Through the prism

Preface – Art Exhibition Catalogue  Spirit by Christopher Ross-Dick, Trinidad & Tobago.

Flickering candles, lightning, streaks of white across the ocean, fireflies. How is it that the simplest glimmer of Light holds the power to soothe and stir the depths of our imagination?

How could we ever forget our very first spectral encounter? The way the light enters the cracks of a shut window or a grandmother’s board house… Once where there was empty space, as we look closer: countless, minute, floating particles, spinning effortlessly in mid air.

Back in the 17th century, Newton introduced the term spectrum, referring to the range of colors observed when white light was dispersed through a prism. In so doing, his work revealed the journey or path of Light through space and equally what becomes visible when there is an explosion of this light.

A deconstruction. The sky is not blue, and neither is the ocean. Color as we know now, is simply the range of visible light that we can see, within specific wavelengths. Different colors, such as red and orange, and other invisible spectrums such as infrared light, continue to exist and move around in waves of electromagnetic energy…Similarly, ideas about the metaphysical prove that there are in fact many parallel realms in existence, beyond that which our human eyes are able to perceive. From the indigenous, ancestral to the scientific: yearnings for the spirit world-s and the spiritual, through omens, signs, patterns of the mystical, have populated our collective consciousness since the beginning of time.

Light, Space, the realm of the intangible. Conscious of our human limitations, the quest for the eternal, the ethereal, and the Great Beyond seems never ending. There is a knowing, an agreement that some things are seen, felt, experienced and others, forever beyond our grasp.

“When the gardener is not there, what remains?” Christopher asks me. “The activity of the gardener, the sensitivity to patterns, beauty and structure”, is his reply. He is right. A clear understanding and acceptance of elements beyond human control, which are at work, are also vital, I think to myself. The garden, or the gardener’s world testify to their motivation and inspiration (or lack thereof). Similarly, the worlds we create around us speak to our sensitivities, concerns, ideas of necessity, value, belief systems…all of this without our physical presence at any given moment. The histories, memories and the relationships of everything which surrounds us. Cause. Effect. Action. Reaction. Interaction. Metamorphosis. Isn’t this what we call the sweet spirit of a place or genius loci for some?

Everything we see is an accumulation of things learnt, processed, formatted, impacted, affected, under a certain influence. But under the influence of what? Remains the eternal question. In this new series of works, Christopher Ross-Dick invites us to investigate, and attempt to define what we are seeing. As we observe the dialogue between visibility and invisibility, light and dark, shining and muted, absorbing and scattering, there is order and chaos. There is also a way in which polar opposites enable, coexist and interfere with each other, in addition to the impact of the unseen or invisible on human endeavours, as he explains: “the implicit influence on human behavior by unseen forces.”

We are asked to revisit the prism, look closely through it. Examine our source-s of Light, observe what comes next. Light, synonymous with the desire for salvation, hope, deliverance and transcendence can thereby reveal a number of things to us. The veil is ripped. This exercise requires a shedding of dictates, projections and all other artificial fabrications. We accept to contend with meaning, and the making of meaning, which will never be the same for any of us. Yet, we can agree to believe that what we see is a shared experience.

As we lean in, we are able to see what is there, what has always been. Ever so imperceptible. Illumination. Scattered particles, floating atoms, brilliant cosmic visions or maybe, it’s all flowers in the end.


What is Light, if not the absence of darkness?
What is darkness, if not the absence of Light?
What is matter, if not the absence of space?
What is space, if not the absence of matter?