Cleaner Gallery + Project’s latest exhibition Fruitless: Paintings by Christian Campos depicts interactions between humankind and nature. Painted scenes of trees, bushes, birds, domestic animals, and marshy plant life immerse the viewer in natural settings found across the midwest.
Fruitlesss is Christian Campos’ second exhibition with the gallery. Up until seven months ago, Cleaner Gallery + Projects operated under the name Night Light Gallery with a micro gallery exhibition space limited to 35 sq ft in the storefront window . Programming was halted in February due to COVID-19, and the gallery began operating under its new name and broader gallery space in July of 2020. In addition to being an exhibition space, Cleaner Gallery is a non-profit organization that provides affordable studios and facilities to artists in Chicago. The expansion and name change occurred after Cleaner Gallery’s director Ryan Burns remodeled the studios and built out the gallery to 235 sq ft in order to accommodate more works and allow for two-person exhibitions.
Christian Campos, “Fruitless Crucifixion,” oil on canvas, 60″x37″, 2020. Photo by Megan T. Noe.
Visible from the street is Fruitless Crucifixion, Campos’ largest painting in the exhibition. Depicting a barren tree standing at commanding 5 ft tall and 3 ft wide and lit from below, the piece glows eerily in the window. Campos considers the tree to be the focal point of the exhibition which is evident through the exhibition’s title. Fruitless is also a reference to the poem Song of the Barren Orange Tree by Federico García Lorca which Campos utilizes as an exhibition statement:
Woodcutter.
Cut my shadow from me.
Free me from the torment
of seeing myself without fruit.
Why was I born among mirrors?
The day walks in circles around me,
and the night copies me
in all its stars.
I want to live without seeing myself,
and I will dream that ants
and thistleburrs are my
leaves and my birds.
Woodcutter.
Cut my shadow from me.
Free me from the torment
of seeing myself without fruit.
Translated by W.S. Merwin
Campos tells me he is interested in the personification of the barren orange tree which provides the tree a voice and concerns he relates back to his painting. Campos suggests the tree is aware of its plight given the time of year, and the same concern and scorn can be felt throughout the show.
Extending the personification of the tree are visual elements depicted in the painting, such as the decorative face fastened onto the tree. There is a dichotomy between the natural and manmade, where the anthropomorphized tree displays anguish by way of the decorative “face.” The tree is in literal distress as well, as depicted by the equally damaging but more explicitly violent knife wound. The odds at which the man made aspects evoke pain and anguish are otherwise absent in the natural scenes, as the birds and squirrel show no obvious pain or distress. Only the artificial conveys this message.
It is unclear to the viewer what the outstretched hands signify in this crucifixion scene. Humankind is depicted in several of Campos’ works as painted hands interacting with nature, which can be seen as an extension of the viewer into the painting. This is the single instance where humankind is depicted to look menacing in his interactions with nature. Holding a tree branch in the right hand, it’s hard to say whether the figure is taunting the tree or looking to help. When asked for an interpretation, Campos leaves this up to the viewer – deviant or worshiper, antagonistic or helpful – the ambiguity is part of his intent. Viewing the tree as a Christ figure seems oddly appropriate given humankind’s relationship to nature and our current climate crisis. If this painting sets the tone for the rest of the exhibition, it is absurd, humorous, and perhaps a little dark.
The first thing to catch my eye upon entering the space is a painting of a cat hidden in the bushes. Campos’ painting Seen appears like a hedge, with green leaves that engulf the rectangular canvas. Within this painting hides a grey tabby cat with glowing green eyes peering at the viewer. What catches me off guard is the orientation of this painting, hanging just above the floor trim, inches from the ground. As I look around the gallery walls, it becomes clear to me that each painting is hung oriented to life. This dynamic installation model prompts viewers to engage with the artwork more carefully. Typically gallery installations are hung 58-60 inches from the center of a painting, at “eye level” which is standard practice. The issue with this is that it allows for viewers to crank their necks passively around the room without inspecting the work more closely. Arranging the artwork relative to life creates a facsimile of the world Campos navigates, appearing almost like a stage for the viewer, while creating a sense of place.
While the locations depicted in his paintings aren’t geographically exact, Campos is inspired by biomes in the Midwest where he lives. Many of his subjects are pulled from his everyday banality — his pet, views from his parent’s home, trees he’s passed while walking dogs, or images he’s received in texts. Campos further explores the narrative of man’s tumultuous relationship with nature in his work Brain Trauma (in the Bush), by painting an oil slicked pelican. When asked about the painting, Campos explains, “The oil slicked pelican is an icon itself – a symbol of human abundance and man-made catastrophe enacted on nature. Catastrophe happens when natural laws get overridden. The pelican is a coastal bird that is found on all continents except Antarctica – which gives the setting a sense of ubiquity.”
Common to many of Campos’ paintings is his use of amorphous colorful backgrounds. Planes of yellow, turquoise, green, and maroon are applied in dense layers with gradients of color that push the boundaries of the pictorial frame. Campos tells me he “always finds ways to frame the backlit negative space in order for the foreground figures to glow.” While many of his color choices come from nature, some of Campos’ chromatic decisions are made to determine a mood for his paintings which runs the gamut from menacing to whimsical. Within a dark plum colored canvas a finger dangles in front of a cat. The dark background of Campos’ Touched seems to imply a sinister interaction is about to take place, a cat’s attention is often met with claws.
The textured surface and finely rendered details of Campos’ paintings can be lost if not inspected carefully. Campos’ works have multiple underpaintings that contribute to the depth of surface and meaning. The entire surface, whether canvas or panel, is built up from layers of paint, oil paint scraps, and textured gesso that are worked over again and again. Campos says the textures make his job harder to push the soft gradations in his work. Having these smooth subjects on a gunked up foundation informs Campos’ painting style.
While most of Campos’ subjects are purely visual, he is working with themes of shame, self-delusion, scorn, and the transactional kinship in between the human and animal world.
Campos has always had a fascination with birds. His triptych Constellation was born from an interest in depicting the fluffy round bodies of bearded reedlings which have remarkably serious faces. Constellation mocks stoic nature scenes by incorporating the gawking eyes of the reedlings. This is the only species of bird in the exhibition that cannot be found in North America, native to the wetlands of Europe and Asia.
Campos’ work Summer Pupae hangs at torso height. The painting is an embellished representation of a photo Campos’ received over a text message and plays into the theme of the exhibition viewer as voyeur. Relating the painting back to Federico García Lorca poem, Campos tells me “Paintings want to show off their genitals. It’s the flipside of the ‘Barren Orange Tree’ in Fruitless Crucifixion.”
Christian Campos, “Summer Pupae,” oil on canvas 20″x16″, 2020. Photo by Megan T. Noe.
These snapshots of bodily fragments, birds, woodland animals, house pets, and nature appear as a play setting for the viewer to interact. Campos’ work echoes both voyeurism and exhibitionism. While cats want to be both the seeker and predator, “we undermine their instinct with a flashlight that blows their somewhat inconspicuous hunting zones with their own [glowing] eyes.” Our relationship to nature both well-intentioned and otherwise is depicted in these scenes, through companionship with domestic pets, bird-watching, tree carving, and pollution.
Fruitless: Paintings by Christian Campos is on exhibit at Cleaner Gallery and Projects now through October 24, 2020. Gallery hours held on Saturdays 12-3 pm. Masks and social distancing required.
Lauren Iacoponi is an artist, curator, writer, and arts administrator living and working in Chicago, IL. Iacoponi received her MFA from Northern Illinois University with a Certificate in Art History and her BFA from Columbia College Chicago with a Minor in Art History. Iacoponi is the Director and Founder of Purple Window Gallery, an artist-led project space coming soon to Avondale and the Director and Co-founder of Unpacked Mobile Gallery.
Instagram handle: @lauren.ike View all articles by Lauren Iacoponi
Cleaner Gallery + Project’s latest exhibition Fruitless: Paintings by Christian Campos depicts interactions between humankind and nature. Painted scenes of trees, bushes, birds, domestic animals, and marshy plant life immerse the viewer in natural settings found across the midwest.
Fruitlesss is Christian Campos’ second exhibition with the gallery. Up until seven months ago, Cleaner Gallery + Projects operated under the name Night Light Gallery with a micro gallery exhibition space limited to 35 sq ft in the storefront window . Programming was halted in February due to COVID-19, and the gallery began operating under its new name and broader gallery space in July of 2020. In addition to being an exhibition space, Cleaner Gallery is a non-profit organization that provides affordable studios and facilities to artists in Chicago. The expansion and name change occurred after Cleaner Gallery’s director Ryan Burns remodeled the studios and built out the gallery to 235 sq ft in order to accommodate more works and allow for two-person exhibitions.
Christian Campos, “Fruitless Crucifixion,” oil on canvas, 60″x37″, 2020. Photo by Megan T. Noe.
Visible from the street is Fruitless Crucifixion, Campos’ largest painting in the exhibition. Depicting a barren tree standing at commanding 5 ft tall and 3 ft wide and lit from below, the piece glows eerily in the window. Campos considers the tree to be the focal point of the exhibition which is evident through the exhibition’s title. Fruitless is also a reference to the poem Song of the Barren Orange Tree by Federico García Lorca which Campos utilizes as an exhibition statement:
Woodcutter.
Cut my shadow from me.
Free me from the torment
of seeing myself without fruit.
Why was I born among mirrors?
The day walks in circles around me,
and the night copies me
in all its stars.
I want to live without seeing myself,
and I will dream that ants
and thistleburrs are my
leaves and my birds.
Woodcutter.
Cut my shadow from me.
Free me from the torment
of seeing myself without fruit.
Translated by W.S. Merwin
Campos tells me he is interested in the personification of the barren orange tree which provides the tree a voice and concerns he relates back to his painting. Campos suggests the tree is aware of its plight given the time of year, and the same concern and scorn can be felt throughout the show.
Extending the personification of the tree are visual elements depicted in the painting, such as the decorative face fastened onto the tree. There is a dichotomy between the natural and manmade, where the anthropomorphized tree displays anguish by way of the decorative “face.” The tree is in literal distress as well, as depicted by the equally damaging but more explicitly violent knife wound. The odds at which the man made aspects evoke pain and anguish are otherwise absent in the natural scenes, as the birds and squirrel show no obvious pain or distress. Only the artificial conveys this message.
It is unclear to the viewer what the outstretched hands signify in this crucifixion scene. Humankind is depicted in several of Campos’ works as painted hands interacting with nature, which can be seen as an extension of the viewer into the painting. This is the single instance where humankind is depicted to look menacing in his interactions with nature. Holding a tree branch in the right hand, it’s hard to say whether the figure is taunting the tree or looking to help. When asked for an interpretation, Campos leaves this up to the viewer – deviant or worshiper, antagonistic or helpful – the ambiguity is part of his intent. Viewing the tree as a Christ figure seems oddly appropriate given humankind’s relationship to nature and our current climate crisis. If this painting sets the tone for the rest of the exhibition, it is absurd, humorous, and perhaps a little dark.
The first thing to catch my eye upon entering the space is a painting of a cat hidden in the bushes. Campos’ painting Seen appears like a hedge, with green leaves that engulf the rectangular canvas. Within this painting hides a grey tabby cat with glowing green eyes peering at the viewer. What catches me off guard is the orientation of this painting, hanging just above the floor trim, inches from the ground. As I look around the gallery walls, it becomes clear to me that each painting is hung oriented to life. This dynamic installation model prompts viewers to engage with the artwork more carefully. Typically gallery installations are hung 58-60 inches from the center of a painting, at “eye level” which is standard practice. The issue with this is that it allows for viewers to crank their necks passively around the room without inspecting the work more closely. Arranging the artwork relative to life creates a facsimile of the world Campos navigates, appearing almost like a stage for the viewer, while creating a sense of place.
While the locations depicted in his paintings aren’t geographically exact, Campos is inspired by biomes in the Midwest where he lives. Many of his subjects are pulled from his everyday banality — his pet, views from his parent’s home, trees he’s passed while walking dogs, or images he’s received in texts. Campos further explores the narrative of man’s tumultuous relationship with nature in his work Brain Trauma (in the Bush), by painting an oil slicked pelican. When asked about the painting, Campos explains, “The oil slicked pelican is an icon itself – a symbol of human abundance and man-made catastrophe enacted on nature. Catastrophe happens when natural laws get overridden. The pelican is a coastal bird that is found on all continents except Antarctica – which gives the setting a sense of ubiquity.”
Common to many of Campos’ paintings is his use of amorphous colorful backgrounds. Planes of yellow, turquoise, green, and maroon are applied in dense layers with gradients of color that push the boundaries of the pictorial frame. Campos tells me he “always finds ways to frame the backlit negative space in order for the foreground figures to glow.” While many of his color choices come from nature, some of Campos’ chromatic decisions are made to determine a mood for his paintings which runs the gamut from menacing to whimsical. Within a dark plum colored canvas a finger dangles in front of a cat. The dark background of Campos’ Touched seems to imply a sinister interaction is about to take place, a cat’s attention is often met with claws.
The textured surface and finely rendered details of Campos’ paintings can be lost if not inspected carefully. Campos’ works have multiple underpaintings that contribute to the depth of surface and meaning. The entire surface, whether canvas or panel, is built up from layers of paint, oil paint scraps, and textured gesso that are worked over again and again. Campos says the textures make his job harder to push the soft gradations in his work. Having these smooth subjects on a gunked up foundation informs Campos’ painting style.
While most of Campos’ subjects are purely visual, he is working with themes of shame, self-delusion, scorn, and the transactional kinship in between the human and animal world.
Campos has always had a fascination with birds. His triptych Constellation was born from an interest in depicting the fluffy round bodies of bearded reedlings which have remarkably serious faces. Constellation mocks stoic nature scenes by incorporating the gawking eyes of the reedlings. This is the only species of bird in the exhibition that cannot be found in North America, native to the wetlands of Europe and Asia.
Campos’ work Summer Pupae hangs at torso height. The painting is an embellished representation of a photo Campos’ received over a text message and plays into the theme of the exhibition viewer as voyeur. Relating the painting back to Federico García Lorca poem, Campos tells me “Paintings want to show off their genitals. It’s the flipside of the ‘Barren Orange Tree’ in Fruitless Crucifixion.”
Christian Campos, “Summer Pupae,” oil on canvas 20″x16″, 2020. Photo by Megan T. Noe.
These snapshots of bodily fragments, birds, woodland animals, house pets, and nature appear as a play setting for the viewer to interact. Campos’ work echoes both voyeurism and exhibitionism. While cats want to be both the seeker and predator, “we undermine their instinct with a flashlight that blows their somewhat inconspicuous hunting zones with their own [glowing] eyes.” Our relationship to nature both well-intentioned and otherwise is depicted in these scenes, through companionship with domestic pets, bird-watching, tree carving, and pollution.
Fruitless: Paintings by Christian Campos is on exhibit at Cleaner Gallery and Projects now through October 24, 2020. Gallery hours held on Saturdays 12-3 pm. Masks and social distancing required.