Lindslee and His World of Lifelike Monsters, Madres and Modern-Day Saints

(SPOT.ph) Remember the viral drunk guy from the ALT art fair in February? The half-naked bald man that had the crowd of collectors, artists and art fans doing a double take—before they walked closer to study this figure slumped on a Monobloc, a taxidermied maya perched on its head? For many, it was their introduction to the artist Lindsey James Lee, or simply Linds Lee (can even be Lindslee—he's okay with that, too), who makes these incredibly lifelike figures made of resin and cast wax. Even up close, you’ll mistake the work for the real thing, because the attention to detail is simply astonishing, from the grime and oil that glazed his skin to the folds in his belly.

Now imagine giving him a barkada. Which is what Lee did recently in his solo show at Finale Art File in Makati. Drunk Man (or "Weight of the Day", selling at ALT last Feb at P730,000) found himself in curious company, part of a crew that includes 1) an imperious nun reminiscent of the small town religious ladies in Lino Brocka’s Tinimbang Ka Ngunit Kulang; 2) a dubious-looking manggagamot; 3) an artist on his knees; 4) an honest-looking salesman, with a white attache case on his side and the look of defeat on his face; and 5) an obese politician, sweaty, sleazy, a scumbag from an ‘80s action movie, his barong and jersey shorts literally bursting at the seams.

Welcome to The Grand Scheme of Things, which in large part is this gathering of archetypes in Philippine society, each one a participant in a culture of complicity. Meanwhile their appointed saviors, in the form of unusual crucifixes, are seen nailed on the gallery walls and out of reach.

The show drew an unprecedented number of visitors to Finale, easily becoming one of the most visited shows in art this year, alongside Geloy Concepcion’s Things You Wanted to Say But Never Did at the Ateneo Art Gallery, and MCAD’s Olafur Eliasson show, Your Curious Journey, now on the last stop of its world tour and closing on the 15th of November. If one were to gauge it from the hundreds of videos that has since featured Lee’s Finale show on social media, The Grand Scheme of Things is being lauded both for the extraordinary work invested in these lifelike sculptures, and for holding a mirror to society at the moment.

While many might have encountered Lee’s works only recently, because of the popularity of his sculptures on social media, the 47-year-old artist has actually been at it for over two decades.

Lee was born in Bacolod City but spent his growing up years in Hinigaran, Negros Occidental—about an hour away from Bacolod. His father was an architect who ended up running his own hardware and general merchandise store. “Our place was full of trees and completely surrounded by nature,” Lee recalls to SPOT.ph. “Right beside it, my uncle had an auto mechanic shop full of scrap metal and junk.” While this setting may have opened his eyes early to what materials can do, his early exposure to artmaking was thru his father. “There weren't any art supply stores anywhere nearby back then, but I was already heavily exposed to art through my father's drawings.”

Linds' father is an artist at heart. “But his generation was different. During his time, only a few careers were acceptable, which is why I think he went into architecture. But he once told me, ‘Your brother is a doctor; he needs to read lots of books. You, on the other hand, need to create your own book.’ That inspired me a lot.”

The young Negrense moved to Manila for college, taking up Bachelor of Fine Arts and majoring in painting at the University of Sto. Tomas. “That was where I was exposed to so many things, including proper art materials. I became obsessed with them, but I couldn't afford to buy them.”

Adjustments needed to be made and not only when it comes to access to the tools of his trade. “Back in high school in Bacolod, I always won competitions using just poster colors and pastels—those were practically the only materials you could find there. But when I got to Manila, it was all about raw talent. A lot of my classmates were extremely good, and that inspired me to work much harder.”

The hard work eventually paid off, but it also happens Linds was at the right place at the right time— the art scene in the early to the mid-2000s was extraordinarily vibrant. There was so much art happening, from the Megamall's galleries to Maginhawa, to Rock and Ces Drilon’s Magnet in ABS-CBN and Katipunan. There was an artist group called Surrounded by Water, which had Geraldine Javier, Mariano and Yasmin Ching et al as members, and Future Prospects of Cubao X, the space ran by students and followers of conceptual art champion Roberto Chabet.

It is in this exciting, stimulating scenario that Linds found himself in. “After graduation, I had the chance to join an exhibition in Megamall, where I was luckily accepted by collectors and galleries,” Linds remembers.

One of the early admirers of his works is the gallerist Jay Amante of Blanc who has in his possession two Linds Lee paintings from 2010. “Oozes with confidence these works,” Jay says. “Ang gulo-gulo pero ang ganda-ganda.” And what does he think of his most recent output? “I think this new collection is relevant and represents a step forward in promoting Philippine contemporary art. We needed that boost so much! Thank you Lindslee!!”

Lindslee began his artistic journey with abstraction before going into sculpture. Soon he was adding the latter to his canvases. “I gradually added stuffed animals or taxidermy into my abstract works, and eventually learned how to build statues. It was so gradual that I didn’t notice the shift.”

What was it like shifting from abstraction to conjuring art outside the four corners of a canvas? “It was a gradual evolution for me," he says. "For me, my career has been like going from raw to refined, and I think I will eventually go back. It’s like an evolution, from nothingness to life, and then back to nothing again…It’s like meditating, having no feelings, or letting go of a lot of things."

The Grand Scheme of Things didn’t only turn out to be quite the loaded commentary it didn’t plan to be, it also became a mini-retrospective of Lee’s artistic career. It makes space for his abstract works which marked the early years of his practice, and for his mixed media works from previous exhibitions.

An example of the latter is the upside down cross made of clocks hanging in one gallery wall. Then there’s the round table filled with leftovers of a Filipino handaan—all made in resin and Lee’s other trusted materials—where the artist imagines his cast of characters gathers around and leaves everything in a mess, as if the feast was devoured by wild boars. Meanwhile, the presence of the birds on the heads of the nun, albularyo, and drunk are a nod to the period when Linds was exploring taxidermy.

Lee didn’t set out to put such a “serious statement” show in The Grand Scheme of Things, which is closing this weekend. However, the back and forths with his curator, Carina Evangelista, resulted in an exhibition that easily connects to the biggest issues of the day, among them the BIR scams and flood control projects, as well as the firmly entrenched systems that allow these to happen (and allow honest men like Mr. White Attaché Case above to think how bad can a bribe here and a kickback there be, when everyone else gets away with them?)

“If you look at them, one by one, you can still see the humor," says Linds who originally wanted a more lighthearted show. "But if you look at the whole thing, when you put it in a serious light, it’s like we’re all doomed. Parang as Filipinos we don’t have a choice eh. Kaya if there’s a tragedy we’ll just laugh it out. Nakangiti na lang tayo.”

Which begs the question: Does Linds Lee recall experiencing some sort of political awakening? “I don't think I had a political awakening," he says. "I just have this spiritual awareness to look beyond this life that we are living, speculating realities and expressing it through my art forms.”