Arce’s philosophy of intricacy • PhilSTAR Life

Suspended on ropes in a cavernous alcove called Almacenes Reales at Fort Santiago, Intramuros was a suite of paintings by the artist who goes by the mononym Arce.

Large-scale, with colors meant to resonate with the earth tones of the famed walls surrounding them, and dazzling in their intricacy, the works thoughtfully consider the architectural context of this so-called “city within the city.” This approach, to use art terminology, was meant to be “site-specific,” but for Arce, the exhibition “Roped: The Reflection of the Past, The Enlightenment of Our Destiny” was really a communion with the past with its rich, fevered history, and how its strands reach deeply into the present and the psyche the Filipinos.

Presented by Art Underground, the exhibit was in display for only four days, from Dec. 10 to 13, in due to the vulnerability of the works to the elements as the venue was completely open.

Though the pieces appear sculptural and sturdy, they’re actually oil on canvas: through Arce’s masterful manipulation of canvas and application of pigment, the paintings maintain a structural integrity, appearing like tapestries from a distance. Once the viewer takes a closer look, globules, dabs, and folds of paint become visible—a constellation of impasto strokes evoking petals of flowers or trailing vines.

“Roped: The Reflection of the Past, The Enlightenment of Our Destiny,” presented inside Intramuros, was Arce’s communion with the past with its rich, fevered history, and how its strands reach deeply into the present and into the psyche of the Filipinos.

“The challenge was how to make powerful works,” the artist told me in a chat over Zoom. “I went to the venue almost every day for five days, internalized what the place had to offer: the echoes, the footprints, the exotic herbal plants. When the walls get wet when it rains, that’s when their colors appear. During my visit, I toured the museums inside (Intramuros). I saw the old garments worn by saints and priests as well as some paintings.”

Arce’s use of the word “powerful” in relation to his pieces is telling. His paintings needed a margin for charge in order to respond to the immensity—both visible and invisible—of Intramuros. Almacenes Reales is no white cube. Soon, Arce was deciding on his color palette (which changes with each and every show), determining the composition that would vibrate in unison with the site, and focused his energy on making works large enough to handle the weight of all the paint he would use.

Once the audience stood before them, the works presented a richly-textured horizon in which lines, colors and shapes became the vehicles through which a kind of soulful expressiveness seeped through.

Always posed as a question, the paintings are meant to evoke a reflective attitude so the viewer may consider hopeful conditions of the future.

Arce’s process for this exhibition involved draping the canvas on a small frame, which he would then stretch onto a bigger box-type frame. As a nod to his show’s engagement with history, the box frame was then fitted to an antique mirror frame. Once the viewer looks at the painting, they would be able to gaze back at themselves—conceptually, at least.

Beyond the meticulous technique, however, what Arce wanted to underscore in this show was “the link you have to your faith, to God. If it’s strong enough, you don’t have to worry about the past, the present and the future.”

The religious impulse is something that Arce, a Catholic, always attempts to exemplify in his exhibitions. For him, the evident beauty in his works is but a conduit through which the audience can reflect on the more enduring things in life and access what he straightforwardly calls “inner peace.”

Such a naked declaration of belief in the context of art may elicit skepticism—if not outright derision—from some quarters, but for Arce, “it’s who I am…It’s cool not to be cool.”

Once the viewer takes a closer look at the painting, globules, dabs, and folds of paint become visible — a constellation of impasto strokes evoking petals of flowers or trailing vines.

Arce even spoke of entering his studio as having spiritual undertones, comparing it to an act of prayer. Without any preparatory design, the artist allows himself to be moved by a force far larger than him, commencing the painstaking process of applying oil paint (which takes a long time to dry) one stroke at a time on the canvas.

Hours after, having had no food or water, he would emerge from his studio, having finished his gift of grace, now ready to spark the imagination—and the spirit—of the viewer about to receive it. The recently concluded “Roped” was Arce’s impromptu church.