Gustavo Ramos Rivera, Arreglos Intuitivos / Intuitive Arrangements, Saint Mary’s College Museum of Art
When Intuition Rests on the Studied and Assimilated
By Jan Wurm
These are days of turmoil and fear for many throughout California.
But driving through the Caldecott Tunnel, emerging into rolling hills and languidly curving roads leading to St. Mary’s College, it is easy to overlook the slowing of breath, the loosening tensions in muscles, and the suspension of thought as vision fills all senses.
The campus is dotted with gleaming white buildings nestled in village-like community. The college art museum draws the visitor in from the sidewalk, walkway, or courtyard – ready to embrace anyone who enters. Winding up the zig-zagging ramp of small, dark, near-monochromatic landscape paintings in praise of Yosemite, one reaches the nearly hidden: a small jewel box of an exhibition in this teaching museum.
Gustavo Ramos Rivera is represented by a selection of works on paper expanded by a few large-scale paintings. Modestly titled Arreglos Intuitivos / Intuitive Arrangements, the notions of instinct deflect from the finely calibrated shapes, color equivalences, and rhythmic markings. As the artist humbly speaks of approaching the blank sheet with a scribble, a random squiggle of a line, it may ring arbitrary. But as the eye and hand launch into that ecstatic dance that wields a carefree energy, finding place, it is igniting a process like flipping the “on” switch. Everything is summoned to duty, all resources are mustered in readiness.
There are short digitized film clips of Matisse that show his hand finding the line of a lip, the curve of a curl, or twisting scissors cutting seemingly random scraps of paper that then are arranged in bursting ascension. These are the spontaneous acts that in fact rely on decades of image-making anchored in space and wielding a hand that moves through learned and experienced choreographies. So too does Gustavo Ramos Rivera deftly cross the surface of paper, the weave of canvas, as if this seemingly simple, unguarded energy traveled unconstrained, without boundary. But the intuition of movement, placement, and focus rests solidly on a foundation of color and celebration, from childhood through a long life of seeing, reflecting, and responding.
When the formal aspects of line, shape, color, and composition all align in harmony, a strong aesthetic is satisfied. A deeply ingrained aesthetic can direct, push and pull, adjust and readjust, until the eye is satisfied by a just-right balance. And most satisfying is a picture in which not only does the painted image align with the support — the structure of canvas, paper, or panel — but when it also resonates with the thematic focus. Gustavo Ramos Rivera achieves this in an extraordinary triumvirate of material, form, and content: titled Encuentro en la Plaza / Encounter at the Plaza, this pictorial rendering is more than an abstraction or literal recording of time and place. The lower dark corner squares place the viewer in the cool vantage point above the plaza with an open view of all that plays out on a public stage.
Four small colored squares occupy the four corners of a square piece of canvas. A white line connects these corners while claiming corridors of space along the edges. The square is mirrored in the corners and again in the linear square drawn in white, and then reinforced by the surrounding pathway created on the solid blue ground. The inner color field is not left to languish: squares appear again in single, doubled, stretched, and broken forms, populating the pictorial arena. The white line marks pathways that trace and retrace movement – fast, slow, and hesitations between.
Similarly, the painting, Vista del Estudio / Studio View, lays out a topography that is intimately entwined with the artwork and its evolution. Beyond color and line, the artist puts texture into play as well. Though in many works collaged elements may appear, here matters of texture predominate as a commitment to form. The square shape is built up to have a presence lifting off the picture plane. Not just by solidifying blocks of color, but by raising the surface, does the square hold objecthood. Not just by drawing and redrawing a line, but by incising into the raised paint does the mark hold a sculptural assertion.
Intuition is a fine thing to follow. It rarely leads one astray. But intuition is not, even without a formally schooled art education, without building blocks of cultural aesthetics that surround and permeate the guidance system that leads to choosing one shirt over another, one shoe over another.
Ramos Rivera speaks of many influences: Georgia O’Keeffe, Frida Kahlo – his list is long – and when he cites Juan Miro, Piet Mondrian, and Antoni Tàpies, the fragrance of the soil and warmth of light are conjured forth. These become a heady brew to fuel a studio passion.
The artist has said, “People who lose their childhood are lost.” Incorporating collaged elements such as loteria cards is only one aspect of reaching back to remembered games and histories. The very way in which paint is applied, space is punctuated and occupied, the unleashed line charges diagonally across the surface, and all of these declarations assert a pleasure in play.
This is art to bring cheer and joy; it lights up the day with color and movement.
Gustavo Ramos Rivera is not disengaged from the world outside the studio, but finds social expression through the promotion of art: in Ciudad Acuña, where no art museum stood open for his young eagerness of childhood, he is now building an art museum designed by his brother, architect Gabriel Ramos Rivera. With financial challenges and logistical complexities, this is a galvanizing project to stir all imaginations.
Within the studio, the colors and voices of home imbue an art practice with emotion and weight. Beyond the studio, long-gestating images and blossoming constructions reach back to bridge the past and present of a culturally-divided life, recording all the pleasures between.
Gustavo Ramos Rivera – Arreglos Intuitivos / Intuitive Arrangements at Saint Mary’s College Museum of Art, on view through December 14, 2025