The art of Noah Purifoy (1917-2004) – political, avant-garde, outsider – defies easy categorization, as does his way of working. In an essay for the catalog that accompanied “Junk Dada,” Purifoy’s 2015-2016 retrospective at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Franklin Sirmans described him as both an “artist’s artist” and an “artist- activist”. The terms seem to contradict each other, the first suggesting a hermetic disposition, the second an inclination to direct action. Purifoy, however, flipped between the two. In addition to being the first full-time African-American student at the Chouinard Art Institute in Los Angeles (now known as the California Institute of the Arts), the artist was also a social worker, modernist furniture maker, a co-founder of the Watts Tower Arts Center, an expert in arts policy and a rural philosopher. Today he is best known for his Outdoor Desert Art Museum in Joshua Tree, California, where he lived and worked from 1989 until his death. There he solidified his commitment to found object sculpture – a desire catalyzed by Watts’ uprising in 1965 – but on an architectural scale.
The exhibition of his work at the Tilton Gallery featured wall assemblages created at a pivotal time in Purifoy’s late career. After leaving a job at the California Arts Council in 1987, the artist kept a studio for two years in a former Masonic lodge in Los Angeles, then settled permanently in Joshua Tree. Much smaller than the monumental sculptures of Outdoor Desert, these pieces show him exploring a range of techniques, embodied in framed collages of intimate size as well as larger, more complicated constructions.
Purifoy’s works testify to a mixture of inspirations. One can detect aspects drawn from the artist’s upbringing in the American South, combined with his neo-Dadaist sensibilities and a Californian eccentricity, the last of which can be traced to astrological memorabilia, spice jars handcrafted, metal jewelry and cowboy accessories included throughout. his work. Even the simplest pieces on display, collages of rusted metal and wood, revealed more than their humble constituent elements. An untitled work from 1987, for example, resembled an ancient fertility goddess with a tin can lid as a head. Purifoy’s sculptural constructions, however, testify to his ambitious approach to architecture and design. The abstract wooden tile And Pavilion Iboth from 1988, constructed with interlocking organic elements, suggested the influence of Kurt Schwitters mythology Merzbau, California. 1923–37. Another work, an untitled and undated construction containing an image of a sundae topped with cherries, a large dirt-covered account book, and a saw, among other objects, all neatly tucked into the compartments of a large white frame irregular in shape. /shelf—nods to Pop art in its humorous take on commercial signage.
Purifoy’s approach to creating art at this time oscillates between dense metaphor and clear narrative. Two works piled up with excess stuff, A white brush and a ponytail And Rags & Old Iron I (after Nina Simone), both from 1989, paid tribute respectively to artistic creation and to the iconic musician and civil rights activist. Simone is evoked through materials such as a tennis racket, a vintage mirror, golden slippers and a plaque with the word FESTIVAL engraved on it, upside down. Count “Fatha” Hines, 1990, meanwhile, is a graphic and playful portrait of the eponymous jazzman. Purifoy depicts Hines with a piano keyboard for teeth – he’s surrounded by contrasting geometrically patterned fabric pieces.
In hanging tree, 1990, a dark fabric-covered branch rested on fabric-covered panels depicting a bright blue sky and a hanging figure in the middle of the composition with pale straw hair. On one side of the subject’s chest – where the heart would be – Purifoy sewed a piece of stained cloth printed with apocalyptic messages, such as SEND JOHN WAYNE TO VIETNAM AND MARLON BRANDO TOO and COMPUTER’S KILLING THE HUMAN BRAIN. This disturbing and politically charged work of art, created at an isolated desert site, telegraphed a warning about technology, war, media and local racial violence. Undoubtedly, the urgency of the artist’s dual commitment to art and social justice has only deepened over time.
