Ron Mariñas : The lush beauty of drama.

By JT Gonzales

Beauty is in the eye of this artist. 

Ron Mariñas looks at the world, and extracts subjects of desirability.  Apollo in a towel.  Blonde gods and jocks, crowned with floral wreaths.  Soldiers in armor and skin, in various states of repose.

Ron explores a varied smorgasbord of iconography, layering coats of yearning upon his canvasses, meticulously fashioning limbs and chiseled jaws, and bringing forth potent images that still, aren’t quite erotic.  Perhaps, they may be better described as alluring, yet forbidden, fruits of his imagination. 

The twenty-something emerging artist clearly has a voice, and it is a voice he employs to dramatic effect. Suggestive poses, Hermes and Chanel bags, and smoldering sensuality dominate his works.  Honed at the Fine Arts program of the University of Sto. Tomas, Ron’s career has been blessed with support from his parents, both coming from outside the art world.  (His father is a civil engineer, his mother is a middle school teacher).  That support must have been key to him graduating from art school with an outstanding thesis.

From school, it was on to the real world.  Ron has been steadily exhibiting in various Manila galleries, landing not just group shows, but his very own solo exhibitions at Secret Fresh and Metro galleries, among others. Employing lithe figures with big city attitudes, garbing them in an amalgam of modern day luxe-cool with old-world robes, Ron has carved out a distinct space for himself. 

And he knows that. He has gotten attention, and as with any new kid on the block he has received his fair share of critique.  But criticism is not always welcome, and so, when asked what would be his dream exhibition, the response became a pushback against those who might constrain his expressive style.

Ron says “…my dream exhibition is one where I can truly make a noise and be my full self, not just as an artist, but as a person. Most of the time, artists are expected to compartmentalize their real selves from their careers, and that unspoken rule is something I’ve always found hard to follow. Because one, I evidently use my real name as an artist, so I speak the truth and depict it through art. 

“Second, my works are deeply personal. I paint my truth … like writing in a diary. … I still struggle with how the industry often sees only the beauty of the art, when for me, the real beauty is what’s behind it. And third, I want to portray the drama of the story, the art of drama.”

“This industry is afraid of drama, but I believe it’s what makes art real. In this industry, drama is often treated as a euphemism for something negative or scandalous, something unsafe or unsellable. But for me, life has drama and that’s what makes art, art. And art should be relatable. Every painting tells a story, and every story needs drama and truth. That’s my dream exhibition: to stop playing safe and express myself fully through my art.”

To paraphrase, therefore, in Mariñas’ view, art becomes relatable when it is authentic.  In this age of millennials and Gen Zs, where social media is ubiquitous, and filters and AI have come to dominate, to be authentic is key.  Realness is how his generation will be able to relate to him.   

Ron’s works, perhaps unconsciously, capture therefore the zeitgeist of a certain subset of humanity: young residents of the sprawling metropolis that is Metro Manila, keenly aware of the difference between the haves and the have-nots, straddling the high fashion absorbed through magazines and social media, yet acknowledging that their reality is set in the midst of jeepney drivers and street vendors.  Ultimately, they are supremely conscious of the burdens that those in the upper middle class take on to  champion the oppressed (a role that, unfortunately, the upper classes have shed in their perpetual accommodation with the powers-that-be).

By contrast, Ron’s earlier works were a startling melange of Greco-Roman classicism, glittery gold and fiery red adorning and consuming his subjects.  And what subjects they were. Limpid eyes, rock-hard pecs, and lean muscles all serving as fitting tributes to the gods. 

Yet, as with all artists, Ron has slowly but noticeably evolved.  From chasing and shaping golden perfection, Ron has in recent months gradually refocused on a palette bursting with a multitude of colors.  Hues so vibrant, they register as almost neon, yet without hitting that off-putting frequency that hurts the naked eye.

For gallery. sort of., Ron unveiled stylized almost-portraits of him and his friends, boozing it up in their fashion finery, yet hamstrung by the pathetic  public transportation system available to them.  In jeeps with their stilettos and faux fur coats, or riding an Angkas motorbikes in frocks, the gang manages to party the night away. Midnight snacks come by way of penoy baluts, and street corners are conveniently transformed into makeshift restrooms.  This is the reality that surrounds them, that makes them, drama very much included.

Is this why Ron idolizes, aside from Vincent Van Gogh, the singer Lana del Rey, whom he identifies as an inspiration?  ‘Even before I was introduced to her art in writing, I already had my own identity and style in how I express my art. When I discovered her work, I saw a strong resemblance in our styles, or at least something I want to be even more daring than.  

“Her art appears elegant, old money, graceful, and some will say (with a) prim and proper vibe on the surface, but it’s mixed with the complete opposite like controversy, drama, darkness, sensuality, and danger. That combination shows the truth of our reality, that kind of mix of elements that people often find unusual or unexpected. “

“Many of my viewers describe it as “a fun combination,” in my art, something that has a little kick to it. What we see is not just beauty; there’s always something behind it. That hidden truth is what makes it real, and Lana Del Rey expresses that poetically through her music.”

Beauty rooted in reality, then.  This is the throbbing imperative in Ron, and we should expect to see that thread in his future works.  Although as to what’s next after his Tambay, Toma, Tropa two-artist exhibition with Zuh Dai, there’s not a lot of detail yet.  

“I’m the type of artist who gets anxious when my next year is already planned out, and that’s something I know I need to work on personally. In this industry, it’s hard to stay professionally spontaneous. Still, I’ve been in talks with a few galleries about possible shows for next year. I’m really looking forward to working with a gallery that’s collaborative and open to helping me expand my creativity as an artist. And I’m planning to do a solo exhibition again next year…”

Vague on specifics, but we already know, even this early, there’s going to be beauty in it.