Sunday, July 29, 2018
The title of the show DECODE is thus open to a number of meanings. The basic premise is to make a juxtaposition between a modernist painting in the Ateneo Art Gallery collection and a new media work. The contemporary artist "decodes" the earlier work through a kind of digital analysis of it's components of color, light texture, etc., and reorganizes these into a new artistic existence. This is seen, for instance, in the relationship between Joya's Granadean Arabesque and Martin Gomez's D\ILAW, in which the elements are recomposed into grids of perpetually moving fragments, thus revealing the inner dynamics of the original abstract work.
But even more crucial is the difference in the very nature of existence of the juxtaposed works. Painting, of course, is a physically spatial art, spanning over predetermined two-dimensional surface. And sculpture is a three-dimensional art that occupies a relatively variable space. But these examples of new art redefine both space and time in the context of art. They occupy a different space because they belong to virtual reality--as it has been pointed out, a glitch in the power system would shut them out of existence, temporarily or even permanently. Thus, they are beguiling presences or seductive experiences, inviting interactivity or the part of the viewer: you reach out to the moving forms and they respond by cradling your hand or flying out of your grasp. But, at an external signal, they can so easily withdraw back to silences and darkness. They are the interweaving, surrounding presences, whispering or blaring simulacra that tease one's perception and put to question one's sense of reality. Likewise, they also redefine art, for while painting may bear allusions to time and its passage, these present examples run in actual time, may follow a linear narrative but more often are cyclical, multifocal and may continue ad infinitum. However, this sense of virtuality--of virtual volume, for instance--had been introduced earlier by the Russian Constructivist who rejected solid volume for virtual volume in their work's active engagement with space. And this principle was not valorized in a purely formalistic way but as a necessary element in the creation of a new visual language that sought to do justice to a modern technological environment.
New art technologies are stunningly displayed in the present show. Here, for instance is the printmaker Rodolfo Samonte juxtaposing his past and present work: Experimental Cube (1973) and Spheres of Time #2, a print (artist proof) that he did last year in the United States where he has been based for several years now. This work, visually engaging in terms of form and color, is an example of the digital technique of Giclee on canvas (white cotton duck). Though the 1973 work is much subdued in hue and controlled in form but with a satisfying clarity of disposition, one will hesitate to declare the new superior to the old, for the artist was but working then according to the modernist printmaking codes at that time. If the codes he uses in the new work are far different, he is only proving his excellence in his employment of the new digital language.
Monday, March 30, 2015
|:||Gridworks — Exhibition Invitation|
|:||Raymundo R. ALBANO, Joe BAUTISTA, Yoli LAUDICO, Raul LEBAJO, Arturo LUZ, Eva TOLEDO, Rodolfo SAMONTE, Phyllis ZABALLERO, Mario Yrisarry, Roberto CHABET, Prudencio Villamor LAMARROZA|
|:||Invitation to the exhibition 'Gridworks' curated by Rodolfo
Samonte at the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP) Small Gallery
from 4 - 31 April 1978.
The participating artists are Ray Albano, Joe Bautista, Roberto Chabet, Yoli Laudico, Prudencio Lamarroza, Raul Lebajo, Arturo Luz, Eva Toledo, Rodolfo Samonte, Mario Yrisarry, and Phyllis Zaballero.
|:||4 - 31 April 1978|
|:||Cultural Center of the Philippines Small Gallery (Pasay City - The Philippines)|
|:||Cultural Center of the Philippines (Pasay City - The Philippines)|
|:||Cultural Center of the Philippines|
|:||©Free Access - no-reuse|
Primer Acto / First Act
AUGUST 24TH-NOVEMBER 15TH 2012
This exhibition takes as its starting point the moment when the museum’s “curtain” re-opens at its re-inauguration ceremomy. Primer Acto (First Act) uses this event’s social and political aspect to problematize the museum’s function in relation to the spectator, the artwork, space and critique. By employing rhetorical elements of the history of painting and theatrical representation—such as the mirror and the curtain—it shows the link between expectations raised before any act or exhibition and what we see actually reflected on these stages. Also, various works critique and question the institution as a system that wields power over the public by defining a specific understanding and approach to art.
Mark Benson / Stefan Brüggemann / André Cadere / Tacita Dean / Thomas Demand / Ceal Floyer / Lucio Fontana / Andrea Fraser / Douglas Gordon / Adad Hannah / Fritzia Irizar / Adriana Lara and Natalia Martínez / Nils Nova / Goran Petercol / Wilfredo Prieto / SUPERFLEX and Jens Haaning
Artists from the Tamayo Museum Collection: Berenice Abbott Yaacov Agam Herbert Bayer James Brooks Eduardo Chillida Christo Carlos Cruz-Diez Hans Hartung Auguste Herbin Arcangelo Ianelli Franz Joseph Kline María Leontina Michele Nedelec Ben Nicholson Mark Rothko Gerardo Rueda Rodolfo Samonte Julian Stanczak José Soto Antoni Tàpies Victor Vasarely Yvaral Vasarely
Monday, March 19, 2012
MANILA, Philippines — Digital art is the apex of modern art. The computer-aided technology does not only help artists attain possibilities never imagined before; it also fast tracks (at dazzling speed) older printmaking techniques – making art more accessible and less elitist.
One Filipino artist who has made his mark in this contemporary medium abroad is Rodolfo “Rod” Samonte, who is based in Burbank, Los Angeles (LA), southern California. Away from the Philippines for 33 years, he is putting on an “energized” exhibit of 30 digital art works Gallery One in LRI Design Plaza, on Nicanor Garcia Street, in Bel-Air, Makati City starting December 7.
Samonte’s computer-aided geometric abstractions are, to say the least, startling and overwhelming. They are 45” x 60” and 80” x 80” in size; printed on cotton duck canvas, mounted with plywood backing; there are only 10 limited editions per work.
What is digital art when shaped by a seasoned wizard like Samonte? His geometric abstraction in the late '60s to the late '70s made him one of the most important abstract Filipino painters in Manila when he was still young.
For Samonte, digital art is like holding on to the horns of modern technology -- not to tame but to match his imagination’s obsession for unlimited forms and possibilities. Craftsmanship, depth and soul must be there while working on photoshop; photoshop is an aid and not the only key to the artist’s creative process in a fast changing world.
“Digital art is the future,” is how Samonte would describe it. “I have been doing it since 2003 in LA. Even there, very few are taking up the challenge of digital art. It should be learned, absolutely,” he declares.
Hiatus and rebirth
Samonte reached Cleveland as an immigrant in 1979 and learned computer graphics when he started working for various advertising agencies in the US. After 19 years, he quit work to become a full-time artist in 1998. Five years after, in 2003, he started feeding colors and geometrical shapes into his computer to experiment on digital art making.
“I started slowly. Then I realized I could really work (fast) on shapes and colours at pwede akong magwala sa kulay,” he recalls. In the next eight years, Samonte’s computer-aided geometric abstraction wowed hundreds of thousands of viewers in the US.
“I am the only one doing digital art in our group called Lanterns of the East,” says Samonte. The LA-based art group owns a gallery in downtown LA where members can hold shows. They also hold yearly exhibits in two other galleries: Barnsdall Art Park on Hollywood Boulevard and Vermont; and at Brand Library’s gallery in Glendale.
US-based Filipino social realist painters Rey Zipagan and Papo de Asis (who died of heart attack in 2007) became members of Samonte’s multi-diversified group.
Digital art’s bigger impact, apart from its dazzling form, says Samonte, comes from the artist’s decision to make his art reach more people at less cost.
Would he ever go back to traditional art-making?
Samonte says, “I am thinking of doing collage, but, again, I want to use it in my digital art.”
True-blooded abstract artist
From his first exhibit in 1968, Samonte was already being branded as a true-blooded modernist. He was never tempted to use oil on canvas. Impatient with traditional art making, he says, “I always liked something that dried faster, something that could reveal faster what I have imagined.”
From 1968 to 1977, he was using ink on woodcut, ink for printmaking, acrylic colors for silkscreen printing, and sprayed automotive lacquer. Ironically, he was fond of thickening his works (and make bas-relief) with these thin-bodied art media.
Samonte finished his art studies at the University of Santos Tomas in 1964, then worked as graphic artist for Advertising and Marketing Associates (AMA) and Ace Campton, among other advertising firms, slowly developing a liking for more contemporary techniques in art-making.
Before embarking on serious art shows, Samonte had been winning first, third, and fourth prizes in the print category of the Art Association of the Philippines’ (AAP’s) yearly competition. One of his award winning pieces suggested a figurative form, but this was the first and last time this abstract painter ever came close to it.
A different woodcut artist
In a show on woodcuts at Joy Dayrit Gallery in 1968, Samonte used round and rectangular wooden chopping boards that were pockmarked with knives, screws, hard objects, including carving tools, the images of which were transferred on paper in black and white. “I used my palm to impress the chopping board on paper,” he says.
Samonte created a niche for himself when he started silkscreen printing. To create geometric abstraction, he would layer up colors up to 1/8 of an inch thick. “With silkscreen, I could make colorful abstract images; I could achieve depth and sculptural qualities. The process allowed me to achieve the effects I wanted in my art. It was closest to my sensibility at the time,” he explains. His passion for the technique lasted until 1977.
American artist Andy Warhol used silkscreen to create pop art (Campbell soup, portraits of Hollywood stars); the content of Warhol’s art, however, never attracted Samonte, who used the same method but created geometric abstraction, which was popular among his colleagues then. Worried to innovate on more contemporary content while elevating a newer method as a valid medium for high art, critics eventually dubbed Samonte a pioneer of silkscreen art in the Philippines.
Not really for printmaking
Although he was active at the Philippine Association of Printmakers which was spearheaded by Adiel Arevalo in the '70s, and despite a good number of excellent prints he made (using stencil and lithograph), Samonte says printmaking was a mere “passing fancy”. “I didn’t want to become dependent on a big machine (press) to create art. I liked doing woodcut and silk screen printing at home,” he says. When he said good-bye to printmaking, he sold his etching press to bosom friend Romulo Olazo, an artist he often collaborated with.
Master of sprayed automotive lacquer paint
When he discovered the technique of sprayed automotive lacquer paint, his geometric abstractions became even more colorful, glossy, and its bas relief, stronger. His next canvas was his second hand Vauxhall, which he spray-painted with khaki green, red, and yellow. “I changed its colors every year. Maraming kulay ang pinagdaanan ang kotse ko. It was yellow when I sold it,” he chuckles.
Samonte would use the glossy lacquer paint in creating minimalist pieces that “avoided (as humanly possible) gradations”. Soon he used one color per canvas; he used to assemble an array of even-toned canvases to create gradations of colors.
Gallery owners who were mesmerized by his works (especially those where he innovated with automotive lacquer paint) at Luz Gallery invited him for exhibits in Bogota, Colombia; Holland; and Japan.
Before he went abroad in 1977, he was teaching advertising at the Philippine Women’s University and printmaking/silkscreen style at the University of the Philippines between 1975 and 1976.
In 1977, after his art shows abroad, he also went to Cleveland where his sister worked with an insurance company and his brother, with a printing firm.
After a gallery scheduled him for a show in Cleveland, Samonte used brush (for the first time) on acrylic to create geometric abstractions “manually” (as opposed to his gestural silkscreen printing). “My works became smaller, 15” x 20”. Mahilig ako sa blue nuon. Then my colors became increasingly minimalist also because of the space constraint where I worked….walang masyadong magalawan.”
Abroad, Samonte reunited with many Filipino printmakers who were self-exiles in the US and in Europe: Aro Soriano in Paris; Restituto Embuscado, Lamberto Hechanova, Lucio Martinez, Marcelino Rodriguez, Manuel Rodriguez (father of printmaking in the Philippines), and Joel Soliven in the US. Soon, he would be an exiled artist like them.
Paper sculpture, interim art
In Japan, he learned how to make paper. In Paris, he purchased rag-paper (made of linen and cotton), which became useful in making his own cast paper sculpture for an interim show when he came back to Manila. In his workshop in his house in Sampaloc district, he osteorized the rag-paper, poured it on 1/8-- inch giant rubber sheets he sculpted with several layers of geometric shapes (that served as reverse image of a mold). ”I used sponge to dry it up. I could not lift the mold until the molded paper sculpture was totally dry, otherwise it would crumble,” he explains his early experiments on this medium.
When he came back to the Philippines in 1978, he also married Michaela, an artist he met at the Design Center of the Philippines. Their son, Rodolfo Jr., was born when he had returned to the US as an immigrant in 1979; his family joined him in the US only in 1984. A second son, Samuel, was born there in 1992. While his artist wife became an accountant, his eldest son, a graduate of animation art, has shown interest in digital art; his youngest, still a student, is aiming early to be an artist.
“I am happy with my life,” confesses this self-exiled multi-faceted artist, his face mirroring the dazzling joy of his digital art in his homecoming show.
Samonte : New Work opens on December 7, 2011, 6:30pm at GalerieOne Workshop LRI Design Plaza Nicanor Garcia St Bel Air II Makati City. The show will run until December 31, 2011. For more details call 8368799 or email email@example.com
Saturday, October 15, 2011
The Arts & Books Gallery proudly presents "Spheres of Time," a solo art exhibition by Los Angeles-based artist Rodolfo Samonte. The exhibition opens in conjunction with the 6th Annual Los Angeles Art Crawl scheduled for September 19 to 21, 2003 in the Silver Lake Art District of LA.
"Spheres of Time" is a series of large-scale digital paintings on canvas. As with traditional abstract expressionist painting, Samonte fills his canvasses with the pulsating energy of deliriously imploding or exploding worlds of myriad forms and shapes, in lambent colors and tonalities, all controlled and subsumed in spheres within squares, then finally resting and formalized in a structured grid.
Says Samonte who has been continually fascinated by the computer as an artmaking tool: "I have completely abandoned traditional art materials and tools. The computer is now my easel, Photoshop my paintbrush."
This is Samonte's 19th solo exhibition and his first in the Los Angeles area. Samonte has shown his paintings, serigraphs and paperwork in galleries in the Philippines, Australia, Japan, South America, Europe and the United States.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
In my trip to Manila (April 18 to April 30, 2010), I was fascinated by what they call Sikyu (or Security Guard). It seems Sikyus are a part of the Philippine landscape now, you see them just about everywhere. There's Sikyus in every business establishment, buildings, private homes of the wealthy, condominiums, the malls, the Light Rail Transportation, schools, banks of course.
These Security Guards are heavily armed, with 45s and shotguns, they're generally friendly, polite, respectful, but can also be downright mean and tough (and I did run into a few of this type), as they undoubtedly are tough and trained to be.
With all these security guards around, one would be led to believe Manila as a dangerous city, or inversely, a very safe city precisely because of their presence... and happily I found it to be the latter. For example, traveling around Manila, nothing is safer than using the LRT (Light Rail Transit) or the MRT (Metro Rail Transit) where there are Sikyus in every entrance plus a guard who travels with the train.
They're everywhere in Manila, and with my trusty 2-megapixel Canon, I took photographs wherever I see them. Photographing was random and fast, point-shoot-move on, if you will, as I walked, or rode on public transportation in the heart of Manila. Chance takes precedence over premeditation (sometimes the subject will allow a pose or two). I had no idea what I was going to do with the photographs, I was simply recording what I found fascinating.
Now, based on those photographs, I have started a series of artwork, a tribute to these hardworking men and women who keep Manila safe, tentatively called:
The Charming Security Guards of Manila.
I thought they were charming, in their bright-white, well-laundered uniforms, they generally will accede to being photographed, but the women are shy (indeed, a very charming trait of most Pilipino women), that's why I have so few of them. Here's some I've done so far, and I will kept updating this blog. Everything I'm doing is what I call Painted Photographs (using Photoshop), the finished work culled from my collection of raw images, combined, collaged or otherwise manipulated to produce a visual story.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Cid Reyes is one of the top art critics of the Philippines. He has won the "Art Critic of the Year Award" and has written various articles, art reviews and criticism on Philippine Art, books on Malang, Bencab, and publications for the Cultural Center of the Philippines (CCP). This interview is from his book "Conversations on Philippine Art" published in 1989 by the CCP (available at CCP bookstore). The book includes interviews with several Philippine National Artists for the Arts including sculptor Abueva and painters Luz, Manansala, Edades, Joya, Kiukok, Legaspi, H.R. Ocampo and Bencab. The interview was conducted by correspondence with Samonte who lives in Los Angeles. See review of this book by art critic Eric Torres immediately after this posting.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The interview - pages 135 to 142 in the book:
CID REYES: You are one artist who is essentially a graphic artist. Some painters try their hand at the graphic arts merely as a diversion. What attracted you to graphic arts in the first place?
RODOLFO SAMONTE: I prefer to be called simply an artist. I have been stereotyped as a printmaker for two obvious reasons: I first made my mark in Philippine art by winning prizes in printmaking and my first two one-man exhibitions were in the print medium. The art world's controlling interest are constantly trying to fit us into categories, to pin us down and make things more manageable. This doesn't really bother me that much, but while it is true that some of my best works are prints, I think I have done equally well with my lacquered relief paintings.
What attracted me to printmaking is what I call that element of "surprise." You really cannot tell what's going to happen between the plate and paper in your first proof. Of course, this was when I was starting out and the whole print process was still something of a novelty to me. I was also attracted to printmaking because it allowed me to put plenty of information in a very compact space. Recently, however, I have been trying to purge my work of all extraneous details, leaving only the essentials. But I still maintain that prints should be small and handy, to be read and scrutinized like a book or magazine. Now that I have gained complete control of my medium, it has become less of challenge. Thar's why I keep on innovating, as shown by my lacquered paintings and my recent paper reliefs. I have gone into photography too.
CR: Is there such a thing as having the right "sensibility" for the graphic arts? I mean I don't think it's just a matter of an artist changing Media, say, from painting to printmaking? One should have a "feel" for the medium shouldn't one?
RS: I suppose that's true. My work has always been experimental. I just don't have the patience for more conventional media like oil. Oil dries up too slowly. I want to see what's going on in my work right away. This is another reason why I went into silkscreen; I've done lacquer and acrylic paintings too. So you might say that I'm at home with the medium when I use fast-drying colors like acrylic, lacquer or silkscreen paint.
CR: I know of painters who have purposely shied away from the graphic arts because "they're too messy and too complicated." Are they referring to the tedium of going through all the various steps of printmaking?RS: Printmaking is an exciting world in itself -- the possibilities are infinite! Yet it would take a lifetime to master one or two techniques at the most. There's so much work involved, but that is one of its virtues. This is why printmaking is more interesting. Here at home, one has to go into all these processes. Abroad, say, in the United States, they have workshops run by expert printers who will do the work for you. The artist need never have to dirty his hand.
CR: This sounds rather academic, but could you describe to us the various media in the graphic arts? How do they differ from one another? What is a woodcut? A lithograph? An etching? A silkscreen?RS: Printmaking is basically the transferring of an image from one surface, usually metal, wood, or stone to another surface, usually paper. The problem of how to separate the printing areas from the non-printing areas create the different media of the graphic arts. First there is the relief process, so called because all the printing areas are retained as an upstanding surface which receives the ink. Woodcuts and linocuts fall into this category. Second, there is the intaglio process, the exact opposite of the relief process in that the printing areas are cut away, using tools or acid. Ink is forced into the crevices, excess ink is wiped off the upper surface and is printed on paper with the use of a press. Examples are etchings and engravings. Third, there is the planographic process wherein the separation of the printing and non-printing areas is achieved by the natural antipathy of oil and water. The image is drawn with a grease pencil on limestone, which is then dampened with water during the application of ink; thus only the greased portion receives the ink, which is rejected by the wet portions. Fourth, there is the stencil process in which ink is made to pass through holes or perforations onto the printing surface. Silkscreen is the best example of this. Then there are mixed media techniques which combine two or more processes.
CR: Which of these various media do you prefer to work in? Why? What qualities do you get out of it?
RS: Silkscreen. I suppose it lends itself well to some of my concerns: color, shape and sculptural qualities.
CR: Is it also because the silkscreen medium lends itself well to your hard-edge designs?RS: Yes, Also, it has gotten so that now that I have complete control over this medium and I can do almost anything I want with it.
CR: Didn't you work on woodcuts at first?
RS: Yes, my first one-man show in 1969 was an exhibition of colored woodcuts. I had been doing woodcuts long before that however; ever since my student days.
CR: Do you think it right that people should consider, say, a woodblock print as inferior to an oil painting.
RS: No. but it really depends on a lot of variables. If you're talking about archival qualities, certainly an oil painting, would outlast, say, a woodcut on newsprint. However, an etching on 100% rag paper printed with excellent inks would definitely be superior to painting done with tinting colors on plywood as many of our painters are doing. If you're talking about form or artistic content, then the only limiting factor would be the mind itself.
CR: Perhaps, it's the idea that you can make a hundred editions of a woodblock print whereas an oil painting is always an "original."
RS: The notion that prints are not "original" is wrong. All fine prints, are original in that the artist has complete control over the final image as opposed to a reproduction which is done entirely by photo-mechanical means. Recently, however, it has become even more difficult to distinguish one from the other, especially with the breaking up of traditional boundaries between the two. But then that is all part of the aesthetic mobility that has come upon the art world in the last decade.
CR: But to counter this argument, would it not be going against the nature of the graphic arts if you were to pull out, say, just one copy of a print.
RS: Yes. Plurality of image is the basic concept of printmaking. Art is made more inexpensive, thus accessible to more art lovers especially in the wake of the recent awareness in art.
CR: How would you describe your early attempts at printmaking? Would you describe your early prints like "Love Garden?"
RS: My earlier prints were made while I was still a student and they were mostly woodcuts with images influenced by the then popular " modern primitivism" or what I have always referred to as the University of Santo Tomas School because the practitioners where mostly students from U.S.T. This type of primitivist art was influenced by Tamayo's sombre figures, Paul Klee's child-like drawings, Gauguin's primitive figures and Expressionist colors. This group was composed of Noel Manalo, Raymundo Valencia, Boy Rodriguez, Angelito Antonio, Norma Belleza, Mario Parial, Francis Yap, Ramon Dellosa, Prudencio Lamarossa and myself. All of us shared the same stylistic concerns. All were from U.S.T., with the exception of Francis Yap who was from the University of the East. We dominated both the Shell Art Competition and the Traveller's Life Religious Art competitions in the early 1960's. I did two important works during this period. One was titled "Mother and Child," which I entered in the AAP contest in 1965. It didn't win any prize, but it was noticed by Arturo Luz, who sent me a letter expressing the desire to see more of my works, possibly to show them in his gallery. The other, titled "The Love Garden, " won the the first prize in the First AAP Graphic Art Competition in 1966. This was the last print I did in that style before I eventually moved into abstraction.
CR: Is there such a thing as influence in the graphic arts? Have you been influence in technique, for instance, by the Japanese woodcut masters, like Munakata, Utamaro, Hiroshige or Hokusai? Or Americans like Leonard Baskin, Rockwell Kent? Who are your influences?
RS: Rod Paras-Perez is said to be the person who influenced me in my early formative years, especially during my "woodcut" period. This is true as far as technique is concerned. I think Paras-Perez's excellent woodcuts set the limits of this art and until now is the oeuvre to reckon with. However, he and I have widely differing sensibilities. I think this became obvious in my subsequent works. I have made only one woodcut which looks like a Perez, a figurative piece called "The Mourners," now in the collection of the National Museum. I exhibited this piece with some 30 abstract pieces in my first one-man show in 1969. I guess it was this one work that directly connected me to Paras-Perez. I was influenced too, in one way or another by such prominent figures in Philippine art as Joya, J. Elizalde Navarro, Chabet and Luz during my transition to abstraction -- which is natural, since my only exposure to art then was the local art scene. I have since then moved into another level of development which is entirely my own. I think nobody else in Philippine art shares my concern for a non-illusionistic art object. This has been evident in my 1978 prints and relief paintings up to the present works. No one has clearly pointed this out, but in the past six years I have been operating at the border line between painting and sculpture. I think apart from prints my other important contribution to contemporary art has been to erase the traditional boundaries between two and three-dimensional art.
I have never been influenced by those printmakers you mentioned, although I greatly admire those Japanese artist. I am not keen on Baskin's work especially his recent ones. He had a one-man show in New York when I was there, but I didn't even bother to see it. Yet I don't know how many times I went to Castelli's to see Smithson's salt/mirror pieces and Robert Morris' sculptures, and before that Rauschenberg's Jammer pieces and Judd's plywood constructions. I admire Ellsworth Kelly's work and share his concern for shape and color.
CR: Did you have any formal training in art? Again, what school did you attend?RS: University of Santo Tomas. I also took a course in printmaking at the School of Visual Arts in New York in 1976 and also commercial lithography in Cleveland.
CR: I wonder if I could ask you a few biographical questions like where you took up your early studies and whether you came from an "artistic" family?RS: I first discovered I could draw when I took up machine drawing at the Philippine College of Arts & Trades in 1958. The next year, I took up drafting, but the measurements involved were too restrictive for me and so I quit in favor of the freedom of the Fine Arts. As far as I know I am the only artist in our family.
CR: What kind of art were you attracted to as a student?
RS: Art to me then was comic-book illustration. My ambition was to be a famous illustrator like my idol then, Francisco V. Coching. I think to a certain extent this was an important phase in my development as an artist. It helped develop my powers of perception as well as manual dexterity with brush and pencil. But I developed my talent for design and invention from two great teachers, Cenon Rivera and Galo Ocampo. Incidentally, I learned silkscreen and other print media from Cenon Rivera.CR: How important do you think is formal training for someone who wants to go into printmaking? Printmaking, being a very "techical" medium, would necesarily involve a great amount of experimentation. don't you think so?
RS: Quite important. Although I don't think our schools offer a bachelor's degree in printmaking as they do in sculpture or in painting. And then too, we don't have many good teachers in this field. However, one can learn the technical complexities of printmaking by self-study, experimentation and hard work. Tthere are workshops too that offer lessons in printmaking like those given by the Philippine Association of Printmakers and Print Collections.
CR: Do you approach your printmaking in what I call a "painterly" sense?
RS: As a matter of fact that's how I did my early silkscreen. I wanted to approximate painting. I used brush and lacquer for blocking-out my stencils, and I was able to achieve an effect much like the abstract expressionists. Then as now, I was already using a rectangular grid system which I relate to my present "structural" work.
CR: Your prints are, I believe, based strictly on preliminary designs?
RS: No. I work directly on the silkscreen without reference to a preliminary design, but I already know more or less what I'm going to do. I do make sketches, though, usually a series of drawings crystallizing a single fixed idea. But when I start to work on the screen I don't look at the sketches; I find this tends to somehow restrict me. This system makes for a more spontaneous design typical of my early screen prints. My recent prints, however, are more calculated, more impersonal, relying quite heavily on a grid pattern of design. This relates directly of course, to my transition to a reductive, non-compositional art.
CR: Do you know from the beginning what the print is going to look like?
RS: Not exactly what it's going to look like, but a vague idea. I usually make decisions on the various elements like color, shape or texture spontaneously. In fact you might say I am actually "painting" with silkscreen. But let me tell you how I do it: I use what is called the "block-out" method. First I determine the shape or format of the print, whether it's going to be a square or a rectangle or some other shape. So, initially, I already have a concrete idea of what the shape will be. I then cut this shape out in stencil, attach it to the silkscreen frame, and print a whole edition of the background color. I then make a stencil for the next color by blocking-out certain portions right on the first stencil using paper tape and lacquer. These blocked-out portions represent areas wherein the background color will be retained. By making the next stencil for the new color, I am actually destroying the stencil of the last color. This makes it difficult to go back to the last color in case I make a mistake. In this method one has to finish the whole edition right away. Sometimes when the print doesn't come out the way I want it to be, I'd have to throw away the whole edition.CR: Is there much chance of your taking advantage of "accidents?" Do you like accidents at all?RS: Sure. In my earlier serigraphs, I played with a lot of accidents, which I later learned to control. After that they're not accidents anymore. This is one of the joys of printmaking. The is the element of "surprise" that I was telling you about, the accidents that happen between plate and paper. But it takes an artist to recognize their beauty and control them. Now it is difficult to control accidents, and control is needed in order to repeat the accident. Printing is basically a process of repetiiton. This is what frustrates a lot of would-be printmakers.CR: Do some of your prints give you ideas for other prints.
RS: Yes. That's why I work in series -- one print leads to another.
CR: Let's talk about your serigraphs. If titles are any clues to a work's intention, object or mood, then your titles are indeed revealing. I mean, of course, titles like "Rising" and "Shaping," which are states of movement, modes of action. How do these titles relate to the work themselves? Certainly I do not think of them as arbitrary notations for the mere purpose of cataloguing.
RS: Indeed they are states of movement, not only within the works themselves, but as a strong suggestion of my transition, from a painterly mode to a reductive one. Titles like those you mentioned, "Rising" and "Shaping," mean exactly that. My "Shaping" series are bands of changing tonalities that move downwards and upwards forming into a cloudlike shape. "Rising" is as well, bands of colors moving upward.CR: Your paintings, like your prints, create relief effects. How do you achieve these technically?
RS: They are cut-out or shaped canvases, sanded and painted to a glossy perfection.
CR: A number of your silkscreen prints are made up of succeeding layers, creating relief effect, exploiting the projection and recession of forms. What are your intentions?RS: I have always been interested in sculpture. All my relief works, whether they are prints or paintings, are expressions of my sculptural ideas.
CR: When did you start doing lacquer-spray painting?
RS: In 1972, I embarked on a project that was designed to be "big." In a way I was trying to get away from the strict confines of the print medium and its small format. But I didn't want to make large prints. So I decided to go into painting using lacquer paints. Lacquer seem to be best suited for my purposes at that time, since I wanted to get away from the too "painterly" silkscreens. Also my shapes and forms seemed to come out more from a surface that was smooth and non-textural. Then, too, I was slowly moving into a reductive or minimal style. My paintings were not just paintings, they were sculptures too, since they were in relief with frames actually being part of the whole work. I also started working in monochrome at this time. In fact they were more successfull then the multi-colored ones. All of this I exhibited at the Luz Gallery that year.*
CR: Your color range is mainly within pastel shades. You never, or very rarely use pure primary colors. Why? Are you avoiding a shrill impression?
RS: It is very difficult to reconcile sculptural qualities with bright colors. One can either have bright colors on a flat surface or light colors on a protruding and receding surface. They just won't mix. Sculptural qualities are also heightened by using less color, thus, I have been doing more and more monochrome pieces. Light is also important to my work. They are best seen with ligh coming from above because the works actually reflect light and cast shadows. That's why I have been concerened with horizontality in recent years. My shapes are more pronounced when seen horizontally than vertically. Of course you can achieve the same effect by hanging it vertically and lighting it from one side like window light, but light from above seems more natural.
CR: Do ideas for shapes and forms come to you in an automatic kind of way? To what extent do you depend on drawing to generate ideas?
RS: Drawing is extremely important to crystallize my ideas. I do a lot of sketches sometimes doing nothing but shapes.
CR: What procedure do you follow in your relief paintings?
RS: First, the canvas is "wrapped" around a wooden framework. Acrylic molding paste is then applied to smoothen out the canvas texture. Shapes are then cut from separate pieces of smoothened canvas and pasted as in collage. This is then sanded and sprayed with lacquer primer before the application of lacquer paint.
CR: What qualities do you get out of this medium? It's a very industrial kind of medium which gives the impression that the work was not in the least touched by the human hand.RS: It's glossy and somehow it's just perfect for the non-textural, monochromatic, and impersonal qualities I want.
CR: How do you feel about the this mechanical quality, about art based on a blue-print -- as contrasted to a more romantic, traditional way of painting with canvas, easel, brush, palette knife, et cetera?
RS: Duchamp's decision that art must be a matter of choice has left this field wide open. Certainly your own art by mailed instruction, or Luz's sculpture done by his carpenters, is a manifestation of this new freedom. If an artist can achieve the same ends without having to be involved with medium itself, why not do it. If I can find a craftsman who'll be able to do exactly what I want, then I'll let him do it.
CR: Do you have assistants working with you?
RS: Yes. I usually have two assistants. One helps with my silkscreen work, and the other does my spray painting.
CR: Can you tell us something about your working procedure? Do you work continually or only when you're preparing for a show?
RS: That depends on what you mean by the word "work." Working for me includes the signing and cataloguing of my me editions. This is boring work but it can't be helped. Thinking is also work. So I think I work continuously. Of course I have my moods too and don't do any work, but that is unusual. I do more work when preparing for a show.
RS: I am quite disciplined. I usually work eight hours a day, and more. I guess I just keep working. In my last show at the Luz Gallery for instance, I exhibited over a hundred works consisting of screenprints, acrylic and lacquer painting, and cast-paper reliefs -- a prodigious output considering I did all this in six months. Later that same year I had a photography show at Print Collections Gallery. Last year I had three shows consisting mainly of acrylic and drawings.
CR: When preparing for a show, how do you get yourself "warmed up?" By launching yourself into a frenzy of sketching? I know some painters for instance who warm up by browsing through photographs of other people's work. Some get warmed up by going from one gallery to another and gradually building up a competitive desire to do better work. How do you do it?
RS: I like to read biographical books and critical essays about artists. I'm a regular gallery-goer, always keeping up with what's going on in the Manila art scene. Lectures and discussions on art always warm me up. Naturally, I do a lot of sketches.
photography, paper-making and sculpture. Right now, I am busy making cast-paper reliefs. I have done some lead sculptures too. Of course, I may have been guilty of being decorative or repetitive, especially sometime during the development of a certain idea, and since I work in series, I am in fact more susceptible to repetition. I would consider that a virtue rather than a fault, however. Joseph Albers, for example, is known for his square painting, and that is exactly what he has been doing all his life -- squares and variations of his square theme.
RS: It seems to be an unlikely time to ask me that question. After having had three one-man shows in close succession and group exhibitions one after the other, one would expect me to fold up and retire into oblivion. Yet art has a primacy, in immanence that penetrates into my being; art is my life, my commitment. As to your question, the following seem to be foremost in my mind: (1) To make large scale metal sculptures. I want to do more sculptures using lead and paper. (2) To take up a masters degree, maybe Art History. Also to take up further studies in papermaking and printmaking. I would like to do a body of work using etching or lithograpy process. (3) To do some more art writing or art criticism.
*Find a review by art critic Armando Manalo of this exhibit in a posting shown below.