'Memory Moving Sideways' by Alex Roulette.

‘River of Styx’ by Peter Williams @ Luis De Jesus Los Angeles & ‘Gap in the Net’ by Alex Roulette @ George Billis Gallery

November 6, 2018

Recently within the Arts District of Culver City there was one disappointing and one intriguing opening. River of Styx by Peter Williams at Luis De Jesus Los Angeles unfortunately smudged the sacred artistic landscape with brutish political dogma, rendering no public outlet of common life safe. Is the whole of human existence rendered to just that, political confrontation? If so, what a sorry pessimistic outlook! Such a belief condemns mankind to eternal conflict. Is it not possible to dream of a better state of humanity than irascible racism?

 

This work, as gorgeously stylistically innovative as it is, may be interpreted positively as cathartic. Yet it is conditioned necessarily by contemporaneity; its foresight onto the horizon of the eternal fails miserably. But perhaps this is an opinion – that racial tensions will be nonexistent in a future time? If this is but a dream, shared by the saintly Martin Luther King Jr., can’t its belief be made more visceral with the dream-weaver’s artistic incantation of love? Why then must we suffer with disdain? The collection of works is conclusively antithetical to the aim of good art. It does not lift man up toward what is beyond him, instead it arrests him in a house of broken glass, saturating his soul’s pores with toxins.

 

On the contrary to this lowliness, we have Alex Roulette’s Gap in the Net at George Billis Gallery which provides us with newfound glory ergo hope about the human condition. Mr. Roulette paints with a surreal photogenetic amalgam of human industry and Natural wonder. It is a uniquely rare insight, one so far away from the often-condemnable affiliation of humanity’s will-to-power and its master over its nature and the natural world – we speak most pronouncedly of the environmentalist dirge of the loss of Planet Earth’s virginity.

 

Instead, we do not see a defilement of Planet Earth, but a symbiosis of human artifact with Mother Nature. Instead of viewing human will power with such haughtiness, as if it has the power to destroy what has been present eons before its arrival, Mr. Roulette ingeniously encapsulates the meagerness, in a humbling manner, of human efforts at acclimation, at genuine adaptation to its environment. It is a temporary fancy, as a product of the dominance of Scientific progress in Western Culture, to suggest that humanity has overtaken the submissive efforts of a ferocious nature which has been a furious rival to its ambitions of liberty. Even further, that humanity’s aims are unnatural in itself, is a spectre of Christendom’s damnation of human will.

 

Here then, in ethereal beauty, we see the matrimony of humanity’s efforts at domesticating the wild with the wilderness’s own pacific riposte. The folly and genuine mirthfulness of the human spirit is presented, stripping away the politics of the day. It presents then eternal symbols of the equilibrium of the natural world, as opposed to obsolete anxieties on the depravity of the human condition.

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