Ricardo Rendón

Writing about the sculpture, installations, and sound art of Ricardo Rendón tends to leave one breathless. There is so much to discuss about this Mexican artist who is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, it is difficult to know how to start. Maybe the old journalistic formula is best: the what, why, when, where, and how. His what is tremendous because Rendón is omnivorous in his use of materials. He works with industrial felt, iron, wood, paper, and more—all manipulated with punches, pulleys, and tools of physical force. He invites people to watch the construction and deconstruction of works as performance art. Or standing in front of the finished individual pieces, the viewer naturally imagines being with the artist in his studio in Mexico City during its making because the detritus of the process remain and are part of the final work. He has created, for example, installations using the ravaged trees confiscated from illegal logging, which he fashioned into eerie, reconstituted forests. Every material has a texture and a story. He says, “I always leave traces of the manufacturing process in my work.”

Why does he make art? Josefa Ortega, curator at the Museum of Modern Art, Mexico City wrote, “Ricardo Rendón's proposal is about the work processes involved in manual trades such as carpentry, blacksmithy and construction. Thus, starting from the use of objects, tools and materials linked to these jobs, Rendón produces works in which the repetitive dynamics of everyday work are rebuilt.”

When and where? His most recent exhibitions have been at art fairs in Chicago this spring and now the group exhibition, “Anteparaíso” at La Galería Rebelde in Guatemala City, Guatemala. His list of exhibitions is so long and so global, that the most succinct description of his renown is to say that he exhibits regularly in museums and galleries in every hemisphere on the planet. A visit to his website’s exhibition history is like a vicarious trip around the world.

Lastly, the how? Everything about Rendón’s art points to the physical act of its making and by extension, an elevated acknowledgment of skilled, often unappreciated laborers whose traditions he honors. These fine art objects made with hand tools echo the work of those in the mine, the factory, the mill, and the workshop. He wants the viewer of his art to see its beauty—and they are definitely that—but never to forget whence the inspiration, materials, and magic spring.—Glen Nelson (Through September 16, 2022.)