Clarity in Colour: Yvonne Robert

I had the pleasure of spending the afternoon with Zurich based Artist Yvonne Robert in her light filled studio. Yvonne’s work is full of movement and emotion: bold in colour, yet thoughtful in composition. As we talked, it became clear how deeply she connects with her materials and process. We spoke about her early love of painting, the leap from graphic design to full-time art, and how clarity, colour, and rhythm guide everything she creates.

I’d love to start at the beginning. What first drew you to painting? Was there a moment early on that sparked your curiosity?

I knew that I wanted to be an artist since I was a child. That was always very clear for me. Both my parents were artists. But when I spoke to a professor at the art academy in Basel, he told me I was too young and should learn something else first. I was devastated initially but in the end I followed his advice, and in hindsight, it was actually really great guidance. This was before everything became digital. We did a lot of drawing and painting by hand, that’s how I ended up studying graphic design.

So you have a background in graphic design?

Yes, I worked as a graphic designer for 20 years. But during that time, I always had a studio. I’d go there once a week to paint. Then in 2018, I took a sabbatical. I didn’t have a burnout exactly, but I just lost all motivation. I couldn’t do it anymore: the corporate identity work, all of it. So I took four months off and painted at home, day and night. That’s when I started posting online, and within a week, I suddenly had around 10,000 followers.

How did it feel to go from working quietly in your studio to sudden success? Was it overwhelming?

Completely overwhelming. It was a huge shift in my life. It was a major turning point, both exciting and overwhelming. Leaving behind a stable role within a company wasn’t an easy decision, and not everyone around me understood it at first. But the desire to pursue a career as an artist had been with me for a long time, and in 2018, I decided to finally take that leap. That was the real beginning.

17/25 (Color Stack), 2025, 120 × 140 cm

Your sense of determination is incredibly inspiring. I see that same determination within your work, it feels precise yet also intuitive. How do you know when a composition is working? Can you tell when a piece is finished?

I can’t explain it exactly, but I just feel it. Sometimes I leave the studio and already know I’ll repaint it the next day. I just came across a quote from Jackson Pollock: “Something in me knows where I’m going.” It’s beautifully expressed, and I can relate it to the feeling of bringing a piece of work to completion.

And when you start a new work, do you already have a composition in mind? Or do you practise a lot of exploratory sketching beforehand?

I always create a lot of sketches. I have tons of them. It’s just the beginning, the starting point. Then I play around with different size and format groups. From there, I choose which small sketch I’ll paint on a large scale.

Yvonne Robert sketching in studio, 2025 © The Artist

You often speak about rhythm, proportion, and form as a kind of visual language. What role does repetition and movement play in your practice?

I think it’s beautiful when you can feel rhythm in a painting. Not just see it, but really feel it. Take someone like Ellsworth Kelly. I love his work: the composition, the shapes, everything, it’s perfect. I like the combination of that structure and freedom, but I also enjoy breaking it a little. Making it not too perfect.

Let’s talk about colour. When you work with it, is it more intuitive? Or do you plan your palettes in advance?

Colour is everything for me. It’s always on my mind, it's the most important theme. While I’m sketching, I’m thinking about how I feel that day. Do I want blue? Pink? I’m also influenced by the seasons: spring, summer, the light.

15/25 Summer (25/1), 2025, 120 × 100 cm

Similar to the seasons, let's touch on the environment.  Does it affect your work, whether you’re painting in Switzerland or the South of France for example?

Yes, I think it does. When I go to the sea or the mountains, I notice different colors, different light. But I don’t always realize what’s inspiring me in the moment. It usually comes afterward. I’ll be back in the studio, looking at my sketches, and suddenly I understand, "Ah, that blue… that was the mountain. That was the sea."

Let’s talk about this new phase: the colour stacking. What prompted this new direction?

I always struggled to decide which shapes to paint. I wanted the colours to speak for themselves, but how can you achieve that without it turning into something that feels like Rothko? So I had the idea: what if I just stack the colors, similar to Ellsworth Kelly. And even though I try not to create a “composition,” of course it still becomes one. I can’t help it, it’s always on my mind.

Speaking of Ellsworth Kelly and Rothko, who are your main artistic inspirations?

There are quite a few. From the older generation, definitely Matisse because he reminds me of my mother. She painted a bit like him. Then of course Helen Frankenthaler, Robert Motherwell, Joan Mitchell, Cy Twombly, and William de Kooning. The New York School… they’re really my heroes.

Their work is so prolific. I often wonder if we’ll ever see artists like that again. But maybe the issue is that we’re just so oversaturated now?

That’s true. And also, their time was so specific just after World War II. They had something huge to express. That gave them their energy, I think. Now, we’re in a different time with different challenges. But still, it's all connected.

13/25 (Pond), 2025, 180 × 140 cm

You often speak about clarity. What does clarity mean to you in the studio?

Clarity is something I enjoy and need. I like clarity in a painting, knowing where I stand with it. It helps me breathe. There’s no aggression, no sadness. Just a feeling of calm. It’s hard to explain, but it gives me energy. It’s like having a Buddha in the corner of your room. Everything falls into place.

And when you’re painting, do you find those other emotions; anger, uncertainty, still come through? Or do you try to keep the studio as a sacred space?

Of course I have all my moods. But maybe that’s why I seek clarity in the painting. Because then, everything has its place. And it helps me to settle, it brings me peace.

That makes perfect sense. It’s hard to separate the work from the self.

Exactly. I think every painter is painting their inner self.