Angel Irlanda

It's widely thought that science and art reside at opposite poles. Science, many argue, with its reliance on cold, hard facts has no place in art, where the more ethereal faculties reign. Somewhat hobbled by its insistence on proof, science hems itself in with its own parameters, whereas in art, parameters are unheard of, and the impossible is often only a brushstroke away.

They are, on the surface, very antithetical disciplines. However, as local artist Angel Irlanda proves, there is an invisible point at which the two converge. And as Irlanda would be quick to tell you, that point of convergence isn't so much invisible as unseen.

It's not surprising, then, that when he first began sketching in his native Puerto Rico, Irlanda drew equal inspiration from his artist mother and his father, an engineer. His father in particular engendered an interest in the sciences, inspiring the young Irlanda to look into the principles behind spatial relationships to achieve his visual aims.

Subsequent studies in architecture and industrial design laid the foundation for a fanciful artistic philosophy grounded in logic. Like the Renaissance masters before him, whose use of perspective echoed discoveries in astronomy, geography, and medicine, Irlanda began studying physics and anatomy on his own, eventually scrapping plans for a promising career in architecture to pursue art full time, much to the dismay of his instructors.

Considering his pedigree, it would have been understandable if he'd followed a path toward realism, but readings in psychology and psychoanalysis dovetailed with the tenets of the surrealist movement. Irlanda further confounded critics who expected his paintings to reflect Latin American or Caribbean influences -- bright primary colors, political undertones, or primitivistic Aztec motifs. A look into his portfolio shows a bold disregard for these stylistic clichés in favor of carrying on the work Salvador Dalí left unfinished, with its emphasis on the subconscious, dreams, and our tenuous grasp of true perception.

"It took Dalí a lifetime of work to reach the point where he felt he found his true voice," Irlanda says. "'I've only just begun,' were his dying words. I'm starting where he left off, which is the responsibility of future generations of artists, to finish the work (their idols) began. I know the direction Dalí was trying to go. I've only just started and still have a long way to go. I could have started from the very beginning, learning techniques from the ground up, but that's not evolution." In keeping with this idea, Irlanda calls his own work hyper-surrealism, a kind of heightened continuation of the genre.

Showing me some of his sketchbooks, Irlanda describes how the creative process begins. Starting with the conception of an idea, he employs the tried-and-true scientific method, and pages are scattered with terms, trajectories, graphs, and diagrams among human figures and vast landscapes. "In physics," he explains, "there are three common factors: space, time, and light. Within the confines of science, these are sometimes immutable realities. In art you can control and manipulate them and play with them to get some interesting results. Physics is a reality and art is an illusion. I can represent things on canvas that I can't elsewhere. And no one gets damaged."

Most of his ideas stem from questions he ponders and the theories they produce, and each of his paintings is a conclusion derived from intense study. "It is human instinct to question. We use electricity, but we don't know what it is. It is the same with gravity; we use it and rely on it all the time. But I like to look for the possibility of what would happen if it weren't there." Indeed, Irlanda's planning a series of works devoted to the concepts of levitation and dematerialization.

In addition, language -- the unspoken, unwritten language of the mind -- figures prominently in his work. "I've learned to literally read art. I can see what an artist was thinking," he claims. "Later, I try to reproduce the messages, removing the unimportant elements and using only what is important. Mostly it is a trace of something hidden in the strokes." Describing some of his paintings as multi-dimensional visual representations of actual sentences, Irlanda seeks to communicate through his pieces. While the concept at first sounds strange, Carl Jung supported the idea that all humans are connected by a collective "race memory" each of us taps into every time we dream. In this mindscape, a lingua franca of symbols connects us regardless of our culture or differences in spoken language.

In affecting this, Irlanda tries not to insert too many personal factors in ("It's going to happen anyway," he allows) in hopes of touching a wide audience. "Personal imagery sometimes distracts the viewer from the real message and creates confusion," he says, and many of the paintings' initial conceptual plans reveal a far more crowded area. "Sometimes there is too much information to put in one space and the paintings go through many stages before they are complete."

Another interest is rendering multiple dimensions simultaneously, allowing the eyes (and mind) of the viewer to travel effortlessly through space and time. "They say it's impossible to show the fourth dimension, but I am interested in trying to show the fifth, sixth, and even the seventh dimensions," he tells me, using the analogy of origami to illustrate the ways in which a flat, single dimension, when folded, can created multiple dimensions and space where once there were none. I wonder if he finds it hard balancing these two disciplines at all. "Yes, you have to be careful, because too much reason destroys imagination," Irlanda avers.

As to his new life here in Indialantic, where he's been for three years, Irlanda is more than content. "In the bigger cities, artists are always talking and trying to make themselves understood, but no one's listening." He says he prefers the ease of communication here and the promiximity of nature for visual and mental stimulation. Looking at Irlanda's paintings, one can only guess that the additional presence of the space program incites equal inspiration.

Angel Irlanda's works can currently be seen at Imago Gallery and Wine Bar (701 E. New Haven Ave., downtown historic Melbourne; 728-3938) and online at: www.myspace.com/irlandagallery. In addition to creating paintings and drawings, Irlanda is also a skilled tattoo artist, and sculptor, whose "Gothic Geisha" series has been drawing local accolades. He's also at work perfecting a way to print some of his images onto rice paper for application to surfboards and skateboards. Irlanda is available for all manner of custom work in any medium. He can be contacted through his website, at (321) 914-4818, or through Creative Framing by David and Co. (1891 S. Patrick Dr.; Indian Harbour Beach; 773-7560) where he creates custom frames and handles art restoration.