Thoughts about a future past
Trying to get a message from any expression of art, be it painting, sculpture or literature, I would be tempted to search the human element of any of these compositions.
The human presence would be perhaps more significant being in the central plane of the painting, to provide some stability of the message. We can find it so easy looking the profile of the goddess of ancient Egyptian sculpture named Nofret, the perfectly rendered volumes of the ancient Greek statue, from the slightly mysterious smile of Mona Lisa, or the ultimate expression of fear from Duchamp's paintings. So, there are so many ways where to choose from. Here, instead, in these paintings of Ruby, this presence is missing entirely. The viewer himself becomes participant to composition. He will get the chance to create his own world.
The painter proposes us a peek into our own amorphous world, constantly moving, towards a hypothetical Centre, hidden behind some material volumes, old soldiers imprisoned in an eternal petrification. The size of the clear-cut lines offers the promise of some spaces just as clearly as a certain tinge of binary Cartesian source.
It would be too simple understanding such a message consisting only in the conditionality created between two facts; the reality and inner being of the painting; Thus, we should not take into account the spatial fracture dictated by a new external logic, which appears in this aisle.
These paintings are suggesting us a dynamic understanding about sizes and spaces. Apses and volumes appear from an ancient history, rivers of moving geometries recalling the beginnings of a forgotten world or, why not, a nowadays cavern of our world, in which the human being, hiding from any reflection of his presence, takes in account his chance to discover another space following the vectors of these lines, searching the CENTER.
This obsession of the Centre is terrifying; the promise of fulfilment of his searches in this world had followed him all the time. The labyrinth of the ionic world in which Theseus had won against Minoan Bull near the central axis of the labyrinth was a promise for him to enter into a perfect world but his human condition had stopped him to follow his destiny doing so.
He had not stepped to the centre of the labyrinth; he had preferred to return in the arms of the Ariadne following the thread of a Clew of wool that she gave him before entering into the labirinth. Did he win or lost when he got this judgment? We do not know; to get such a response, we always need the deployment of two hypothetical consequences, but unfortunately we can choose only one.
So once again, regarding these paintings, even in their Centre, little by little, they reveal, however, the opportunity to discover a new dimension of Eden, embedded in amorphous circles, hidden in the fragments of the translucent spaces; a quiet world of an ambiguous materiality in which the colour does not exceed through violence, but only through its smooth shadows belonging to a real world.
This new arrangement of the primary elements, a game in which impossible spaces, leaving the formal logic, are coming in front, covering the real world, here's a special thematic approach, which should not be commented at all. Here, everyone has his own interpretation. At least here, we may be ourselves, we have to leave at least once the formal framework of a binary logic of a linear existence.