Crítica

Crítica

Critics Discuss of the Work of Fernando Rivero:

Antonio Morales, Director of the magazine "Correo del Arte" and a member of the Royal Academy of Fine Arts of San Telmo, writes, "…I have always said, and truly realized during his last exhibition at the Sokoa Gallery, that Fernando Rivero is the finest still-life painter Spain has produced since Sánchez Cotán, Zurbarán, Valdés Leal and, most recently, Luis Eugenio Meléndez."

Augusto Manuel García Viñolas states that "Fernando Rivero prefers to leave things as they are, free from any conventional interpretation, alone in the honest evidence launching with tremendous authority towards the viewer from the background, always black, supporting the image. This silence that protects the perfection of an impassive figure has an extraordinary eloquence of its own. The real appearance of the objects fixed on the canvas by Fernando Rivero now cannot give any more of themselves. Realism has been stretched to its furthest. Rivero's mastery of the form allows him to deny nothing--wrinkle, spot, or shadow--from the inherent nature of the thing. But it would be to deny us of his mastery, of his biggest triumph if we didn't say that at the other end of the surprise produced by the versimilitude of an image, is an almost religious esthetic emotion evoked by a well-executed work that makes us forget even the perfect form that it comes from."

Francisco Prados de la Plaza writes that "it's not a matter of copying a likeness, it's a matter of creating a new view of reality. To present, as Fernando Rivero presents, an illusion of reality so strong that it cannot be discredited even by the most detailed examinations under magnifying glasses. It is thanks to that curious little test that it becomes clear what a superb realist Fernando Rivero is in this most demanding art form...".

Mario Antolín adds that "Rivero is a painter full of talent and possessing such mastery of his noble profession that each painting sings in praise of the humble simplicity of every small detail. His Spanish realism...is not based in the indistinct fog of memory, nor does it blur the silhouette with the more-or-less forced dream of his internal world. Rivero limits himself to transferring the reality of small things to the canvas-- things which, because we see them so often, we had never really looked at them before, and for those of us who are not artists, we had never known how to find. In my opinion the essence of Fernando Rivero is that the reality he offers us is not merely a copy of the reality around us, rather, it is an intelligent, poetic, and clear pictorial reality."

 George W. Staempfli wrote,(During an exposition of Rivero's paintings in New York), "Fernando Rivero paints small, meticulously realistic still lifes of everyday objects, fruit and flowers. There is a miniaturist perfection about them, an almost trompe l'oeil three dimensional illusion, which focuses lovingly on every tiny detail, on every fiber and chip of color. His still lifes are part of a centuries old tradition, which began in the seventeenth century with Carvaggio, and developed through Baugin, Velázquez and Zurbarán. Though Rivero's work has a strong Spanish Realist flavour, the roots of his way of seeing go back to the Italian and Dutch artists of the 17th and 18th centuries as well. Perhaps the strongest and most important influence is the work of Zurbarán, whose seemingly casual compositions, the use of beams of light to pull out glowing color areas against dark and mysterious backgrounds, is typical also of the work of Rivero. Both painters achieve cohesive pictorial presentations by the careful combination of related shapes and colors, and by balancing contrasting shadow areas and muted highlights. Each still life radiates luminous power from the depth of its interior space."

José Pérez Guerra, meanwhile, writes that "he is an artist that has assimilated techniques and perspectives and has witnessed distant resolutions and paints with a purity rarely seen, a purity that begins with the initial sketch, the drawing, with that sense of proportion that causes forms to burst forth into spaces, that configures compositions out of harmonic air. He doesn't work with monumental topics that lend themselves to rhetoric, nor does he care to explain to us the abstractions present in any of us, nor does he need to resort to Baroque flourishes to improve his work, like a series of Author's notes to a dense, or simply empty speech... ." 

On the occasion of a new exhibition in Madrid, the newspaper Cinco Días published the following review: "His dark, neutral backgrounds heighten these simple still lifes (a vase of flowers, a basket of lemons, a scale with grapes or a few mandarin oranges, for example) are always well-outlined and centered over the cloth. His sure and exacting brushes faithfully render every millimeter of the painting...".
And finally,

Antonio Manuel Campoy, the art critic who has written the most about Fernando Rivero, and who has prefaced catalogues of his many exhibitions, writes: "It surprises me how perfect everything is, how alive it all is, how it is the result of long, creative, laborious hours; rich, fertile hours that Fernando Rivero devotes to the things that he loves--these flowers, these fruits, these objects that have ceased to be what they were in order to become pure paint. Could it be that the most profound elements are to be found in the simplest and humblest of objects--a bottle by Morandi, in a newspaper by Juan Gris, in apples by Cezanne, in Zurbaranesque crockery, in a vegetable by Sánchez Cotán, in a brilliant rose by Antonio Moro, in the most basic objects painted by Fernando Rivero in the Madrid oasis that is his studio. It is usually in these small painted things that glory resides. The small things painted by Chardin stayed in the shadows because the painters of Versailles monopolized the Palace limelight for themselves. But in the end, that period is Chardin's period. A good part of Fernando Rivero's time will be his, whose great achievement has been to give new life to realism, taking it off the pedestal where it was placed by the realists, those who are truly painters of dead lifes. The natural paintings of Fernando Rivero, on the other hand, are alive, alive like the thistle of Sánchez Cotán, the turnips of Chardin, the cooking-pot of Zurbarán, like the Tudor rose of Antonio Moro...".

Fernando Rivero: The Voice of Inanimate Objects
By Pedro Brosa Ballesteros 
Collector of Art/Lawyer (1985)

If it were possible to imagine the ideal still life, I would like to see the combination of the following all in one single work of art: the somber themes of the Spanish school of the seventeenth century, the delicate and sensual beauty of the great Dutch and Flemish Baroque Masters, and the Italian chromaticism of the seventh century. All of this together with the soft trompez l'oeil practiced so expertly by the French still-life artists of the time.

Would this be too much to expect? And if it were indeed possible, could it be done without compromising the very essence of each artistic style?

Without having even having posed the question, Fernando Rivero has given us the answer. Yes, it is possible. So possible, in fact, that his own hands have fashioned the ideal still life into something very real indeed. And the special qualities of each style shine through in his art without overshadowing one another.

Rivero's work brings the great truths of the best still-life art from the Golden Age of European painting to our time. In the wonderful balance of his paintings we can appreciate the harmonious synthesis of the simplicity of Zurbarán, the finesse and beauty of an Osias Beert or Claesz Heda, the chromatic light of Caravaggio, and the brilliant eye of Baugin.

Still, in all of this, he pays tribute to the humbleness of these objects.

Too often it has been said that still-life painting is a lesser art form; that it is a representation of things dead rather than a celebration of life; that it is decorative art used solely to adorn palaces or mansions, but never a great work in and of itself. And yet, these works have always awakened the senses of those who love art.

I do not share the disparaging attitude towards this art form. Fortunately, today we are witnessing a veritable boon in the appreciation of the still-life. What's more, all the great masters included it, in one form or another, in their body of work: Velázquez, Rembrandt, Goya, Zurbarán, Caravaggio, Vermer de Delf all painted sublime still lifes. Each knew how to use his palette to honor the silent enchantment of objects. There is no such thing as a lesser art form.

The still life is important because the wonder of painting will never be limited to one genre. Painting an object's voice possibly requires more mastery than simply preying on people's emotions from the canvas.

In Rivero's case it is clear that we are presented with a master of the genre, and above all, a great painter.

I hasten to substantiate such a sweeping claim.

Rivero is not a typical still-life artist, nor does he allow the fashionable conceptual definitions to hem him in, because he does not want to define his personality by sensationalist distortions or hyper-realist exaggerations. He's not the embodiment of a pure technical genius, nor should we view his work merely as representational. Rivero paints reality, with all the simplicity, depth, and rich nuance that this implies. I am not saying that his work is simply a copy or photograph of reality, nor is it sensationalism or sophisticated interpretation. This would be to see only the artist's surface, seeing only a hollow, cold vision of someone whose eye and heart are so full of love and wisdom.

Rivero does something much more difficult: he loves the objects, he chooses them carefully, he identifies with them, and he recreates them. Under his care, the simplest and most everyday items become elevated to the highest level, delighting the senses. The objects live, complete in their isolation, shining alone within the chiaroscuro setting them off, isolated from any other surroundings in order to give richness to their presence. The fruit, the marbles, the boards, the cloths, the books, the scales, draw us into a dialogue of understanding--the same dialogue he has maintained during the laborious process of their creation. The essence of this dialogue remains, emerging from each canvas, captured at the very moment of conception of the painting or in a fleeting glance at the object.

Time stands still on Rivero's canvases. One's gaze is caught between wonder and delight, and the instant in which the objects existed; one's gaze is riveted, wondrously, by the splendor of their beauty. An aura of emotion--the soul of art--reaches out from the painting to the viewer. It is easy to see that Rivero has managed in a way very few others have done to achieve the sublime mission of the artist which, in the words of Ortega, consists of perpetuating the ephemeral.

If this isn't what painting is, then exactly what "-ism" can classify it?

Rivero needs no critical acclaim or subjective definitions to sustain his artwork; neither the empty, esoteric language of easy flattery nor the presumptuous intellectuals who discount the worth of his work will affect it. His work shall last--popular, direct--inspiring wonder and emotion in all who look upon it because it projects a world familiar to everyone: a simple, everyday world, rediscovered and recreated by the brilliant and exceptional eye of our artist.

Rivero's world is a world of ripe, spotted fruits on a frayed, old cloth or atop a rustic table constructed from a packing crate; an antiquated scale with iron weights, the cost of the purchase still on it; a coffee grinder; worn books; marbles borrowed from our youth; the ancient typewriter, whose abandonment is duly recorded at the pawnshop; tinfoil; the empty earthenware jar and wicker chair, whose labors are momentarily forgotten...; the paper cones filled with peanuts or sunflower seeds... . But what if we want something simpler, more moving? Then there are the flowers, the exquisite flowers from his hand, posssessing the same simple, lovely fragrance as those flowers that fell from the hands of Friar Luis or even Assisi himself.

What richness of subtlety and color! What a wealth of detail exists without overwhelming the overall concept of the work! What perfection in the drawing and the execution! Why abandon perfection to satisfy some hypocritical "-ism" if the technique has already been mastered? Ah, if only the non-academics could paint like this! And the light! Rivero's treatment of light is the foundation of the mystery and joy of his things. In Rivero's paintings it is difficult to determine whether the light is shining on the subject or emanating from it. And you know, maybe even he himself doesn't know. Rivero isn't a painter; he's a poet.

poet of dazzling things

you the brush, the canvas your words.

Only one more step towards discovering man.

But Rivero is not just a painter of things. He also paints people. Yes, people. These people who elude his artistry are present in his paintings. Their humanity peeks out from behind the objects. Look closely. Humanity, the humanity of the being that placed the objects where they are and that lives with them, infuses the paintings. They speak of his care or his carelessness; of his action or his inaction; of history and the memories associated with it; of time standing still, passing, or the expectation of what's to come; of contact with the being that gave life itself to these objects, giving them a voice, a being of presence. Rivero's paintings are no longerstill lifes. His artistry has transformed the genre. He paints living lifes.

I have seen Rivero's show, and I returned home with my soul filled with emotion and pleasure. As I entered, the furniture, the chairs, the tablecloth, the fruit, smiled at me. I looked at them, grateful, as though seeing them for the first time. My world had been enriched and my things exuded the beauty of their existence. An unsettling question occurred to me--is it possible that anything exists in this world without a soul?