Martin Ramirez at MAM

Martin Ramirez is an enigma. For decades, he was classified as one of the three greatest “outsider” artists of contemporary American art, but next to nothing was known about him. In the last ten years, two dedicated biographers have beaten back the darkness surrounding the facts of Ramirez’s life, but this endeavor has lead to other questions.

Ramirez was born in the Jalisco region of Mexico in 1895. In 1925, like many others — then and now — he immigrated to the United States to find work. He worked on the railroad in Northern California for five years, sending money home to his wife and four children in Mexico. In 1930, Ramirez was arrested for erratic public behavior, and ultimately institutionalized, first in Stockton and then Dewitt State Hospital. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia, and lived the rest of his life in the institution, where he died in 1963.

Most of these facts were not known when Ramirez was categorized as an outsider artist in the 1970s. It was thought he might have been born in Mexico, it was thought he might have died in the 1960s. It was widely thought that he was a deaf-mute, which is not accurate. The term “outsider artist” was coined to denote an artist that did not take part in the “art world” — one that did not exhibit, did not invite or assimilate criticism, did not discuss their art. An outsider artist might be thought of as someone who refused or was unable to think of themselves as an artist.

However, along with basic biographical details of Martin Ramirez’s life, we have learned in recent years that he did exhibit during his lifetime. A professor at Sacramento State College visited Ramirez often and arranged for his art to be shown, both in solo exhibitions and as part of group shows, on both coasts. Ramirez was critiqued. He had visitors in Dewitt that came to see him to discuss his art. One must wonder if Ramirez did think of himself as an artist, especially towards the end of his life. All he had was the hospital, and his drawings.

All historical considerations and controversies aside, though, it cannot be denied that Ramirez had a vision of some sort. He was driven to create, whether or not he was an “artist” in classical terms. His drawings, on bits of paper pieced together with a glue made of potato and his own saliva, in crayon and colored pencils and whatever else the staff of the hospital had lying around, have a decidedly dreamlike quality. Viewing them, one enters a surreal realm of horses and trains and women wearing crowns. Everything is stylized, and it’s unclear how much of that is due to the fact that Ramirez was drawing from memory after being in an institution for 30 years, and how much of that is due to his schizophrenia.

My favorite of his general themes are the trains and tunnels. He does variations; there are a few drawings of cars and busses on a road, and one of boats in a canal, that all carry the same feel of the trains. A winding path wends through these pieces, with some form of transportation traveling it, and then the path disappears into a dark tunnel, or through a mountain, or under a bridge. He represents the tunnels as tightly segmented masses, suggested by parallel lines mirroring throughout the picture. They look vaguely sinister, like giant worms, and the dark entrances to the tunnels are like gaping mouths, ready to swallow the train as it speeds along. The landscapes the trains travel through are equally sinister. Mountains are represented by the same kind of tightly drawn parallel lines, undulating upwards and downwards in dizzying counterpoint.

I can’t help but put the obvious interpretation on these pieces, but then I am struck by the known facts of his life, and I have to wonder. Yes, Ramirez was locked in an institution for the majority of his adult life, and he may have felt that sinister chill, as well as the inevitable succumbing to it. On the other hand, he escaped several times during his 30-year stay, and sometimes returned to the institution of his own volition. At one point, a relative came to visit him at Dewitt, and asked if he wanted to go home. Ramirez declined, opting to stay in the hospital. His entry into that tunnel was not inevitable.

Martin Ramirez opens at the Milwaukee Art Museum on Saturday, October 6 and runs through January 13, 2008. There are numerous public educational programs connected with the exhibit, including gallery talks and lectures. A complete listing of events can be found on the Museum’s website at www.mam.org.