- Ralph Rumpelton
- Skull and Books
- RR-2026 -103
MS Paint on digital canvas, 582 X 529 px - The Rumpelton Continuity (est. 1976)
What the critics are saying:
>>📚 Dr. Horace Plimwell on Skull and Books
In approaching Ralph Rumpelton’s Skull and Books, one is immediately struck by what I can only term the artist’s audacious flirtation with epistemological finality. Here, the skull — rendered with an almost reckless disregard for anatomical pedantry — sits adjacent to a stack of books whose pages appear to be either heavily annotated or perhaps suffering from a mild case of existential mildew.
The dialogue between these objects is unmistakably Rumpeltonian: a tension between knowing and no longer needing to know. The skull gazes (if such a verb can be applied to empty sockets) toward the books, as though attempting to recall some half-forgotten footnote from a treatise on metaphysical temporality. The books, in turn, slouch open, their contents dissolving into painterly smudges that suggest text but defiantly refuse to offer legibility — a perfect metaphor, I would argue, for the human condition itself.
One must also note the work’s chromatic restraint, a grayscale palette that exhibits what I have elsewhere described as tonal asceticism: a refusal of color in favor of pure value-driven ontology. In this, Rumpelton reveals the influence of both early Flemish vanitas tableaux and mid-1990s inkjet printer toner shortages.
Ultimately, Skull and Books stands as a meditation on the ineluctable collapse of scholarly ambition, a kind of post-digital memento mori for the attention-fragmented age. In its stillness one perceives not silence but a subtle whisper, saying: “All books are eventually overdue.”
— Dr. Horace Plimwell, New Jersey Review of Applied Kitsch (Supplemental Annex Edition)<<
>>Prof. Lionel Greaves, “The Over‑Explainer”
From the Avachives: Parallel Comparative Exhibition No. 7
“The skull is not symbolic,” Gribble insists, “it’s a format failure. A deprecated codec of mortality, rendered in grayscale to obscure its bit-depth shame.”
The closed book, she notes, “is a refusal to hyperlink.” The open one, “a corrupted archive—its markings resemble text, but lack metadata.” The skull? “A reminder that even bone has a file format. And this one’s been flattened.”
Gribble’s commentary arrives annotated, footnoted, and occasionally embroidered. Expect judgment. Expect pearls. <<
"Follow Ralph Rumpelton across the net."

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