Gallery — Ruan Huisamen Art

Untitled II

Charcoal and graphite on fabriano paper. 72 x 61 cm. Sold

Novus

Charcoal on paper. 69 × 56cm. February 2015. Sold

Verte-de-Gris Vanitas

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I'm Not There

Charcoal on Paper. 86 x 62 cm. May 2023. Available
Portrait Award Finalist

The Ghost at the Feast

Charcoal on Paper. 160 x 80cm. August 2023. Available

Narcissus

Charcoal on paper. 88 X 75 cm. September 2024. Available

Ship Of Fools

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Death Sets In at the Feet First

Charcoal on paper. 50 x 50 cm. June 2025. Sold

Equus

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Idem

Charcoal on paper. 74 × 59cm. Sold

The Great Game

Exhibited at L’Acte Finale, GUS Gallery, 2019. Sold

Vestige

Charcoal on paper. 84 × 57cm. May 2014. Sold

Ecce Homo

Charcoal on paper. 72 × 61cm. November 2014. Sold

Aimee

Charcoal on paper. 75 x 63cm . Sold
Awarded special merit at the 2019 Sanlam Portrait Award

Ecce Homo II

Charcoal on paper. 84 x 59 cm. Sold

Effigy

Charcoal on paper. 84 × 59cm. 2020. Sold

Lacunae

Charcoal on paper, 108 × 76cm ,2018. Sold

Silver

Charcoal on paper. Sold

Wastrel

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Mandi

Finalist at the 2015 Sanlam Portrait Award. Sold

Binary

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Mime I

Charcoal on paper. 80 x 62 cm. August 2024. Sold

Mime II

Charcoal on paper. 75 × 69cm. October 2024. Sold

Fiore

Charcoal on paper, 84 x 59 cm, October 2022. Sold

Entres Nous

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“It bides its time in bedrooms, cellars, trunks, and bookshelves; and that perhaps the day would come when, for the bane and the enlightening of men, it would rouse up its rats again and send them forth to die in a happy city.”
–Albert Camus, The Plague (1947)

German philosopher Hegel once remarked that ‘The owl of Minerva spreads its wings only with the coming of the dusk’, a now-common metaphor signifying that an era cannot be judged, or indeed properly understood until it has entered its twilight phase.
This work was conceived and created at a time when the COVID 19 pandemic appeared to be approaching its inglorious resolution. In keeping with the exhibition theme, I devised a celebratory dinner scene with two aged paramours separated on opposite ends of a table, each immersed in their reveries. Placed between are various apparatuses signifying pestilence such as the rat and plague doctor’s mask.
It is not pleasant to contemplate the thoughts that must be passing through Minerva’s owls in the distance, as they undertake the task of interpreting the era of the recent pandemic and its many contradictory revelations on organized human life.
Strange times. Poor owls.