"From the Little People's Point of View," Courtesy Noah Purifoy Foundation ©2024.

Noah Purifoy Outdoor Museum

Joshua Tree, California

Noah Purifoy had a reputation as a respected artist when he left Los Angeles in 1989 and moved to the desert outside of Joshua Tree. He lived in a trailer. "Noah told me he was looking at the desert because he had some big ideas," said Joe Lewis, a fellow artist who later became president of the Noah Purifoy Foundation. "He got to work immediately."

"Toilet Bowl Sculpture," Courtesy Noah Purifoy Foundation ©2024.

For the next 15 years Noah filled ten acres with over 100 structures and sculptures, built out of cast-offs ranging from unwanted lumber to old toilets. Joe said that Noah welcomed visitors but never explained his work. The art, Joe said, didn't have a theme beyond its method, which was assemblage (pronounce it like it's french).

"Gallows," Courtesy Noah Purifoy Foundation ©2024.

Not everyone appreciated what Noah was creating. "The county wanted to bulldoze it," said Joe of the site. "Some inspector came by and saw Noah and said, 'This is garbage. Get this guy out of here.'" Joe and other Foundation members paid an emergency visit to the county supervisor. "I was all dressed up in a suit and tie and we had, like, ten big coffee table books, and just dropped them on his desk," Joe recalled. "And we said, 'This is not some hobo guy living out in the desert. This is a very important person in the art world.'"

Noah Purifoy circa 1990 at the Outdoor Museum.

(To be fair, we can think of at least one or two hobo guys in the desert who were also pretty good artists).

The county laid out a series of demands (most of them protecting visitor safety) and the Foundation got to work cleaning up what is now officially called the Noah Purifoy Outdoor Desert Art Museum of Assemblage Sculpture (or "Outdoor Museum" for short). Noah's only request was, "No fence," said Joe, and the museum's perimeter remains fence-free.

"The Kirby Express," Courtesy Noah Purifoy Foundation ©2024.

Joe said that Noah was appreciative that the Foundation blocked the bulldozers, but puzzled that they wanted to preserve his artworks. "He said, "You people want to save this stuff? You're kidding me." According to Joe, Noah felt that the desert wind, sand, and blistering heat were part of the art. If a sculpture fell apart, fine; if Noah wanted to replace part of it, that was fine, too.

"Carousel," Courtesy Noah Purifoy Foundation ©2024.

Falling apart was unlikely because Noah, a former Navy SeaBee and shop teacher, built his artworks strong. But parts of them eventually wore out. One sculpture, "From the Little People's Point of View," which features a lineup of human legs, has gone through dozens of pairs of pants. "If something gets too funky we'll replace it using as close to material that he used," Joe said, explaining that this was "in the spirit of Noah" even if counter to academic art conservation. "Noah felt that the environment was his partner," said Joe, "so that does put us in kind of a strange position."

"Igloo," Courtesy Noah Purifoy Foundation ©2024.

Noah Purifoy died in his wheelchair in 2004 when a fire swept through his trailer. The authorities said that it must have been started by Noah's lit cigarette. Joe, to our surprise, was open to our speculation that Noah, hot with ideas, might have instead spontaneously combusted. "Could be that, too," said Joe. "He was a different kind of person."

Today the Outdoor Museum looks much as it did when Noah Purifoy went up in flames over 20 years ago. There's grit underfoot and sun in the cloudless sky and Noah's well-baked art, built with barrels and old tires and broken televisions and pretty much every kind of scrap that no one else wanted. There's now a visitor center, and a conservation lab, and caretakers who keep a regular schedule ("We're out here a lot," said Joe). Brochures are always on hand for self-guided tours, and little metal signs identify the sculptures that have names.

According to Joe, Noah Purifoy's Outdoor Museum is a popular spot for visitors. "There's always people here, always," said Joe. "I'm serious. There's people out here even when it's 122 degrees."