I’ve seen Noah Purifoy: Junk Dada a few times since it opened at the Wexner Center this past January. That’s normal. I like to revisit those exhibitions I’ll be writing about. Usually it’s with the intention of gathering additional details or reviewing works I expect to highlight. Sometimes it’s just to experience the overall tone of an exhibition one more time.
Junk Dada was different. In this case I realize that what I’d really hoped for during my repeated visits was for the artist to simply hold still and present a singular focal point; that he’d be one thing and one thing only. To say it plainly, I expected Noah Purifoy to provide me with a thesis statement. It’s a credit to the artist and his work that he’s resisted my clumsy efforts at pigeonholing, for it is precisely the sprawling and unwieldy nature of Purifoy’s work (and career) that gives this stunning retrospective its power.
Noah Purifoy was born in Snow Hill, Alabama in 1917. Raised and educated in the south, he received a Master’s Degree in Social Service Administration from Atlanta University in 1948. Purifoy worked briefly in Cleveland before traveling west and settling in Los Angeles in 1950. He received his BFA from Choinard (now CalArts) in 1956. While residing in southern California, Purifoy established himself as an artist, designer, arts advocate, and community organizer. He co-founded the Watts Towers Arts Center and, in the aftermath of the Watts Riots, helped organize the ground-breaking exhibition 66 Signs of Neon. Taking a break from art making through much of the 70s and 80s Purifoy rebooted his career in 1987, when, upon retiring from the California Arts Council, he moved to Joshua Tree and created his now famous Outdoor Museum. Noah Purifoy died in 2004.
Artistically, Purifoy demonstrates similar breadth and ambition. While much of his work falls under the broad category of found object assemblage (a process co-curators Franklin Sirmans and Yael Lipschutz call “Junk Dada”), there is a wide range of material interests and thematic expressions at work. In the earliest work on view, Untitled (Bed Headboard), (1958). Purifoy presents the designer and craftsman, working very much in the mid-century form oriented style. This piece sets the tone for what’s to come, as Purifoy’s attention to formal elements like balance, repetition, and harmony remain consistent throughout his career.
This emphasis on formal considerations is a critical part of Purifoy’s success and one that should not be underestimated. Too often artists use found objects as a shortcut, working as if the inclusion of some dusty gewgaw or careworn cultural relic will magically imbue their work with meaning. It won’t. A mannequin’s hand, a rusty saw, and a sepia-toned photograph of dour looking ancestors aren’t automatically art, even if someone does nail them to a piece of distressed wood and hang them on a wall. At best the results can appear inauthentic. At worst, they feel exploitative. Purifoy avoids this trap by creating assemblages of dense and rich complexity. He never loses sight of the fact that his materials have both contextual qualities and formal qualities. This awareness gives his work the natural cohesiveness that results when form and meaning exist in balance and dovetail seamlessly.
Which isn’t to say Purifoy doesn’t recognize the power of a singularly significant object. Untitled (Watts Remains) (1966) appears deceptively ancient at first, like something unearthed from an archeological dig. In fact, it is an object that’s all too contemporary and all too relevant, having been culled from the ashes and rubble of the Watts Riots. Similarly, Untitled (1966) uses only a handful of found materials to create a contemporary American version of a Congolese nkondi figure.
This sense of the sacred, of the ritualistic, presents itself over and over in Purifoy’s work. The somber richness of his bas relief assemblages are reminiscent of medieval altarpieces while his small scale sculptures (particularly those from the 66 Signs of Neon exhibition) take on the properties of devotional icons or religious relics. Similarly, it’s impossible to look at Spaceman without imagining some benevolent and otherworldly god. As above, the success of these works stems not from the materials themselves, but from Purifoy’s expert manipulation of them. In the artist’s skilled hands, the leftover junk of our world isn’t just incorporated, it’s transformed. It’s born anew.
Add in Purifoy’s clear interest in art history, Christian iconography, jazz music, visionary environments and social justice and viewers will find themselves immersed in the world of an artist whose interests reached as far and wide as his talents.
At this point it’s a given that Noah Purifoy hasn’t received the recognition or acclaim he clearly deserved. Junk Dada offers a convincing step toward correcting that. From that perspective, those of us in central Ohio are especially lucky to be part of the corrective process. As it is, the Wexner Center is the only venue outside of Los Angeles where this important retrospective has been exhibited. Take advantage, and get to know Noah Purifoy. You won’t be disappointed.
Noah Purifoy: Junk Dada is on view at the Wexner Center for the Arts through April 10.
For more information, visit www.wexarts.org.
Noah Purifoy
Untitled (Watts Remains)
1966
Assemblage
5 1/2 x 9 1/2 x 14 in.
Noah Purifoy
Untitled
1966
Found-object assemblage
15 x 6 x 6 in.
Noah Purifoy
Spaceman
1993
Assemblage sculpture
96 x 26 x 6 in.
Noah Purifoy
Office Chair
1988
Combine
62 1/2 x 40 x 5 in.
Noah Purifoy
Untitled (Assemblage)
1967
Assemblage
66 x 39 x 8 in.
Noah Purifoy
Untitled (Bed Headboard)
1958
Construction
64 1/2 x 57 x 11 1/4 in.