficult topic.
Delphine Lebourgeois is a French artist based in London who studied Fine Art at École des Beaux-Arts de Lyon and completed her Master's at Central Saint Martins in London. Her work explores the realm of human psychology whilst questioning illustrative and fine art traditions. She is interested in popular culture, fairy tales and storytelling. Her work has been featured in The Guardian, Vogue, Time Out, Stylist and Soho House, amongst others.
We hear more from the artist below…
Your latest series is called “Play”. What does play mean to you?
Retaining childhood is part of creativity; you need to be playful in creativity. It’s also being mischievous- that’s part of being a kid, really. That’s what I wanted to get at in the new series.
Tell me about your childhood and how it has impacted your work.
There’s so much of us in our childhood. When I was ten, I was bullied by older boys at school, and this had a particular impact, I think. It was just one year, the last year of primary school. I watched a lot of anime and superhero films at that time, and imagined them rescuing me. There’s a link to all the armies I create, of protecting that child and inner child in my work. There was She-Ra and He-Man - Musclor in French. He was so strong! It was escapism for me, and storytelling was super important. All I had were books and TV.
What are some ways you still play as an adult?
Cold water swimming at the lido! There’s definitely something playful about it. And in my work, of course. Collage is always playful, but at the moment, I’m playing and exploring with other materials, like jewel stickers. The pink as well – it’s my favourite colour. I must admit that, because I’m making a living out of it, the gratuitous playfulness can sometimes be lost. The carefree element is gone because there’s a business attached to it. But sometimes I need to create images I know will not be the most popular, because it’s important to me.
What role does religion have to play in this series?
I went to a Catholic school and was brought up by nuns, so this series is my take on that. There needs to be a bit of humour to it. I was very religious until I was eighteen – then I studied philosophy and I lost all of it in one go. I read [Jean-Paul] Sartre, existentialism, and his whole philosophy made me lose God. I felt very alone after that. When you have Him, you have someone to protect you, you have guidance. I lost that very suddenly.
What about the other symbols in your work? The Greek statue, for instance, or space?
The Greek statue is a bit like popular art reappropriating classicism. For me, it’s about mixing genres – anime, comic books, and a classical aesthetic. It’s a collage, a juxtaposition of styles and eras. Space is really specific to this series, and it’s because I’ve been watching a lot of anime set in space recently. One called Space Dandy is sensational - it’s so wacky, and the colours and drawings are phenomenal. Sci-fi is incredibly important to me, and space is infinite and quite terrifying.
Some of your characters are actually quite terrifying – does fear have a role to play in your work?
This is quite interesting because I never meant for them to be scary. Maybe I don’t know how to draw! But my work is very feminist, and I like the idea of strong women who are scary because they are not pretty. The artist Roxana Halls paints these laughing women with a mouth full of terrifying teeth, but I love them. This idea is that women are not here to be pleasing, meek, and pretty. So it’s not even intentional, but I’m happy that some of my women are scary. That’s a culture I want to be a part of. Some of my women are still beautiful, but I like that many of them also eat butterflies and birds [in series Delicacies]. It’s women devouring life – and I’m here for it.
Delphine Lebourgeois’ new show, Play, opened at Broadworks (22 April- 5 May). Sixteen works on paper cover the walls of the quiet gallery, contrasting with the hustle and bustle of Liverpool Street. Lebourgeois’ creative playfulness and her (sometimes irreverent) ode to art and freedom operates at full force in Play - 6 details to look out for…
The more you look, the more you see: Absorbing each drawing requires standing still for a moment, and letting each detail appear before your eyes. In Warrior with Buzz Hive (2024) the eye first meets a woman wearing a dress, but a few seconds’ studying of the image allows details to appear, and the image is nothing short of morphing before the viewer’s eyes, from tiny dinosaurs to secret lighters.
The ‘right’ femininity? A smoking lady in a sea of pink bubbles Ball Pool (2025) greets the viewer at the door. Like many of the exhibition’s ladies, who have buzzed hair or tattoos, she dons red lips and painted nails, potentially a stance against the sometimes perverse, always demanding beauty standards of the ‘no-makeup-makeup’ and ‘effortless beauty’, while smoking is still seen as masculine by many.
Life and stone: In Cinema (2025), a woman floats in a sea of marble statues - the woman is the only living being, whereas her Davidian counterparts remain of stone - a reflection on the energy and life which thrives within women?
Idleness: Some ladies seem idle or deep in thought, a recurring theme in Lebourgeois’ work as seen in Smoke II (Pink)(2025). These moments of peace encourage the viewer to imagine the potential chaos lying just outside the drawing’s boundaries. The ladies relax in their baths or their bodies - a well-deserved break from society’s expectations around the multitasking, ever-productive woman? Can we ever be at rest?
A(wo)men: Religious imagery is subtly wound into the artwork in the form of nuns and angels for example in Epiphany (2025). Religious visuals can be heavy-handed, but Lebourgeois avoids the convention trap and remains light-touch, possibly playing with the connection between religion and women and the complex relation of power and control.
Pop Art: Contrasting colours, clean lines, and stylised bodies echo the Pop Art movement of the '50s and '60s. Like works by Roy Lichtenstein, Lebourgeois builds humour, irony, and recognisable imagery into her images. The work reflects where we are at today, and the viewer can only be pulled in.
Lebourgeois’ female characters are rebellious, free, and united; there is no anger but an intensity that embodies the reality of many women’s lives. The global climate around women’s rights feels regressive, but standing alongside Lebourgeois ladies brings humour, insight, and courage to what can be a difficult topic.
Delphine Lebourgeois is a French artist based in London who studied Fine Art at École des Beaux-Arts de Lyon and completed her Master's at Central Saint Martins in London. Her work explores the realm of human psychology whilst questioning illustrative and fine art traditions. She is interested in popular culture, fairy tales and storytelling. Her work has been featured in The Guardian, Vogue, Time Out, Stylist and Soho House, amongst others.
We hear more from the artist below…
Your latest series is called “Play”. What does play mean to you?
Retaining childhood is part of creativity; you need to be playful in creativity. It’s also being mischievous- that’s part of being a kid, really. That’s what I wanted to get at in the new series.
Tell me about your childhood and how it has impacted your work.
There’s so much of us in our childhood. When I was ten, I was bullied by older boys at school, and this had a particular impact, I think. It was just one year, the last year of primary school. I watched a lot of anime and superhero films at that time, and imagined them rescuing me. There’s a link to all the armies I create, of protecting that child and inner child in my work. There was She-Ra and He-Man - Musclor in French. He was so strong! It was escapism for me, and storytelling was super important. All I had were books and TV.
What are some ways you still play as an adult?
Cold water swimming at the lido! There’s definitely something playful about it. And in my work, of course. Collage is always playful, but at the moment, I’m playing and exploring with other materials, like jewel stickers. The pink as well – it’s my favourite colour. I must admit that, because I’m making a living out of it, the gratuitous playfulness can sometimes be lost. The carefree element is gone because there’s a business attached to it. But sometimes I need to create images I know will not be the most popular, because it’s important to me.
What role does religion have to play in this series?
I went to a Catholic school and was brought up by nuns, so this series is my take on that. There needs to be a bit of humour to it. I was very religious until I was eighteen – then I studied philosophy and I lost all of it in one go. I read [Jean-Paul] Sartre, existentialism, and his whole philosophy made me lose God. I felt very alone after that. When you have Him, you have someone to protect you, you have guidance. I lost that very suddenly.
What about the other symbols in your work? The Greek statue, for instance, or space?
The Greek statue is a bit like popular art reappropriating classicism. For me, it’s about mixing genres – anime, comic books, and a classical aesthetic. It’s a collage, a juxtaposition of styles and eras. Space is really specific to this series, and it’s because I’ve been watching a lot of anime set in space recently. One called Space Dandy is sensational - it’s so wacky, and the colours and drawings are phenomenal. Sci-fi is incredibly important to me, and space is infinite and quite terrifying.
Some of your characters are actually quite terrifying – does fear have a role to play in your work?
This is quite interesting because I never meant for them to be scary. Maybe I don’t know how to draw! But my work is very feminist, and I like the idea of strong women who are scary because they are not pretty. The artist Roxana Halls paints these laughing women with a mouth full of terrifying teeth, but I love them. This idea is that women are not here to be pleasing, meek, and pretty. So it’s not even intentional, but I’m happy that some of my women are scary. That’s a culture I want to be a part of. Some of my women are still beautiful, but I like that many of them also eat butterflies and birds [in series Delicacies]. It’s women devouring life – and I’m here for it.
Delphine Lebourgeois’ new show, Play, opened at Broadworks (22 April- 5 May). Sixteen works on paper cover the walls of the quiet gallery, contrasting with the hustle and bustle of Liverpool Street. Lebourgeois’ creative playfulness and her (sometimes irreverent) ode to art and freedom operates at full force in Play - 6 details to look out for…
The more you look, the more you see: Absorbing each drawing requires standing still for a moment, and letting each detail appear before your eyes. In Warrior with Buzz Hive (2024) the eye first meets a woman wearing a dress, but a few seconds’ studying of the image allows details to appear, and the image is nothing short of morphing before the viewer’s eyes, from tiny dinosaurs to secret lighters.
The ‘right’ femininity? A smoking lady in a sea of pink bubbles Ball Pool (2025) greets the viewer at the door. Like many of the exhibition’s ladies, who have buzzed hair or tattoos, she dons red lips and painted nails, potentially a stance against the sometimes perverse, always demanding beauty standards of the ‘no-makeup-makeup’ and ‘effortless beauty’, while smoking is still seen as masculine by many.
Life and stone: In Cinema (2025), a woman floats in a sea of marble statues - the woman is the only living being, whereas her Davidian counterparts remain of stone - a reflection on the energy and life which thrives within women?
Idleness: Some ladies seem idle or deep in thought, a recurring theme in Lebourgeois’ work as seen in Smoke II (Pink)(2025). These moments of peace encourage the viewer to imagine the potential chaos lying just outside the drawing’s boundaries. The ladies relax in their baths or their bodies - a well-deserved break from society’s expectations around the multitasking, ever-productive woman? Can we ever be at rest?
A(wo)men: Religious imagery is subtly wound into the artwork in the form of nuns and angels for example in Epiphany (2025). Religious visuals can be heavy-handed, but Lebourgeois avoids the convention trap and remains light-touch, possibly playing with the connection between religion and women and the complex relation of power and control.
Pop Art: Contrasting colours, clean lines, and stylised bodies echo the Pop Art movement of the '50s and '60s. Like works by Roy Lichtenstein, Lebourgeois builds humour, irony, and recognisable imagery into her images. The work reflects where we are at today, and the viewer can only be pulled in.
Lebourgeois’ female characters are rebellious, free, and united; there is no anger but an intensity that embodies the reality of many women’s lives. The global climate around women’s rights feels regressive, but standing alongside Lebourgeois ladies brings humour, insight, and courage to what can be a difficult topic.
Delphine Lebourgeois is a French artist based in London who studied Fine Art at École des Beaux-Arts de Lyon and completed her Master's at Central Saint Martins in London. Her work explores the realm of human psychology whilst questioning illustrative and fine art traditions. She is interested in popular culture, fairy tales and storytelling. Her work has been featured in The Guardian, Vogue, Time Out, Stylist and Soho House, amongst others.
We hear more from the artist below…
Your latest series is called “Play”. What does play mean to you?
Retaining childhood is part of creativity; you need to be playful in creativity. It’s also being mischievous- that’s part of being a kid, really. That’s what I wanted to get at in the new series.
Tell me about your childhood and how it has impacted your work.
There’s so much of us in our childhood. When I was ten, I was bullied by older boys at school, and this had a particular impact, I think. It was just one year, the last year of primary school. I watched a lot of anime and superhero films at that time, and imagined them rescuing me. There’s a link to all the armies I create, of protecting that child and inner child in my work. There was She-Ra and He-Man - Musclor in French. He was so strong! It was escapism for me, and storytelling was super important. All I had were books and TV.
What are some ways you still play as an adult?
Cold water swimming at the lido! There’s definitely something playful about it. And in my work, of course. Collage is always playful, but at the moment, I’m playing and exploring with other materials, like jewel stickers. The pink as well – it’s my favourite colour. I must admit that, because I’m making a living out of it, the gratuitous playfulness can sometimes be lost. The carefree element is gone because there’s a business attached to it. But sometimes I need to create images I know will not be the most popular, because it’s important to me.
What role does religion have to play in this series?
I went to a Catholic school and was brought up by nuns, so this series is my take on that. There needs to be a bit of humour to it. I was very religious until I was eighteen – then I studied philosophy and I lost all of it in one go. I read [Jean-Paul] Sartre, existentialism, and his whole philosophy made me lose God. I felt very alone after that. When you have Him, you have someone to protect you, you have guidance. I lost that very suddenly.
What about the other symbols in your work? The Greek statue, for instance, or space?
The Greek statue is a bit like popular art reappropriating classicism. For me, it’s about mixing genres – anime, comic books, and a classical aesthetic. It’s a collage, a juxtaposition of styles and eras. Space is really specific to this series, and it’s because I’ve been watching a lot of anime set in space recently. One called Space Dandy is sensational - it’s so wacky, and the colours and drawings are phenomenal. Sci-fi is incredibly important to me, and space is infinite and quite terrifying.
Some of your characters are actually quite terrifying – does fear have a role to play in your work?
This is quite interesting because I never meant for them to be scary. Maybe I don’t know how to draw! But my work is very feminist, and I like the idea of strong women who are scary because they are not pretty. The artist Roxana Halls paints these laughing women with a mouth full of terrifying teeth, but I love them. This idea is that women are not here to be pleasing, meek, and pretty. So it’s not even intentional, but I’m happy that some of my women are scary. That’s a culture I want to be a part of. Some of my women are still beautiful, but I like that many of them also eat butterflies and birds [in series Delicacies]. It’s women devouring life – and I’m here for it.
Delphine Lebourgeois’ new show, Play, opened at Broadworks (22 April- 5 May). Sixteen works on paper cover the walls of the quiet gallery, contrasting with the hustle and bustle of Liverpool Street. Lebourgeois’ creative playfulness and her (sometimes irreverent) ode to art and freedom operates at full force in Play - 6 details to look out for…
The more you look, the more you see: Absorbing each drawing requires standing still for a moment, and letting each detail appear before your eyes. In Warrior with Buzz Hive (2024) the eye first meets a woman wearing a dress, but a few seconds’ studying of the image allows details to appear, and the image is nothing short of morphing before the viewer’s eyes, from tiny dinosaurs to secret lighters.
The ‘right’ femininity? A smoking lady in a sea of pink bubbles Ball Pool (2025) greets the viewer at the door. Like many of the exhibition’s ladies, who have buzzed hair or tattoos, she dons red lips and painted nails, potentially a stance against the sometimes perverse, always demanding beauty standards of the ‘no-makeup-makeup’ and ‘effortless beauty’, while smoking is still seen as masculine by many.
Life and stone: In Cinema (2025), a woman floats in a sea of marble statues - the woman is the only living being, whereas her Davidian counterparts remain of stone - a reflection on the energy and life which thrives within women?
Idleness: Some ladies seem idle or deep in thought, a recurring theme in Lebourgeois’ work as seen in Smoke II (Pink)(2025). These moments of peace encourage the viewer to imagine the potential chaos lying just outside the drawing’s boundaries. The ladies relax in their baths or their bodies - a well-deserved break from society’s expectations around the multitasking, ever-productive woman? Can we ever be at rest?
A(wo)men: Religious imagery is subtly wound into the artwork in the form of nuns and angels for example in Epiphany (2025). Religious visuals can be heavy-handed, but Lebourgeois avoids the convention trap and remains light-touch, possibly playing with the connection between religion and women and the complex relation of power and control.
Pop Art: Contrasting colours, clean lines, and stylised bodies echo the Pop Art movement of the '50s and '60s. Like works by Roy Lichtenstein, Lebourgeois builds humour, irony, and recognisable imagery into her images. The work reflects where we are at today, and the viewer can only be pulled in.
Lebourgeois’ female characters are rebellious, free, and united; there is no anger but an intensity that embodies the reality of many women’s lives. The global climate around women’s rights feels regressive, but standing alongside Lebourgeois ladies brings humour, insight, and courage to what can be a difficult topic.
Delphine Lebourgeois is a French artist based in London who studied Fine Art at École des Beaux-Arts de Lyon and completed her Master's at Central Saint Martins in London. Her work explores the realm of human psychology whilst questioning illustrative and fine art traditions. She is interested in popular culture, fairy tales and storytelling. Her work has been featured in The Guardian, Vogue, Time Out, Stylist and Soho House, amongst others.
We hear more from the artist below…
Your latest series is called “Play”. What does play mean to you?
Retaining childhood is part of creativity; you need to be playful in creativity. It’s also being mischievous- that’s part of being a kid, really. That’s what I wanted to get at in the new series.
Tell me about your childhood and how it has impacted your work.
There’s so much of us in our childhood. When I was ten, I was bullied by older boys at school, and this had a particular impact, I think. It was just one year, the last year of primary school. I watched a lot of anime and superhero films at that time, and imagined them rescuing me. There’s a link to all the armies I create, of protecting that child and inner child in my work. There was She-Ra and He-Man - Musclor in French. He was so strong! It was escapism for me, and storytelling was super important. All I had were books and TV.
What are some ways you still play as an adult?
Cold water swimming at the lido! There’s definitely something playful about it. And in my work, of course. Collage is always playful, but at the moment, I’m playing and exploring with other materials, like jewel stickers. The pink as well – it’s my favourite colour. I must admit that, because I’m making a living out of it, the gratuitous playfulness can sometimes be lost. The carefree element is gone because there’s a business attached to it. But sometimes I need to create images I know will not be the most popular, because it’s important to me.
What role does religion have to play in this series?
I went to a Catholic school and was brought up by nuns, so this series is my take on that. There needs to be a bit of humour to it. I was very religious until I was eighteen – then I studied philosophy and I lost all of it in one go. I read [Jean-Paul] Sartre, existentialism, and his whole philosophy made me lose God. I felt very alone after that. When you have Him, you have someone to protect you, you have guidance. I lost that very suddenly.
What about the other symbols in your work? The Greek statue, for instance, or space?
The Greek statue is a bit like popular art reappropriating classicism. For me, it’s about mixing genres – anime, comic books, and a classical aesthetic. It’s a collage, a juxtaposition of styles and eras. Space is really specific to this series, and it’s because I’ve been watching a lot of anime set in space recently. One called Space Dandy is sensational - it’s so wacky, and the colours and drawings are phenomenal. Sci-fi is incredibly important to me, and space is infinite and quite terrifying.
Some of your characters are actually quite terrifying – does fear have a role to play in your work?
This is quite interesting because I never meant for them to be scary. Maybe I don’t know how to draw! But my work is very feminist, and I like the idea of strong women who are scary because they are not pretty. The artist Roxana Halls paints these laughing women with a mouth full of terrifying teeth, but I love them. This idea is that women are not here to be pleasing, meek, and pretty. So it’s not even intentional, but I’m happy that some of my women are scary. That’s a culture I want to be a part of. Some of my women are still beautiful, but I like that many of them also eat butterflies and birds [in series Delicacies]. It’s women devouring life – and I’m here for it.
Delphine Lebourgeois’ new show, Play, opened at Broadworks (22 April- 5 May). Sixteen works on paper cover the walls of the quiet gallery, contrasting with the hustle and bustle of Liverpool Street. Lebourgeois’ creative playfulness and her (sometimes irreverent) ode to art and freedom operates at full force in Play - 6 details to look out for…
The more you look, the more you see: Absorbing each drawing requires standing still for a moment, and letting each detail appear before your eyes. In Warrior with Buzz Hive (2024) the eye first meets a woman wearing a dress, but a few seconds’ studying of the image allows details to appear, and the image is nothing short of morphing before the viewer’s eyes, from tiny dinosaurs to secret lighters.
The ‘right’ femininity? A smoking lady in a sea of pink bubbles Ball Pool (2025) greets the viewer at the door. Like many of the exhibition’s ladies, who have buzzed hair or tattoos, she dons red lips and painted nails, potentially a stance against the sometimes perverse, always demanding beauty standards of the ‘no-makeup-makeup’ and ‘effortless beauty’, while smoking is still seen as masculine by many.
Life and stone: In Cinema (2025), a woman floats in a sea of marble statues - the woman is the only living being, whereas her Davidian counterparts remain of stone - a reflection on the energy and life which thrives within women?
Idleness: Some ladies seem idle or deep in thought, a recurring theme in Lebourgeois’ work as seen in Smoke II (Pink)(2025). These moments of peace encourage the viewer to imagine the potential chaos lying just outside the drawing’s boundaries. The ladies relax in their baths or their bodies - a well-deserved break from society’s expectations around the multitasking, ever-productive woman? Can we ever be at rest?
A(wo)men: Religious imagery is subtly wound into the artwork in the form of nuns and angels for example in Epiphany (2025). Religious visuals can be heavy-handed, but Lebourgeois avoids the convention trap and remains light-touch, possibly playing with the connection between religion and women and the complex relation of power and control.
Pop Art: Contrasting colours, clean lines, and stylised bodies echo the Pop Art movement of the '50s and '60s. Like works by Roy Lichtenstein, Lebourgeois builds humour, irony, and recognisable imagery into her images. The work reflects where we are at today, and the viewer can only be pulled in.
Lebourgeois’ female characters are rebellious, free, and united; there is no anger but an intensity that embodies the reality of many women’s lives. The global climate around women’s rights feels regressive, but standing alongside Lebourgeois ladies brings humour, insight, and courage to what can be a difficult topic.
Delphine Lebourgeois is a French artist based in London who studied Fine Art at École des Beaux-Arts de Lyon and completed her Master's at Central Saint Martins in London. Her work explores the realm of human psychology whilst questioning illustrative and fine art traditions. She is interested in popular culture, fairy tales and storytelling. Her work has been featured in The Guardian, Vogue, Time Out, Stylist and Soho House, amongst others.
We hear more from the artist below…
Your latest series is called “Play”. What does play mean to you?
Retaining childhood is part of creativity; you need to be playful in creativity. It’s also being mischievous- that’s part of being a kid, really. That’s what I wanted to get at in the new series.
Tell me about your childhood and how it has impacted your work.
There’s so much of us in our childhood. When I was ten, I was bullied by older boys at school, and this had a particular impact, I think. It was just one year, the last year of primary school. I watched a lot of anime and superhero films at that time, and imagined them rescuing me. There’s a link to all the armies I create, of protecting that child and inner child in my work. There was She-Ra and He-Man - Musclor in French. He was so strong! It was escapism for me, and storytelling was super important. All I had were books and TV.
What are some ways you still play as an adult?
Cold water swimming at the lido! There’s definitely something playful about it. And in my work, of course. Collage is always playful, but at the moment, I’m playing and exploring with other materials, like jewel stickers. The pink as well – it’s my favourite colour. I must admit that, because I’m making a living out of it, the gratuitous playfulness can sometimes be lost. The carefree element is gone because there’s a business attached to it. But sometimes I need to create images I know will not be the most popular, because it’s important to me.
What role does religion have to play in this series?
I went to a Catholic school and was brought up by nuns, so this series is my take on that. There needs to be a bit of humour to it. I was very religious until I was eighteen – then I studied philosophy and I lost all of it in one go. I read [Jean-Paul] Sartre, existentialism, and his whole philosophy made me lose God. I felt very alone after that. When you have Him, you have someone to protect you, you have guidance. I lost that very suddenly.
What about the other symbols in your work? The Greek statue, for instance, or space?
The Greek statue is a bit like popular art reappropriating classicism. For me, it’s about mixing genres – anime, comic books, and a classical aesthetic. It’s a collage, a juxtaposition of styles and eras. Space is really specific to this series, and it’s because I’ve been watching a lot of anime set in space recently. One called Space Dandy is sensational - it’s so wacky, and the colours and drawings are phenomenal. Sci-fi is incredibly important to me, and space is infinite and quite terrifying.
Some of your characters are actually quite terrifying – does fear have a role to play in your work?
This is quite interesting because I never meant for them to be scary. Maybe I don’t know how to draw! But my work is very feminist, and I like the idea of strong women who are scary because they are not pretty. The artist Roxana Halls paints these laughing women with a mouth full of terrifying teeth, but I love them. This idea is that women are not here to be pleasing, meek, and pretty. So it’s not even intentional, but I’m happy that some of my women are scary. That’s a culture I want to be a part of. Some of my women are still beautiful, but I like that many of them also eat butterflies and birds [in series Delicacies]. It’s women devouring life – and I’m here for it.