Paul Laffoley: The Visionary Point
Paul Laffoley: The Visionary Point
Paul Laffoley: The Visionary Point
“Visionary art is the art of making symbols,” wrote Laffoley in 1970, “which evoke the transcendental
existence and character of the cosmic forces of the universe.” He believed that the works themselves
possessed an ability to manifest these forces, which he felt were eternal and shared by artists in different
periods of history. “The forms of visionary art are not time or ego-oriented in terms of style,” he wrote,
but instead, to paraphrase the writings of Carl Jung, are a product of “mankind’s collective unconscious.”
Today, the term visionary is used to describe artists who are often untrained, yet naïvely attempt to express
grand ideas that they understand only superficially. In this sense, Laffoley is anything but a visionary, for
there is no question that he fully comprehends the complex nature of the conceptual constructs he employs,
which are drawn from his deep reading and understanding of science, mathematics, higher dimensions,
time travel, alchemy, astrology, psychology, mysticism, literature, philosophy, religion, the occult, etc. “The
visionary genre attempts to link the memory of the past,” he wrote, “with the anticipation of the future by
means of a transdisciplinary process in the present.” His is a vision that attempts to encapsulate complex
ideas extrapolated from these disciplines into a single painted image.
Many of Laffoley’s mature paintings consist of a large circle inscribed within the square format of a stretched
canvas, often accompanied by smaller circular forms surrounding it, evoking comparisons to Hindu and
Buddhist mandalas and cosmic diagrams. Sources such as these were a logical extension of his way of
thinking, for his father (a banker by profession) was interested in Eastern religions and philosophy, as well
as the practice of a spiritual life, to the extent that he performed as a trance medium at a theatre in Boston.
Compelling though these comparisons might be, there is yet another source for Laffoley’s imagery, far
more mundane in nature but strikingly similar in format: the so-called Indian Head Test Pattern projected
on black-and-white television screens when not transmitting programs in the early years of television.
Laffoley recalls having stared at that pattern for hours in a fire station that Andy Warhol’s had purchased
While living in New York, Laffoley never abandoned his studio in the basement of his family home in
Belmont, Massachusetts (a suburb of Boston), where he would travel to paint on weekends. It was here that
he painted a remarkably prescient picture called The City Can Change Your Life (1962), where, in a triptych-
like format to be read from right to left, a single-engine plane strikes an island metropolis at precisely 9:03
AM, forecasting the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center in New York City 39-years later (the second
plane impacted the south tower at exactly 9:03 AM). Laffoley himself was baffled by the accuracy of his
prediction; if pressed to come up with an explanation, he might very well have told us that it came to him
in a dream. In 1995, for example, he was shown images taken by the Hubble Space Telescope of gas clusters
thousands of light years away from earth, an image that astonished him, not because they had never been
It is in dreams such as these, and in his conscious attempt to visualize what will occur in the future that
Laffoley earns his reputation of being a true visionary. Working for the next 47 years—first in a cramped
utility room of an office building at 36 Bloomfield Street in Boston that he occupied from 1968 to 2004,
and then for the next 11 years (until his death in 2015) in a 2000-square-foot studio at 15 Channel Center
Street in South Boston—he would explore in his paintings the structures of various complex operating
systems, psychotronic devices, lucid dreams, meta-energy, time travel, and utopian theories. Each painting
was preceded by years of investigation in his subject, sometimes preparing detailed handwritten notes,
all in an attempt to ascertain relationships that could be structured into a single image, creating a work
of art that contained what he called a “structured singularity.” The format of these paintings were always
diagrammatic, an approach that can be traced to his training as an architect, but which he felt best suited
the singularity of his vision. “I feel that the visual diagram by its nature is capable of expressing ideas
with an impact equal to the thought diagram formed in the mind,” he wrote in a statement prepared
for an exhibition in the mid-1960s. “The advantage of the diagram especially in our time of accelerated
circumstantial change, is the potential to deal with and communicate the totality of human experience
within the limits of the visual medium.”
In 1971, Laffoley founded The Boston Visionary Cell, an organization that consisted of eight artists and
writers of which he was unquestionably the guiding force. “We believe that the evocation of the mystical
experience by means of symbols, which has functioned as part of the intentioning [sic] process throughout
the course of human history,” they wrote in their founding charter, “is the intended direction of evolution
that becomes most expressive through visual art during those periods in history that are characterized by
rapid change.” Whereas the artists who formed part of the original group eventually went their own separate
ways, for Laffoley the organization never ended (he would keep it incorporated as a legal entity until his
death). For the remaining years of his life, he remained committed to its principles, compiled notes from
his readings and continued to paint pictures in the confines of his studio, generating the concrete results of
his thinking in a space that could be regarded as his own private visionary cell.
Francis M. Naumann
Cover image: The Visionary Point, 1970, oil and acrylic, ink and letraset on canvas, 73 ½ x 73 ½ inches