Edward Gafford

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Foreword

As an artist, if
Edward Gafford
wasn't Texan he'd be Mediterranean: his paintings resonate with the colors and pictorial energy of the South, the sky, the sun, the harvest, the timeless spirituality of the working class hero, the religion of elemental reality. 
 

Gafford's art education took place in Mexico, and his interest in that culture has grounded his creative outlook in many ways: his humor and foreigner's vision of Mexican life, his respect for the Mexican masters Heredia, Siquieros, and Orozco; and above all, his feeling for the innate mysticism of peons' lives, in their perpetual struggle for survival in an overwhelming world.

 

Partly as a result of his academic exposure, and largely due to his own stylistic virtuosity, Gafford's art plays off many European movements. The Beer Drinker (1975), for instance, suggests Fauvism with its flat, defined color surfaces; yet elsewhere, as in Prophet or Profit (1983), he adopts Surrealism's symbolic desert landscape and religious subtext, even echoing the Italian Renaissance in his realistic drawing of people and his allegorical scenography.  Certain paintings are clearly Cubist-inspired, while others (Birth of Death, 1964) recall Dubuffet's expressionistic style.  In general, Gafford evokes the Surrealist mystery of ordinary objects, but even more Surrealistic is his method — loosely applying backgrounds in an unplanned, random manner, he then searches their cloudy shapes for latent images, coaxing his compositions into clarity, "seeing" into his own mind through the mirror of his talent and understanding.


Transcending all art historical influences, Gafford's work touches on the soul of things, bringing a depth of identity to every figure, every event, exalting it with revelation.  Visual effects serve Gafford as a tool to plumb a deeper purpose, to convey the soul experience that all animal species share (Recompense, 1988), the spiritual dimension of the humblest life, unspoken but profoundly visible.  The everyday and the metaphysical co-exist naturally in Gafford's soul-scapes, where the divine aspect, the beyond of things, is always at the heart of the picture.

 

In his most recent paintings Gafford abandons images almost entirely, in favor of an abstract surrealism involving strong forms and colors in dynamic balance.  These are works of active contemplation, mystical without being specifically religious. This new attack marks a radical departure from the focused illustration that has characterized his previous work.  

 

Although several cultures and styles converges in Gafford's art, what makes his art uniquely interesting is his authenticity as a person.  To appreciate Gafford, one must see past the usual art-world archetypes — money, social status, intellectual and critical endorsement — to the work itself, which is rich, varied, and deeply felt.  His academic background in art history is solid and substantial, with a craftsman's grasp of physical principles; but beyond all such issues, what most truly emerges from his painting is his personal authenticity.  

 

This study of Edward Gafford's work is long overdue, and his depth as an artist is only now beginning to be recognized.  At present, Gafford is on the threshold of a golden age of art, and his best work is still  to come.  After preparing his material for thirty-five years, a major outpouring of art is imminent, and we look forward to appreciating the results of his energy and insight as they emerge into mastery.

 

Albert Cherqui

Director, Albert Gallery

 


I am happy to have this opportunity to write some thoughts about a painting by Edward Gafford that I love, The Blue Minstrel. I have known Gafford for many years, and know his work intimately. I chose The Blue Minstrel for my collection because I believe it expresses how the power and importance of music allows humanity to “see” itself.

 

When we call art “avant-garde”, we sometimes mean that it anticipates its era. The Mona Lisa’s mysterious smile, for instance, seems to express DaVinci’s understanding of what his world was coming to, how the Renaissance was about to revolutionize European cultural life in the 1600s.

 

Gafford’s Blue Minstrel was painted in 1962, before the Sixties became a stage for social transformation, yet for me this painting foretells how music would become a cultural force for re-shaping society, how it would sound a unifying cord to bring revolutionary beliefs together. During the Sixties, it sometimes seemed that music was the driving force behind the whole social upheaval that it accompanied. When I view The Blue Minstrel, I am reminded of the heroic legacy of my generation and the music that formed it.

 

The music of the Sixties is till with us, and we are living in the world created during those visionary years, still striving to overthrow racism, prejudice, injustice, still challenging political agendas based on profit, sexism, and repression. Woodstock still has the power to rally youth, benefit concerts are organized to rescue Midwestern farmers and rainforests on another continent. Music is still the anthem and the agent of social action, outlasting regimes and championing social progress.

 

For me, The Blue Minstrel evokes the empowerment of youth and its vision of the betterment of humanity. Gafford’s art has always had a strong sociological subtext, and his “eye” in The Blue Minstrel represents his own depth of social vision, his view of music as a cultural force, the voice of profound protest and refusal to conform. The stylized musical instruments that comprise the painting’s composition resonate to history: art history, social history, world history whose outcome is still being written.

 

 

Perry Carter

Alexandria, Louisiana

April 1997

Formative Years

 

 
Sometimes life can strike like lightning, and an artist's career can be shaped by certain flukes of circumstance that determine the course that his talent will take for a lifetime afterwards.

 

Edward Gafford always had a natural gift for drawing, so he applied to Mexico City College, and was accepted there in 1959. This choice was to prove decisive for his entire orientation as an artist.

 

Mexico City was, in many ways, the Paris of North America and Gafford was exposed to a wealth of cultural influences there. At the time, Mexico City had become one of the most cosmopolitan centers of art in North America, highly attuned to the latest European currents in art, literature, and political theory.

 

Along with his art studies, Gafford's friendships and extracurricular education led him to an informed appreciation of Mexican culture, and to see it in terms of centuries of struggle. Anthropology informed his sympathy for the struggle of Mexican native life, and led him to a level of general social awareness that has pervaded his art ever since.

 

After receiving his M.F.A. degree in Mexico, Gafford and his wife moved to Nantes, France.  Here again, Gafford came to appreciate the dignity and depth of rural life. While continuing his studies at the Universit‚ de l'Ouest d'Angers, Gafford was featured in an exhibition at Maison de la Presse. He was part of a group of artists who mounted exhibitions in public buildings such as schools and libraries, and he also exhibited at the Galerie Vrignaud.

 

From the beginning of Gafford's formative years as an artist, from the late 1950s to the early 1970s, certain basic themes and approaches were well in evidence, awaiting full treatment but basic to the identity of the artist's essential nature as a visual thinker.

 

In one of his earliest works, Derrick at Night, painted in 1958 in high school, a basic pictorial structure is evident, one which will endure throughout Gafford's body of work even as his technique grows more sophisticated and his concerns more complex. The stylistic difference between figure and ground is, in a sense, the picture's true subject: a realistic rendering of the human hero, and an abstract rendering of the oil rig that causes it to loom into a higher realm of adventure; an intellectual tower that the human figure is scaling, and whose focus he commands by virtue of placement and a more precise style.

 

This technique of giving focus by using a more precise style is characteristic of Gafford's work, in a variety of contexts. Another early piece, Persecution (1961), surrealistic in its Daliesque stage setting, narrative and highly explicit, displays overt religious content.

 

Religious matters are an ongoing concern in Gafford's work, in terms of expressing metaphysical truths about life, truths that transcend specific doctrines to achieve a world view of spirituality that is both broader and more intimate, about personal experience rather than social institutions. The shortcomings and prejudices of religions are, in a sense, what makes them human. Humanity is the true subject of Gafford's religious art.

 

Chicklets (1963), painted during Gafford's undergraduate days in Mexico City voices his growing social awareness and concern for indigenous races. Inspired by two women who sold chewing gum on a street corner, the picture explores the notion of selling versus begging, in a situation where poverty is itself exploited as a marketing device: the women use their downtrodden appearance in order to sell more easily.  "So how guilty are you?" the artist asks himself.

 

Still Life with Flowers (1964) involves a cubist compression and simplification of gestures and volume into two-dimensional plane surfaces. Formulated by Picasso and Braque, Analytic Cubism was intellectually revolutionary, but it has become an academic pursuit, a mental exercise, usually monochromatic. This painting demonstrates the artist's understanding of the movement.

 

Man Contemplating His Bread Box (1964) is Synthetic Cubism, which followed Analytic Cubism historically and offers more visual appeal. The natural course of things is from analysis toward decor, and Synthetic Cubism certainly proved to be more compositionally interesting.

 

In this connection, it is worth noting that Juan Gris, one of Synthetic Cubism's foremost practitioners, has a definite affinity with Gafford's own working-class principles. Gris was as the son of a tradesman who worked in the decorative arts, and from whom he learned ornamental techniques. This idea of mundane decorative devices used in a fine arts context no doubt appealed to Gafford's democratic urge to undermine the elitism upon which art's integrity is often thought to be founded.

 

Man Contemplating his Bread Box also emphasizes a tendency that will come to pervade all of Gafford's later work: the notion that art should be not only decorative, but also take a philosophical stance toward its subject. For Gafford, emotive content is crucial in a work of art. "A painting without content is worthless," he states. "Some mystery has to be there - I don't do portraits of flowers." Gafford wants his work to provoke thought, not necessarily to convince, nor to promote someone's agenda.

 

Without Succor (1964) offers an expressionistic mixed-media portrayal of the rough-hewn heritage of Mexican history, oppressed and idealistic, documentary and poetic. The use of heavy impasto effects and sculptural modeling recurs in much of Gafford's work. This technique may be used to convey realistic features such as hair or topography, or simply as an abstract textural element, often scraped away or scumbled to lend a quality of worn, scabbed, emotionally stoic, physically imposing presence to his reductive images.

 

The subject here is the tragedy of cultures colliding, and the attendant loss of humanity in the conflict. New World history is a chronicle of great cultures lost, of displaced gods powerless against the onslaught of European colonization. The acknowledgment that the "discovery" of America was a systematic genocide, that one's ancestors had wiped out civilizations, is something that every informed American must come to terms with. In a piece such as Without Succor, experiments in physical substance serve to ground its cultural statement, to substantiate it in an immediate way that weighs upon the drama of ideas, as an artifact of its own origins.

 

It was in 1972 with his painting, The Red Cape, that Gafford experienced a major stylistic breakthrough, adopting a surrealist technique that he has continued to employ to the present day. Loosely filling the canvas with vague shapes of background color, he then searches for whatever images may suggest themselves in this cloudy composition, and draws these figures into foreground prominence with a sharper focus, developing the composition along random lines, often leaving images half-concealed within their atmosphere. This approach gives rise to elemental scenes that emphasize Gafford's metaphysical subject matter, as he ponders issues of identity, states of soul, and the emergence of ideas from the subconscious.

 

This free-association approach has led Gafford to a produce a substantial body of work, bringing an exploratory quality to his art that incorporates the full range of his talent, from expressionist dynamics to detailed illustrational rendering. Several other works from this same period, e.g., Elusive (1972),

Carnivorous (1972), and Carnal (1972),

all represent the variety of allusion and invention that Gafford employs to depict the shifting nature of thought and meditation on subjects both vast and personal. 

 







 

The Reflective Years


 










The Surrealist landscape comes naturally to Gafford. It runs remarkably parallel to the reality of the Texas plains and mountain ranges, with their intense light, highly saturated color, and their vast emptiness. His is a natural Surrealism, grounded in a lifetime of visual distance, vanishing-points and a sense of life's elemental power. Abandoning traditional French Surrealism's urban cafe-collage still lifes, Gafford takes an epic perspective, bringing the hugeness of worlds into intimate fusion, balanced at a point of personal impact - impact on the mind rather than on the body. A peacefulness typically pervades his stormy scenes, turning them into allegories of understanding rather than of conflict.

 

A recurring motif in Gafford's work is a large boulder suspended in the sky, usually set in confrontation with the painting's protagonist. This enigmatic apparition represents the limit of man's role in nature, despite the control of science and society over the world. There is a mystery surpassing and containing human life, an unknowability to nature that inspires fear, awe, and, even in our agnostic age of analysis, a kind of involuntary worship.  This rock-image acts as a psychological symbol, Gafford explains, "not of God, but of what people think God is. The force that humans cannot control. The nameless."  It hovers implacably, a presence onto  which viewers can project their own ideas: God, luck, nature --- that vague understanding that humans have about life as something unpredictable, a perpetual Sword of Damocles under whose shadow we all live. It appears repeatedly in Gafford's allegorical landscapes, as "a design element and symbol to suggest this other portion of the equation: there's human understanding, historical social institutions, and then this force that could crush all of them if it wished. It may not fall, but it's always there."

 

Another recurring image is a face that appears often: the artist's own, an ongoing self-portrait. Better to use oneself as an example than someone else. The artist becomes the sacrificial protagonist, everyman. "The painter is the first audience," Gafford has said.  "I paint for myself.  And I'm a critical audience. I want to know, 'What do I  mean? What am I  talking about?'"

 

From the mid-1970s to the mid-1990s, Gafford produced many of his most ambitious and successful works, extending his surrealist technique into ever more detailed allegories and complex social statements. His characteristic approach to painting, where he allows the painting itself to lead his thought into images and ideas, is the "conversation" between artist and art that gives rise to accomplishment at the level of resolution.

 

Images of Contemplation (1973) portrays the psychological swirl of interpersonal relationships, thoughts within thoughts in a figure-ground ambivalence where profiles connect and inflect each other, with a composition focused by details yet loosely asymmetrical, as if about to change at every moment. This work is from a series about marriage and the relationship of men and women, how they live together, evoking the sequence of emotional introspection that accompanies marriage, relations between the sexes, and about people in general. 

 

In The Beer Drinker (1973) ("I was a beer drinker in a wine-drinking country," Gafford explains), his reductive technique expresses a degree of alienation, by focusing on an off-center detail. The combination of styles here accomplishes a narrative impact of introspection: we see what the character sees. Turning his back to the viewer, the drinker likewise turns away from the conventions of French identity. The mythology of beverages is taken very seriously in France, where collective emotions come into play on every level, from everyday rituals to the anthropology of national politics.

 

Prophet or Profit (1983), undertakes a more elaborate religious allegory than may immediately be apparent. Set in a symbolic surrealist desert landscape, the image of inspired prophetic revelation dominates the composition, literally squeezing an ecclesiastic authority figure into a corner, where he is nevertheless the focus of attention for a world congregation, represented by three characters whose profiles suggest the major races of mankind in thrall to doctrine, ignoring true religious experience.  The god-rock looms, ignored yet ominously serene, more mental than material, hovering behind the human drama, holy and above all conflict, almost on another plane of discourse.

 

The Endless Dream (1975), an abstract allegory of death, reflects upon a very difficult subject without traumatizing the viewer. Modern artists frequently want to tell people about death, sometimes in a very brutal way, usually conveying sorrow. Death is not necessarily sad, it is the consequence of life. One can speak about life and death together. Animal imagery lends movement to the picture, and reminding us that life is more than human life.


People are part of an animal kingdom. We lose track of our own nature when we arrogantly think we are the kings of that kingdom. In Recompense (1988), both man and dog are rewarded in the same instance of love and trust. Two beings that have given each other great emotional involvement are being compensated for their gifts.

 

Delusion (1988), reprises a classic theme from art history and spiritual allegory, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, to portray human arrogance about being at the center of the world. The painting's title refers to the delusion that the world is, or could be, coming to an end. Man lives in perpetual fear, and sometimes even wears fear as a mask. He deludes himself about the consequences of life and sometimes wears a mask of fearlessness. Yet the end of the human world is not a universal catastrophe. Mankind deludes itself about the importance of its life as a world value. In a larger perspective, the very thought that the end of humanity is meaningful is a delusion. Each person lives the world differently, and it comes to an end thousands of times each day, for everyone who dies.

 

Mystical Power (1990), returns Gafford to his ongoing concern with Latin American cultures, in its conflicted quest for freedom from foreign oppression. As with The Beer Drinker, an acute stylistic focus organizes the painting around the dramatic dollar flag representing U. S. involvement in Latin America, an ostensibly heroic undertaking that nevertheless has a strong financial motive, whereby the populace emerges from its underprivileged state to become subservient and dependent on foreign commerce, a pawn in the power scenarios of corrupt governments. Images of popular Hispanic culture frame the composition - bananas in the foreground, a blurred bullfight in the background - but the painting's unnoticed ironic center is the look in the one eye not focused on the dollar flag, belonging to a llama dressed in a unicorn costume, representing the false mythology of poetic European history, that views Latin America as a promised land for its conquest and exploitation.

 

A more metaphysical work, also focused on the look in its protagonist's eye, The Soul Contemplating Other (1991), can be read on a number of levels: the inherent divinity of self, the reflection in art of an individual's eternal nature, the mutual identity of the mundane and the transcendent, the spiritual dimension materialized in a two-way mirror in which each side exalts the other. This is one of Gafford's richest images, in its ambivalent equilibrium, its evocative realism, accessibly evoking a sense of subject-object interplay that portrays the act of viewing art as a spiritual encounter, a "conversation" of the highest order. Yet the protagonist-angel is clearly looking inside his mind, not directly at his reflection.  This single painterly stroke conveys volumes about Gafford's art, in terms of psychological realism and metaphorical self-portraiture.

 

Self-Denial (1992) is a meditation on mortality, on the masking of acceptance despite understanding. This is a very personal piece for Gafford, arising out of his effort to accept his father's death, and offers an example of the artist working through his personal feelings by dealing with them physically in a painting, whose "conversation" here takes on a quality of self- confrontation, looking at the impulse toward denial in a way that acknowledges it even as it offers a way to transcend through "facing" the reality of personal pain.


 

The Maturing Years

 








At present, in the mid-1990s, Gafford has entered into a renewed phase of work that revisits many of his ongoing concerns, presenting them in a vibrant new way. A reinterpretation of color and form, combined with new energy and insight, is currently giving rise to some of the most forceful work of his career.

 

A freer attitude about color is evident: a bold use of primary color, combined with a return to strong textural effects and impasto to create a mineral quality of scorched earth, scraped and exposed to reveal layers of color beneath the surface. Despite being brighter and more intensely chromatic than Gafford's past paintings, these newer works continue to be infused with many of his visual themes and ideas, along with a consistent concern for cultural anthropology and primal life-form encounters.

 

In The Farmer (1996), for example, the intense, unrealistic color serves to underscore the emotional content of the image, a metaphysical treatment of a humble subject embodying everything about the human condition, re-enacting ancient ritual in daily routine. The Cubist drawing style heightens the portrait's symbolic aspect: the farmer's Mayan features invoke the face of the god who cried the tears that made the plants grow but the hard-working human hand brings the figure back to the ordinary.

 

Feeding Time (1996) too is a stronger image than it first appears. By the simple device of adding a few anatomical details, eyes and fins, to his color-intensive composition, an animal dynamic is thrust onto the composition, a sense of competitive aggression that belies the painting's soothing balance overall: the picture becomes an event, a confrontation focused on the point where three fish lunge toward an unseen prey. This underwater setting is a pictorial counterpart to the cloudy background format that Gafford has explored for over twenty years: images of the mind in process, with ideas in suspension, shaped by currents of thought or feeling into fluid shapes, like clouds of ink in an aquarium that slowly disperse into the element that infuses them.

 

But the sudden constriction of Feeding Time expresses something more than mere contemplation; it is active and assertive, signaling a breakthrough in the career of this artist whose power has been building through decades of development, finally at the point of seizing and surpassing, to reach a level of mastery that will draw together all the elements of Gafford's understanding and resourceful technique.

 

His newest work relies on the physical effects of color and texture to achieve its vivid resolution. These intensified works offer a viewer the opportunity to share the artist's vision of seeing images emerge mentally, without being made explicit. They convey a brighter mood. They are less about observing people than affecting them. Underlying the dynamics of color and shape, Gafford's natural impulse to organize images that evoke relationships of people in the universe will continue to be the most important element in his works.