A VIEW AT THE GAZE OF RICARDO HUMANO
Ricardo Humano paints what he does not see, the invisible fragment of the evident, taken by the magnet of the unconscious; submiting the plastic matter to his tantrums of passion, painting the joyful and profound; by painting what escapes the excess of reality. What he paints is to be touched; to sink the incredulous finger into the side of his faith, better said, the joy of the touch of each brush-stroke.
Like the master Sesshus, of whom leyend tells painted as a boy with his tears; and by his foot a rat that freed him from the punishment of his superiors by bitting the ties from his hands, or like the master Inocent Toledo who after painting a horse; escapes at full gallop before the amazement of his captors; Ricardo Human, son of the tropic, escapes from the closed moorish dungeons of the easy, to fall into the turbulent waters of the difficult.
In his paintings clarity or obscurity show what lies behind each thought, the meaning behind each brush-stroke, the gesture turned into a sign, which is revealed by the stains that prolong and completely take over the canvas; converting the frame into a reference from which the gaze penetrates to look at itself, and melt its innocence.
Ricardo Humano has achieved what few painters have procured, to make painting sound, impose on it a melody, a concert in the air that floats or emerges from the esoteric substance of each color, and that melody, escaping from the canon, is the one that frees the painting from itself until showing it as it is: break or cut, scar, flutter, pure pasion of the impurity that does not allow to be domesticated by the influences; which are not the influences of his own volcanic nature, also carried by the falcon gaze of the painter; the nature as was, and will be neither good or bad, more like indifferent.
By force of persistent erasures, Humano has converted the canvas into a dark night, like the night of the soul of Saint John of the Cross; and in that obscurity, if one scratches with the nail of the gaze, what one discovers is the other cape from which the prussian blue serves as curtain to the grape (malva) zones,where nocturnal animals sleep, insects and leafs, that do not delay to metamorphose; in all that begins to be perceived on the other edge; the first splendor on the purple patio where the mayan turtle begins its rounds. Thus returns the melody of the human dharma (virtue), and its aspiration to jump over the wall with the first crow of the cock; that each morning builds a new empire. The mayastatic empire of the gaze. Here, Human, guided by the multicolored breath of the colibri, recovers the adanic extravagancy that allows him to penetrate with firm hand on the diverse and multiply the cumulus of differences that conform our identity.
In this manner, with his style shaped from hearing so many times the caramillo (small flute) of the custom house officer, identical to himself, loyal to the pact of his painting and of his blood, parting from the creative ignorance; has painted what he never knew would be painted, anticipating a knowledge that that has not delayed to illuminate; turning real in the canvas where the unfinished is established in an infinite process,that; as life itself, doesn’t end to create and re-create itself. In this lies the mystery of his paintings and the master key of his modernism. Reason had the ancient japanese masters in leaving at the margin of their pantings a space in blank. That invisible zone which painters like Ricardo Human, use, to paint what cannot be seen, the foretold and the divine.
Alfonso Quijada Urías
Poet, writer and painter
Valley of Our Lord, Quezaltepeque
El Salvador, november 2000