By ION on May 20, 2010 in CULTURE
Ray Caesar
Barbie. The most famous doll of them all. And one that would face a crude awakening were she to slip from the plastic grip of Ken’s arms and fall into the dark, unhinged world of Ray Caesar’s creations. Ethereal porcelain doll-like creatures, their cherry lips plump, eyes wide but devious and gestures provocatively foreboding, there is no doubt that these peculiar figures would eat the vapid blonde alive. While confessing to possess a strange fixation with dolls as a young boy, the Toronto-based artist now confines his interaction with the toys to a virtual world—his art.
Viewers take in a seemingly innocent setting of nimble Victorian dolls, only to be confronted by a darker reality once they delve further into Ray’s images where things are not always as they seem. The surrealist art has been labelled as representative of loneliness, sadness and tragedy, but Ray views his images in a different manner. “For me, my work is very personal and I see a lot of hope and calm. My figures are not afraid of the dark as that is a place they call home,” he explains. “They are aspects of my subconscious and it’s our subconscious that is the dark side of our personality. We can be afraid of the dark or we can go into a dark room and feel around with our hands and see the room in a different way than what we see with the lights on. I believe the room in the dark and the room in the light are actually two different rooms. I actually believe my work is very gentle and quite sunny.”
Ray’s art is unique not for its content alone, but also for the creation method behind it. His work is entirely digital and created with Maya, a three dimensional modeling software. This allows the artist to gain a more intimate link with the Gothic fantastical universe he creates in each picture. “[With Maya] I can view the image from many angles and change things like a movie set. I can place meaningful items like love letters and lockets with images of my departed sister inside music boxes,” he reveals. “Girls may actually be boys in dresses and the hidden things have a power just because they are there and because I know they are there.”
A similar vein runs throughout the features of the dainty characters in Ray’s work, due largely to the formation process behind the images. The digital creations are born from 3D models sculpted from the artist’s own body and that of his wife’s. “When I model, I trace the outlines of my own eyelids and run my fingers over my wife’s lips … their bruises and scars and blemishes are ours. They are a form of self portrait of my soul I suppose.”
Ray has an acute understanding of the strong tie which his identity has to his work. A man who describes himself as a dog in his biography, confesses to wallpapering his body in post-its on occasion and, one who spent much of his childhood wielding a knife whilst dressed in his mother’s frock may indeed be labelled as unhinged by society. It is these unique attributes, however, which form the foundation for a brilliant creative mind such as Ray’s.
The English born artist’s colourful past is indeed deeply indented in his work. He cites his now deceased mother and sister as strong influences behind his work, their support juxtaposed with a less than desirable male presence in his early life. “The fact I survived my childhood is somewhat surprising to even me,” he says. “When you’re in grade four and sitting in class, you can’t just put up your hand and tell your teacher that you think your father is a crazy person. Life doesn’t work like that, so you find a way to survive it and one way is with art.” It is somewhat surprising that, having survived a turbulent childhood, he went on to surround himself in an environment darkened by anxiety and fear: The Hospital for Sick Children in Toronto. Ray devoted close to two decades working in the photographic department of the hospital which documented child abuse, surgical reconstruction and animal research. “I had a strong belief that fate wanted me to witness something and like the idiot I was, it took close to two decades before I realized what I was seeing. I don’t think I would be making art today if it wasn’t for the struggle I had in dealing with some very deep emotions.” What eventually prompted Ray to leave this job haunts him to this day: a photograph of a young murder victim. This image, which he describes as an act of “Pure and Absolute Cruelty,” acted as a catalyst for his digital creations. “I still think of that child in the picture,” he admits, “she is very much part of my work. I don’t think you can be a human being if you didn’t want her to have a safer kinder place … so I make a picture for the memory of her to live in.”
It is in his pictures where Ray finds an escape from reality—the ability to create a world where its inhabitants can wander free from the shackles of the society. He explains, “I create a sanctuary of calm for difficult memories and souls. The good and kind are welcome in their world, but the cruelty of men and nature had best beware and keep their heads down low.” Having passed a significant amount of his life on a therapist’s chair, Ray has discovered that the creative process behind his art is itself a form of therapy and considers it, in every respect, lifesaving. “I have always found a refuge in putting overwhelming experience into a picture,” he says. “The act of doing this allows me to compartmentalize a difficult memory … to make a better place for an overpowering feeling that my mind can’t handle. You write or sing or knit your way through something and place your energy in that thing you create.”
When quizzed about the most rewarding aspect of what he does, Ray is quick to point to, what he refers to as a “peaceful endeavour that doesn’t bring pain or heartache to anyone.” Sure, his provocative images may cause the super conservative to look the other way, but this artist intends to neither offend nor distress. Rather, he sets out to offer viewers an invitation to an alternative universe, an alternative, rather bizarre, reality where, cliché as it sounds, you can leave all your troubles behind. Unless of course your name is Barbie. In that case, you had better watch your back.
Words: Sinead Keane
