Paul Henry Ramirez
Caren Golden Fine Art
- Marie-Adele Moniot -
Paul Henry Ramirez, CHUNK 4, 2007; acrylic on canvas; 48 x 48 inches
CHUNK 7, 2007; acrylic on canvas; 36 x 36 inches; images courtesy Caren Golden Fine Art, New York
If El Paso native Paul Henry Ramirez lived in the Garden of Eden instead of the urban noisescape that is New York City, his paintings might not evoke such candy-colored dreams of a faraway place. Chunk, his new suite of paintings at Caren Golden Fine Art, is a fantasy of flesh in keeping with the artist’s previous work but also infused with a new sensibility, which can be described as the longing for open space.
Ramirez’ familiar, sexualized, abstracted forms are evident throughout this recent work. In one painting—a large, rich, thickly layered map of biomorphic forms in green, white and black—supple white shapes feel pregnant, pulling downward, as if by time or gravity. Against a fertile green backdrop, these heavy forms rest on erect, black stamen in an arrangement that is at once fantastical and defiant. Here, color grounds each form, which is both domineering and overtly sensual.
In another canvas, a cherry red and sparkly grey/black color combination looks like it belongs on an invitation to a Sweet Sixteen party. Similarly, Ramirez adopts a juvenile perspective—a vantage point from which the body rules the mind but can still perform basic mechanical functions. He introduces parts and gears, mixed with luscious forms, to organize and order his sense of abstraction.
Ramirez’ work often toes the line between serious and self-mocking attitudes of—and toward—the forebears of abstraction. In another work, he paints organic forms next to horizontal stripes that look like decorative design elements circa 1984. These additions add a campy sensibility—artificial and frivolous—especially adjacent to stark black and white exchanges of bosomy forms and pushy phallic partners.
The show, as a whole, seems to segregate the human and natural worlds. This division exists in the physical space of the gallery, where the rear room is reserved for the latter, more precious fare. If the front gallery’s work is the male and female form rearranged, this smaller space is dedicated to exultations of nature. One painting in the rear space is really kinetic, with bonelike shapes crossed over a background of garish, leaping orange and pink paint.
The strongest piece in the show is also found in the cozy back gallery. In it, Ramirez abandons abstractions of the body altogether and moves towards a purely mechanical feel. The canvas seems cut or sliced in diagonal in which delicious sea-blue and green color fields mix. Like other work in the back gallery, this painting’s lines are broken and restored in irregular patterns, creating order from imperfection.
Ramirez always risks drifting towards the foolish in his work. His surfaces can operate as little more than shallow mirrors of the viewer’s basest desires. Like a campy film, his paintings often emphasize style over content in a way that is amusing but not necessarily thought-provoking. The element that saves the work from devolving into an infantile joke on modernism is color—glorious, delectable color. You practically want to eat this work, it looks so scrumptious, and there is nothing wrong with indulging such desires every now and then.
Marie-Adele Moniot is a freelance writer based in New York.
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