Creative Couples: Leah Feldon and Rick Schlosser, Stitched Together By A Lifelong Pursuit Of Creative Expression

By Judith Jenya

In a sunlit home tucked into the hills of San Miguel de Allende, photographer and author Leah Feldon and drummer Rick Shlosser have built a life stitched together by passion, persistence, and a lifelong pursuit of creative expression. Their studios live on different floors—hers a light-filled space of painterly photographs of landscapes, abstracts, and flowers; his alive with drums, recording equipment, and gold records.

Together, they embody a creative partnership shaped not by similarity, but by shared curiosity.

Leah’s journey began far from México. Born in Texas, where her father was stationed during the war, she spent her childhood in New York and Connecticut before settling in South Florida. After earning a degree in art history from the University of Miami, she moved to New York City, determined to work in the art world.

Instead, fashion found her.

What began as a serendipitous job as a staff stylist soon evolved into a career as one of New York’s leading fashion stylists of the 1970s, working with major photographers, advertising agencies, and top models at a time when stylists were largely invisible. “It was a natural for me,” she says. “Fashion is essentially a combination of composition, shape, color, and texture—just another form of art. I loved it.” Her creative instincts soon extended beyond styling. Hoping to help “real women” navigate the pitfalls of fashion, she wrote WomanStyle (Crown Publishing, 1979), launching a second career as an author and television personality. She went on to write several bestselling books, including Dressing Rich and Does This Make Me Look Fat?, which gained wide attention after her appearance on The Oprah Winfrey Show. Leah also hosted television programs and co-authored health and lifestyle books with physicians, translating complex medical jargon into accessible language. “Doctors don’t talk human,” she joked.

Rick’s creative life unfolded to a different rhythm.

Born in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, and raised in Springfield, he discovered performance early—first through tap dancing, then trumpet, and eventually drums. A childhood accident that broke his front teeth ended his trumpet playing, leading him to focus entirely on percussion. After briefly studying science in college, he transferred to Berklee College of Music. Touring opportunities soon followed, and he left before completing his degree. Rick went on to become one of the most respected studio drummers of his era, recording and performing with artists including Van Morrison, Rod Stewart, and James Taylor. He played on Morrison’s Tupelo Honey, including “Wild Night,” and on Stewart’s “Tonight’s the Night.” At one point, four songs he performed on appeared simultaneously in Billboard’s Top 10.

Despite the glamour, he recalls the music business as unstable. “Unless you wrote the song or produced the record, you didn’t make much money,” he says. He ultimately chose stability over fame, turning down major touring opportunities to raise his son as a single father. His recording credits span decades and include artists such as Etta James, Lionel Richie, Joan Baez, and Diana Ross. The couple’s paths crossed years later through a mutual friend in California. Leah had already moved to San Miguel de Allende when Rick came to visit in 2006. Their friendship gradually deepened into partnership. Now married, their life together has settled into a kind of lived-in romance—rich with affection, humor, and the ease that comes from truly knowing one another.

“He’s a fabulous companion,” Leah says, “…and a great cook, too.” Their shared creative life continues quietly in México. Leah returned seriously to photography after moving to San Miguel, developing a style she describes as “semi-abstract and lyrical,” often inspired by nature. Her work has been exhibited at Bellas Artes and other galleries, and she now sells primarily by appointment from her studio. Rick continues to record and perform occasionally, though he prefers the intimacy of his home studio to the demands of touring. Both say San Miguel has transformed their understanding of community and aging.

“There’s still empathy and compassion here,” Rick says. “The culture is alive and vibrant—and people respect you for who you are, not what you have.” After surviving a life-threatening medical emergency two years ago, Rick reflects on creativity as the force that has carried him through uncertainty and loss. Leah, in what she calls this later chapter of life, continues to find meaning through art, travel, and human connection.

For this artistic pair, the spotlight may have dimmed from the center stages of New York fashion and Los Angeles recording studios. But in the quieter streets of San Miguel, their lives continue—still evolving, still curious, and still deeply intertwined.