A Skewed Vision of Toys 

BY DAVID STATON

ALBUQUERQUE JOURNAL

 TESUQUE -- From above, the sprawling sculpture garden at Shidoni looks like an extraterrestrial abandoned game of jacks.     

Here and there spiraling steel concrete and wood forms are scattered as if frozen in motion. The imagined players are gone but their playthings remain on this grassy field.          

On a cool late summer morning, the sun moved between patches of blue, casting shadows and shimmers on these toys and in the air. Appropriately bouncing between the dark and the light was sculptor Ed Haddaway.

            For the Albuquerque artist few things are black or white, fewer things are certain, Life’s a game so Haddaway plays hard and by the rules.

            “I like things that make sense but don’t make sense. That’s what I’m always after,” he said pointing to his towering Improbable Plan for Enlightenment at a corner of the garden.

            Like most of Haddaway’s work currently on display at Shidoni Contemporary Gallery, this painted steel sculpture is a composite of odd angles. Poetic forms and bright colors. But most of all, this work is a collection of life experiences. Pieces in the Shidoni show include such autobiographical titles such as Portrait of the Artist with Angst, James and I and the Driftwood Ride, and Daddy At The Top of the Stairs.

            “That’s what it’s really about, it’s my attempt to stay in touch with my own childhood, and a lot of pieces are a direct reference to what happened to me in my childhood.”

           However, perhaps because of its apparent simplicity, one word is commonly used -- often over used -- to capture the spirit of Haddaway’s work: whimsical.

            “I’m not sure what whimsical means anymore because I’ve heard it so often. The work is funny, but it also has an undercurrent of my dark side. The comparison I like best is to Woody Allen,” he said.  In New York Stories Allen’s portion of the film included a character, the nagging mother who takes to the clouds to chide her son.

            “That’s a whimsical idea, but it has a deeper, darker side to it. I sit around thinking about death…  I’ve spent years thinking about all the darker things in life. I have a very dark side but I’ve made a concerted effort to focus on the lighter side,” the artist said, seated at a picnic table in the garden.

            Barbara Forshay, an artist who works in mixed media and photography is married to the 40-year-old artist. Living with Haddaway’s work may be like spending time in a cartoon world.

            However, she said “He can be very pessimistic and I can’t be because I have to keep a positive mental outlook for my own mental health. I think it’s interesting because his work comes out so positive, so affirming.”

            Haddaway’s current view of his creations, may, as he said, focus on the lighter side. But these works are not lightweight.

            “I think it’s wonderful to sell stuff, and all that, but I don’t think that’s the real purpose of art -- it’s to create an inner dialogue and, hopefully, I think the people who buy the work are somehow finding connections in their childhood and their life. Somehow the work sparks some beauty in their lives, some sense of wonder.”

            Sound childlike? That’s exactly what Haddaway is after -- appealing to the child in everyone, himself included. The work appeals to a wide range of people. Actor Ed Asner bought a piece, and a buyer in Florida designed a swimming pool around a Haddaway sculpture.

            The artist is not out to re-capture youth or lost innocence He’s pursuing something much more elusive -- free flowing imagination.

            As a child, growing up in Fort Worth, Haddaway and his family would travel to the Gulf Coast each year. Playing with piles of driftwood he and a cousin would challenge each other to construct carnival rides out of the material.

            “Of course, it was physically impossible,” Haddaway said, “But I remember the intensity of believing we could build these things… Ever since I was a little kid I’ve had this real excitement about the ability to make things, and it’s just carried me through.”

            Haddaway compared that sort of excitement to the feeling children have around Christmas, for toys, and the importance of play. As children become adults, the importance lessens -- people become entrenched in the day-to-day grind. “It’s unfortunate,” Haddaway said, “because imagination and playing are linked.”

            “Somehow making toys is a way of rekindling the imagination and keeping it going. It’s become very strange because my work is my play….  I mean, I’m a professional play person.” he said.

            Haddaway is quick to point to his parents for stimulating his imagination at an earlier age. Through their benign neglect, he spent hours in his back yard at play, building things physically and mentally. By the time he was in the fourth grade his artistic skills landed him in special classes for talented Ft Worth children at a museum school.

            Some things from these formative years would surface years later in Haddaway’s work. During his time at the museum school he could draw well, but invariably the kid seated next to him was better. Also, without fail he would smudge or spill something on his finished work.

            “I finally just said …That’s part of me -- the messiness, and that’s the way that paint is messy.” Haddaway’s one-time black watch, now spattered with primary hues, attests to the fact.

            “I like certain lines, a certain sloppiness is the line, so you can see my hand in there. I try not to clean stuff up too much…. I want to celebrate my humanity.”

            Not surprisingly Haddaway said he feels a certain kinship with the bold use of color and form used by the Fauve artists. He also favors the work of Joan Miro and Alexander Calder. But, somewhat surprisingly, Haddaway sympathizes with those artists who work with words. He has entertained the notion of being a writer (his brother is) and he is just a few hours short of an English degree. During this picnic table chat, Haddaway made reference to Shakespeare, Yeats, and Faulkner. The passion for all forms of literature has affected his work.  

           “I’ve thought a lot about language over the years, and I think my work vacillates between poetry and short stories…. language starts out being very specific, but, then it becomes lyrical over time…. I think good work has a deeper resonance than say, a simple political message. You can go back to it again and again, and it has a deeper message…. Hopefully that’s what I’m doing... something that works at a deeper level.”

            Some particular elements of Haddaway’s pieces lend themselves to myriad interpretations.  There are the recurring forms of spirals and limb-like structures that surface in both mono-prints and sculptures. And there is the implied sense of motion in his work.

            “I sort of see things that way,” Haddaway said pointing to a tree in the sculpture garden. For the artist the tree is in motion. In the grand scheme of things, it’s here today and gone tomorrow.

           “There is this kind of floating sense that everything is in motion. In the life we have, everything is just move, move, move and move again -- and I pick up a lot of that and put it in my work. I love the sense of elegant sense of motion and balance -- things that look improbable.”

            Things that look improbable are possible as Haddaway’s Improbable Plan for Enlightenment makes clear. After all, it makes sense and doesn’t make sense.

1991