The Power of Art

We circled the huge, graying monolith as rains fell around us, soaking the dark pavement. Soon we came to the barely visible side entrance, made plain only by the cordons and signs directing vehicles to pull into the small alcove. I exited the vehicle, signed the guest logbook and walked into the building. After some confusion, I found myself at the top floor of the CCP building, in front of a small gallery containing only 6 paintings. A quick glance at the logbook in front of the plaque assured me that this was the right place, so I walked in and took long, hard looks at the pieces within the tiny chamber.

Apparently Dennis Gonzales was one of those UP students who religiously attended art exhibits, expos and the like, or so the plaque behind the entrance states. Not much of a problem to understand, I guess. There are and will be people who are like that. But let’s get down to business.

The tiny exhibit, entitled "Hombre", is indeed a fascinating study on human nature in visual form. Though his style involves taking pre-existing works and remolding them into his own work by generously pouring in a quart of what appears to be his adopted philosophy in life, Dennis accurately portrays the modern human condition to a great degree. I say "accurately" because while his paintings depict somber, often morbid situations with touches of irony and dark, sardonic humor, a quick glimpse of reality will prove that he is, in most cases, correct.

Take "Okama" (Japanese for "oven"?), for instance, in which a bisexual parody of the first woman, Eve, stands right beside not only that ancient enemy of man, the Serpent, but also a cartoonish fairy godmother. Just imagine for a moment: is this not the very embodiment of today’s confused and flamboyant sexuality? Or the shocking "Hombre", a painting depicting a child whose teddy bear is being "examined" by three adult men. In my scant experience surrounding art exhibits, never has the wanton destruction of innocence by perverted humans been so powerfully put across, as one’s eyes quickly move from the tearful face of the child (framed in a halo, to wit) to the teddy bear being fingered by one of the old men, and finally to the blood trickling down from beneath the girl’s skirt.

Ah, yes, blood. The very symbol and essence of [physical] life, as it is written by the lawgiver, "For the blood is the life" (Leviticus 17:11). Most of Mr. Gonzales’ works feature gory details, from the splattered pillar in the rather decadent composition "Lord" to the crimson rain in the bitter yet humorously puzzling "Superman". What better way to depict mankind’s idiosyncrasies with than the crimson lifestream itself, which flows within his veins? Yet here it is gratuitous; wasted, I might even say. Perhaps that is the exact intent of the author, for often mankind’s prowess and soul is wasted on mundane things that only contribute to his self-destruction. A kind of mental and spiritual bloodshed, if you will.

The most striking piece, though, lies in the very center of the gallery: the colorful collage entitled "Mankind". Here the many facets of man are revealed--from sadness and laughter to idealism, superstition, lust and hatred--as numerous faces interact with each other amidst random drawings of animals and cartoon figures like Road Runner, Popeye and even the Warner Bros. version of Superman (perhaps this is one way of saying how silly and yet how bestial we are?). Easily the most eye-catching and varied composition in the little room, as it attempts to feature every possible bias and thought men possess. Yet there was one figure in the painting that often caught my eye: the drooping head of Christ lying in the very center of it all, complete with greenish pallor.

At present, it leaves me wondering: is this the very influence of the whole "God is dead" mentality that sprang up during the so-called "Enlightenment" and broke out into a sort of epidemic during the 70s and beyond?

Perhaps the one thing I dislike about Gonzales’ works…and believe me, high art is such that you do not exactly end up criticizing the artist’s methods but rather his worldview…is that his negative atmosphere leaves little room for hope. It’s one thing to tell us how blind and utterly desolate we are (and believe me, in today’s bland age of individualistic postmodernism, we need such things), but to leave man without hope only opens the door for a sort of societal suicide.

As I left the room, I glanced back at the painting located to the left of the gallery entrance. "Man-made" depicted a bleeding wild cat brutally bound by wires and left in the middle of a dark road. I cannot help but wonder at the truth and at the same time the semantic incompleteness of the picture. Is everything man-made cruel as opposed to nature (in this case, the feline)?

Or does the artist merely wish to say that what sinful man often does is cruel?

"When men tell you to consult mediums and spiritists, who whisper and mutter, should not a people inquire of their God? Why consult the dead on behalf of the living? To the law and to the testimony! If they do not speak according to this word, they have no light of dawn. Distressed and hungry, they will roam through the land; when they are famished, they will become enraged and, looking upward, will curse their king and their God. Then they will look toward the earth and see only distress and darkness and fearful gloom, and they will be thrust into utter darkness." – Isaiah 8:19-22