In Greek mythology, Sisyphus, the existentialist anti-hero, is punished for being so full of himself that, as he valiantly rolls his rock up the mountainside, the Gods have it roll back down just as he nears the top, doomed to do it again and again forever with the same result. In his way, he’s the perfect absurdist saint for artists: Daily work in isolation, never reaching the end of the journey, valiantly continuing, despite the cost of supplies, the inability to make rent, or difficulty selling personal work that doesn’t involve landscapes.
Sisyphus is only featured in a single painting of Christian Ramirez’s solo show “The Gloaming” at Santa Ana’s The Painter’s Room—(La Lucha)—but his battle inspires the entire show. Silhouetted, almost overshadowed in comparison to the boulder three times his size, he is nearing the top of the mountain, projecting the illusion of success… but only if you don’t know the future. All of the artist’s oil canvases, many painted in dark earth tones glowing with a tinge of light at the edge, revel in the idea of struggle: Jutting cauliflower ears, moody eyeless faces, overgrown bulk and clenched fists indicating bodies that have evolved and thickened to survive their constant fighting—visual reminders that oppression isn’t a pretty picture. Acknowledging that reality, many of the portraits turn away from the viewer, not to hide those wounds from our sight, but to ask us to have the back of the centered figure. Facing the potentially threatening throngs with the character—all done without a trace of self-pity—offer the artist’s audience the armchair experience of being an ally.
That experience is not without its bloody ramifications, however: Skeletal remains litter other canvases as a running theme, supporting a flag made from a face, the stretched, tattered skin, cut-out eyes and mouth bringing to mind moments from Clive Barker’s Hellraiser (Bone Machine, Bone Flag and War Party). The no quarter-given brutality behind war becomes the precursor to startling images of bodies being reduced to grisly objets d’art–the collection of severed hands stacked before a yellow sunset in Bounty; the gory, detached mandible of Trophy; or the skull used as a candleholder in Emerald Flame—while others feature figures stomping on faces (Gladiators), standing near decapitated heads or, in an untitled Goya-esque work, intimately feasting on a limbless torso like it’s some kind of sexual snack.
This is the last Southern California show for Ramirez, at least for the next three years, as he heads east to teach and finish his MFA, making the twilight, dusky transitory moment between light and dark, day and night of the exhibition’s title apt. A full wall of preparatory sketches reinforce the idea of transition, giving us a variety of moments between inspiration and the final finished canvas. Yet, like the continuing protests all around us, Ramirez also offers the urgent promise of potential rapprochement of uncertain times, as his characters sit alone in the dark, lost in contemplation (La Tormenta), or standing together, sharing a look up at a shiny moon sphere glowing in the night.
“Christian Ramirez: The Gloaming” @ The Painter’s Room, Santora Arts Building, 207 N. Broadway B4, Santa Ana. Available for social-distanced and masked viewing, by appointment: thepaintersroomdtsa@gmail.com Thru July 18. Inexpensive metered parking nearby.
