Maxime Rokus

For this edition of Meet our riders, we meet Maxime Rokus: illustrator, painter and the intuitive eye behind Atelier RKS.

In our conversation, Maxime reflects on her shift from design to autonomous art, the influence of the city around her, and the balance she navigates within a life that is always in motion.

You made the switch from graphic design to autonomous art. How did you navigate this transition?

As a graphic designer, I mainly worked on commission. I’d receive a brief and had room to be creative within it, but the final outcome always had to be commercial and 'finished,' of course. In my autonomous work, that structure is completely thrown out the window. 

Now, my work is much more based on intuition. While painting, I simply start without a plan and see where it takes me, instinctively noticing when something feels right or not. Where I used to overthink things before, I now fully rely on my intuition.
 
What I have carried over from that design period is my sense of balance and composition. That provides structure, but within that structure, I allow myself to let go of everything. This contrast between stillness and spontaneity makes the creation process exciting.

Your studio is right in the heart of Amsterdam. How does this environment influence your daily work?

I’m very lucky to live in such a beautiful city. My cycling route from Zuid to the Keizersgracht is a delight every single day. I cycle past the Apollolaan, then the Concertgebouw, through the passage underneath the Rijksmuseum, and via the Spiegelgracht to my studio.
 
It’s a route full of contrasts. The wide avenues with their stately buildings gradually give way to the historical heart of the city, where everything becomes denser and more lively. Sometimes it feels like I’m cycling through a painting, especially in autumn, with the golden trees, the shimmering water, and that slight mist over the canals. 

The city constantly influences my work, even if it often goes unnoticed. In autumn, the light is softer, the air is yellower, and the canals are deeper in colour; you see that reflected in my palette. The hues I spot along the way naturally creep onto my canvases. My rhythm follows the light, and that feels very natural.

You’re in the thick of Amsterdam’s dynamic centre. Do you ever seek out calmer places outside the city to escape the hustle or find inspiration?

I'm originally from Arnhem, near the Veluwe, and I still go there occasionally to walk or just be outdoors. I know the most beautiful spots there: the forests where I used to walk with my parents, the heath that turns completely purple in summer, and the quiet walking paths where hardly anyone goes. Those places feel familiar and safe, a kind of counterpoint to the city’s bustle.
 
I don't need to consciously look for inspiration there; it comes naturally, precisely because I'm not thinking about anything. Things often just fall into place.

You recently became a mother. How do you find focus in your studio amidst the chaos at home, and how do you use the cycle ride between these worlds as a moment of transition?

I’ve found a nice rhythm: one day with Pablo, the next day in my studio. That works well for our balance. On studio days, recharge in the silence and smell of paint. Because I divide my time, I never feel like I have to combine things. In the studio, I am the maker; at home, I am just his mother.

Those twenty minutes cycling between home and the studio are invaluable to me. It’s my transition moment. It brings me calm after a busy morning or helps me let go of the work after an intense day. A bit of fresh air, no phone. This routine seems small, but it helps me to be fully present in both worlds.

Your favourite song for the journey?

Lately, I've been listening to a lot of Dutch music again, especially Bløf and Racoon. They are definitely my favourites. If I have to choose, I’ll go for Tijd Verliezen by Racoon.