At the core of every artist’s retrospective lies the desire to capture a lifetime of artistic exploration, serving as a testament to their creative journey. For a living artist, however, such an undertaking proves to be a complex task, as the selection of artworks can only provide a glimpse of the critical directions in their extensive practice.
Jose Tence Ruiz (Photo from Art Informal); 'Kaluluwang Kalawangin,' mixed media, 45 x 36 x 7 inches, 1977
Jose Tence Ruiz’s recent exhibitions, “fastBACKward” and “Litanya,” are brave attempts at this challenging endeavor, offering a glimpse into his five-decade artistic odyssey while recognizing that it represents only a fragment of his continuously evolving expression.
Ruiz also hates referring to them as “retrospectives” because, for him, “retrospectives are for deceased individuals and those who have stopped making art.” Instead, he prefers to call the shows “inventories,” collections of small moments that define a social realist practitioner—encompassing issues at home, frustrations with the puppet government, annoyances with the fascist police, the longing for a national version of pop art, and the internal struggle of being perceived as a sellout artist.
During the run of “fastBACKward” at Kaida Gallery in Quezon City, I had the opportunity to have a conversation with Ruiz, or Bogie, as he prefers to be called. As any of his peers would attest, talking with Bogie is akin to experiencing an art show. And it was one of those interviews where we delved into various topics, from his early struggles with disapproving parents who didn’t support his pursuit of art and his involvement with the national democratic movement to his experimentation with psychedelics and his legacy as a social realist and his aversion toward artificial intelligence.
He shared that the show, apart from being a chronicle of his 50-year journey and an inventory of pieces that didn’t catch the interest of collectors (albeit half-jokingly), serves as a moment of reflection as many of his contemporaries, like Neil Doloricon, Leo Abaya, Orly Castillo, and others, who were figures in the art world and the progressive movement, have recently passed away.
'24,' digital print on enamel and wood, 22 x 22 x 22 inches, 2007; 'Bintana ng Burukrata,' oil on canvas, 36 x 48 inches, 1984
Furthermore, the artworks “serve as evidence of what it takes to possibly push a person to become a social realist,” according to Bogie. The show is an accumulation of markers, a succession of cumulative concerns that weave together to form the voice attributed to the artist. Bogie’s trajectory is portrayed as a migration, a journey from inner formation to connection with the world around him.
In Alienation Suite, one witnesses the artist struggling with raw juvenile emotions and angst, attempting to make sense of the human experience. He then turns his gaze toward the lives of others, as seen in works like Nakaabang sa Bintana. In Bintana ng Burukrata, Bogie transcends the boundaries of traditional still life, using objects as tools to critique a society’s corruption and yearning for a more just social organization. Other works, such as Diducktik, delve into the internal conflict between the pursuit of art as a soul-nourishing endeavor and the practical demands of sustaining oneself economically.
When asked if the 50-year inventories could be seen as a window into Philippine society, Bogie expresses his hope they could be so. It has always been the goal of a social realist. “When you look me in the eye, however, I cannot say so with certainty. People accuse me of obscurity. But for me, there must always be a poetic challenge. I’ve been wrestling with this every day of my artistic life. But the litmus test is to see if I repeat myself.”
Interestingly, Bogie’s artistic journey began in the 1970s, during the height of the Marcos dictatorship. Now that the Marcoses are back in power, one can’t help but establish a connection and feel that we’ve come full circle. But he denies that he did the shows because of the Marcoses, whether they came back or not. It just so happens that they returned to power.
And there lies the answer to the question. Filipino social realists, even giants like Bogie, are doomed to repeat messages due to the enduring social reality, albeit taking different forms, as the material and social conditions of Philippine society remain at the same stage.
Bogie made reference to Elvis Costello’s song called “God’s Comic.” In his view, if there is a god, that deity would be a comic, moving in silly and mysterious ways. Or as Karl Marx says, “History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce.”
Despite all of this, Bogie, in his own way as a social realist, remains positive about the future, and he leaves us these inventories as proof. “The inventory is there for people to judge. Maybe some would say Bogie is a foolish optimist who thought it would mean anything.”
"fastBACKward" ran until July 25 at the Kaida Gallery; Litanya, 1972-2022, The Works of Jose Tence Ruiz, runs until Sept. 2, 2023 at the Ateneo Art Gallery