©2019 by Ramos Mejia.

THE ART OF ALEXIS RAMOS MEJIA

Explore the site in order to view all current collections, read behind-the-scenes musings, and find out when the next exhibition is happening.

 

STORY OF AN ARTIST

Alexis Ramos-Mejia began painting at an early age in the city of Lima, Peru. His love for the visual arts began at the Museo de Bellas Artes, (MALI) where he started studying art at the age of four. At five, Alexis won his first national competition in painting.
Alexis has shown his paintings as part of exhibitions in Lima, Toronto and London. In addition to creating his own paintings, Alexis enjoys sharing his love of art with others by teaching painting and drawing workshops.
Alexis also spends his time designing and creating murals for different public buildings with the purpose of making the language of art more accessible. "Art is generally perceived as a commodity" says Alexis, "I believe art is a powerful language, a way of communicating that can be used to its highest potential if it is practised selflessly".

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Canto General (1950)

“Cuando sonó la trompeta,

estuvo todo preparado en la tierra,

y Jehova repartió el mundo a Coca-Cola Inc.,

Anaconda, Ford Motors, y otras entidades:

la Compañia Frutera Inc. se reservó lo mas jugoso,

la costa central de mi tierra,

la dulce cintura de América.

Bautizó de nuevo sus tierras como 'Repúblicas Bananas',

y sobre los muertos dormidos,

sobre los héroes inquietos que conquistaron la grandeza,

la libertad y las banderas,

estableció la ópera bufa:

enajenó los albedríos,

regaló coronas de César,

desenvainó la envidia,

atrajo la dictadura de las moscas,

moscas Trujillos, moscas Tachos,

moscas Carías, moscas Martínez, moscas Ubico,

moscas húmedas de sangre humilde y mermelada,

moscas borrachas que zumban sobre las tumbas populares,

moscas de circo,

sabias moscas entendidas en tiranía.

Entre las moscas sanguinarias

la Frutera desembarca,

arrasando el café y las frutas,

en sus barcos que deslizaron

como bandejas el tesoro

de nuestras tierras sumergidas.

Mientras tanto, por los abismos

azucarados de los puertos,

caían indios sepultados en el vapor de la mañana:

un cuerpo rueda, una cosa sin nombre,

un número caído,

un racimo de fruta muerta derramada en el pudridero.”

Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)

ó

 

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Thank you for your interest. For any inquiries, commission requests or studio visits, please do not hesitate to contact me.