JEAN-ROBERT BÉFFORT meets me and my seven-year-old at the entrance to a)sp.”A”©e (pronounced “A Space”) Studio Art Gallery in downtown Silver City for an experience dubbed Art-on-“A”-Stick. Walking into the 4,000-square-foot former garage, the artist-owner calls our attention to a sculpture of a boat, which repurposes a flip-flop as the deck. The upside-down sandal looks like the kind of watercraft a kid might launch in the Gila River with a Barbie aboard. Maybe that’s because fashion dolls—at least parts of them—are commonly integrated into the playful work created here.
“I’m a collage artist, but I’ve been doing the assemblage about as long,” he says.
Bright with murals of dots and concentric circles punctuated with the occasional letter “A,” spread wings, and a rendition of Billy the Kid on the outside, the gallery carries the vibe inside with walls, ceilings, and furniture display pieces in a rainbow of colors. Each demonstrates the possibilities for art using found objects and discarded materials, while also displaying Béffort’s ability to make something completely and intentionally different from each item’s original purpose.
“You’re taking something that meant something else, but you want it to mean something for you personally,” he says. “You’re adding your value to it.”
Béffort offers Art-on-“A”-Stick workshops so people can experience the same joy. The class includes materials, unlimited hot glue, and expert support. “Assemblage is accessible to all ages, any ability,” he says. The process is both freeing and therapeutic—recalling a time before more rigid education models took hold. “With this, you can get back to that point and heal that.”
A Montana native with an architecture degree, he briefly worked as an architect in Portland, Oregon, before constructing Earthships in Taos, the place that pioneered off-grid homes built from upcycled materials like bottles, cans, and tires. “Architecture is not as exciting as art,” he says. The gallery, which he opened 17 years ago in October, exhibits artwork by him and half a dozen others.
Jean-Robert Béffort fills A Space in Silver City with assemblage art made from found objects and discarded materials. Photograph courtesy of A Space Studio Art Gallery.
Béffort shows us around for inspiration before heading into the studio and handing us trays to gather materials that were donated, collected, and rescued from garbage bins. A central table holds items like cast-off costume jewelry, game pieces and toys, pom-poms, fabric scraps, bottle caps, artificial flowers, and even shredded dollar bills.
“Just grab things that catch your eye,” he advises. “It’ll eventually build itself. You’re along for the ride.”
Thinking about love, intuition, and freedom to pursue dreams, I select buttons, charms, blocks, and broken Christmas decorations. Warm metallics, red, yellow, and purple call to me. Two gold rings, attached on one side, clink into my tray. A turquoise bead sinks to the bottom with a pink binocular charm and a miniature lantern the color of a plastic army action figure. Magnetic poetry spelling out the words “make,” “know,” and “chase” layer in.
“If you don’t use them, you can put them back,” our host assures so we don’t feel attached to any of the materials.
We pick up our glue guns and fashion our pieces while Béffort makes his own “3D doodle” and shares fragments of his story. In addition to embellishing the gallery facade over the years, he’s brushed a Mimbres pottery design onto the pavement at the intersection of Silver City’s Bullard and Kelly streets, painted a selfie wall depicting Billy the Kid as an angel, crafted a hubcap and hot rod mosaic in a parklet downtown, and—perhaps his favorite—installed mosaics on the Guadalupe Montessori School campus. “You made something, and all those kids are experiencing it, taking it, and passing it on,” he says.
After going outside to spray-paint a pair of wings before adhering them to a music box, Béffort returns with possible inspiration: “Does anybody need a mirror? I just found a mirror.”
Building Earthships from alternative materials, the artist adopted the recycled construction ethic he carries today. “When you’re building, you’re empowering yourself with consumer goods,” he says. “You’re defining what they mean to you, not what you purchase.”
As we meander out of a)sp.”A”©e, I pause to study Béffort’s designs. I see collections of trash carefully curated and thoughtfully compiled, shining with new life—and my perspective flip-flops.