In a sunlit corner of the Newark Museum of Art, a taxidermied calf wrapped in chains stares back at you. Its lifeless form, an emblem of labor and imprisonment, confronts the viewer with an unsettling allegory: the unseen cost of paradise. This is the work of Bony Ramirez, a self-taught artist whose first solo museum exhibition, Cattleya, transforms the ethereal beauty of the Caribbean into a piercing critique of colonialism and its lingering shadows.

At the heart of Ramirez’s exhibition is the Cattleya orchid—a deceptively delicate bloom.

Both attach themselves to a host, extracting life while offering little in return. This duality—aesthetic allure masking deep-rooted exploitation—permeates the show.

In Sitting on a Bucket of Paint (Self-Portrait as a Calf), Ramirez uses a suspended taxidermied calf to represent himself, bound by the labor that fuels others’ visions of the Caribbean. It’s a visceral metaphor for the exploitation embedded in colonialism and the modern-day tourism industry.

A Dialogue with History

Ramirez’s mixed-media paintings and sculptures don’t merely recount historical events; they weave a surreal narrative that blurs the lines between fantasy and reality. Take Cattleya, a portrait of an aristocratic woman whose distorted features and blind eye reflect the fractured legacy of colonialism. She clutches a bleeding chicken, her hair styled into horns adorned with an orchid—a haunting juxtaposition of beauty and violence.

Tourism as Modern Colonialism

In Caribe Express/Caribe Tours, Ramirez magnifies the modern iteration of colonialism: tourism. This 27-foot-wide painting is a tableau of contradictions. Tourists lounge in a sparkling pool, their silhouettes filled with monochromatic landscapes, while masked servers, rendered faceless by their vejigante masks, toil invisibly in the background. The piece underscores the exploitative dynamics of an industry that commodifies culture while erasing the people behind it.

Tourism, Ramirez argues, is not simply a lifeline for the Caribbean economy but a mechanism that perpetuates servitude. During the pandemic, many Caribbean nations loosened travel restrictions for foreign tourists while imposing strict protocols on locals.

Our own countries put our people in danger.

– Ramirez says.

His work forces viewers to confront this uncomfortable reality: the paradise sold to tourists is built on the sacrifices of the local population.

Surrealism Rooted in Memory

Born in Tenares, Dominican Republic, Ramirez immigrated to New Jersey as a teenager. His memories of the Caribbean inform every brushstroke and sculpted shell. In Coral, Coconut Portal, coconuts and conch shells frame a dark-skinned girl holding a pot of crabs—symbols of resilience and adaptability. The portal beckons viewers to step into Ramirez’s world, one where magic and reality intertwine, yet the scars of history remain.

From Construction Worker to Artist

Ramirez’s journey to the art world is as layered as his canvases. A self-taught artist, he began creating art while working in construction, learning to problem-solve with limited resources. His lack of formal training, he believes, allowed him the freedom to forge a distinctive style—an amalgamation of magical realism, surrealism, and sharp social critique.

The Beauty of Confrontation

Ramirez’s works are unapologetically confrontational. They demand that viewers look beyond the idyllic postcards of the Caribbean to grapple with the colonial and economic forces that shape its reality. Yet, there’s hope threaded through the narrative. Ramirez wants Caribbean audiences to see themselves in his work—not just as subjects of exploitation but as symbols of resilience and beauty.

As Ramirez continues to explore new mediums, including taxidermy and ceramics, his art remains steadfast in its mission: to tell stories that are both personal and universal. In Cattleya, he has created a vivid, layered world—a world that invites you to escape, only to hold a mirror up to the reality you left behind.

 

If you’re near Newark, do yourself a favor: step into Ramirez’s art universe. Confront it. Revel in its beauty and discomfort. And remember, as the Cattleya orchid clings to its host, so too do the legacies of colonialism cling to the world Ramirez so masterfully depicts.