Artist to Discover: Clifford Ward - Breaking the Collar
- Thom Reaves
- Jun 24
- 5 min read
Story and Photography, Thom Reaves
It was one of those unexpected moments that life sometimes gifts you — the kind you don’t plan, but end up treasuring. I visited Grounds for Sculpture, a place where art breathes in the open air, to see the work of sculptor Clifford Ward. I crossed paths with him and what began as a casual introduction turned into a lively, soul-stirring conversation about ancestry, artistry, and transcendence.
Clifford Ward isn’t just a sculptor. He’s a storyteller, a bridge-builder, and a believer in the resilience of the human spirit. His current exhibition, I’ll Make Me a World, curated by Noah Smalls and on view at Grounds for Sculpture through January 11, 2026, is a decade-spanning journey into a visionary narrative—where mythology, memory, geometry, and global traditions collide. And while the work itself is striking in form and symbolism, it’s the story behind it that truly moved me.
Allegro Moderato, 2024
Humble Beginnings, Unbreakable Spirit
Clifford Ward was raised in the housing projects of Jersey City. Like so many young Black boys born into marginalized communities, the odds were never in his favor. But if you talk to Ward for even five minutes, you’ll realize those odds never stood a chance.
“I want all kids to know my story,” Ward told me, his voice steady, eyes bright. “But especially young Black males. I want them to know no matter what your circumstances, you can make it. It takes hard work. This art was hard work. I was the epitome of the starving artist. But I never gave in to it. I always knew I would make it — and my mom always told me, ‘You’re gonna make it.’”
Those words, simple but powerful, became a kind of anthem. His mother’s faith in him fueled his own, and the hard years were spent in tiny studios, crafting figures from plaster bandages, steel, styrofoam, cardboard — anything he could get his hands on. What might’ve looked like scraps to others, Ward turned into vessels of history, beauty, and resistance.
The Art of Transcendence
At the heart of Ward’s work lies an idea of transformation. In his Guardians of Past History, he began by sculpting a figure restrained by a slave collar. A brutal, barbaric device meant to dehumanize, it became, in Ward’s hands, the starting point of a visual and spiritual journey.
As he created, the figure evolved. The significance of the collar shifted, and the form transformed from oppressed to empowered — from a victim of history to a regal, commanding presence. “The more you try to blot out the history,” Ward told me, “the more it comes out. The more the artist brings it out.”
In that sense, his work isn’t just about remembering the past — it’s about reclaiming it, reframing it, and carrying its lessons forward. It’s about transcending chains, both literal and metaphorical, and realizing the divine dignity within us all.
This is the spirit I felt embodied in that one unforgettable line he shared with me:
“I started working with a slave figure, restrained with a slave collar, and my work took me on a journey to watch this individual grow, progress, and transcend the barbaric device placed on us — to transform into a powerful, regal figure.”
Isn’t that what so many of us are called to do? To take the things that were meant to break us and turn them into crowns.
A Global Language of Culture
Ward’s work pulses with influences from around the world. African cultures, particularly those of Mali and Egypt, lay the foundation for his aesthetic, with surfaces finished in patterns inspired by African mudcloth. But his visual language is wide-reaching, embracing Aboriginal art, Māori symbolism, Native American textiles, and beyond.
“I consider that art is art, no matter where it comes from,” he said. And perhaps that’s why his work feels both rooted and universal — it’s steeped in history, but it speaks to something larger than a single narrative. It’s about shared humanity.
Fittingly, when Ward took a DNA test, he discovered his ancestry traced back to the Bantu people of Nigeria. “It wasn’t a surprise,” he smiled. “I was always drawn to Nigerian art, long before I knew my DNA.” He sees his ancestors in the work, feels their guidance in the shapes, the faces, the marks made by his hands.
A Seat at the Table
Like every artist with big dreams, Clifford Ward has aspirations — and they’re as bold as the figures he sculpts. He wants his work to travel the world. He’s set his sights on the Venice Biennale, on MOMA, on the great museums of this country and beyond.
“I’m thinking of the upper echelon of the art world,” he told me plainly. Not with arrogance, but with the clear-eyed confidence of someone who has walked through fire and come out shining.
His belief in the importance of his work is rooted in its place within the genre of Afrofuturism — a movement that reclaims African narratives, symbolism, and cosmology to imagine futures of power, beauty, and freedom. “The seeds of the Afrofuturist way of thinking were planted even by Benjamin Banneker in the 1700s,” Ward noted.
For Ward, Afrofuturism isn’t about fantasy. It’s about possibility. It’s about daring to imagine a world where people of African descent aren’t defined by suffering, but by sovereignty.
What’s Next
The figures in I’ll Make Me a World began with 12, then grew to 24. Now, he says with a chuckle, “I want to do a few more.” His next project involves wall pieces featuring sculpted headdresses adorned with cultural motifs, continuing the conversation about identity, history, and power.
Even when not directly addressing slavery, Ward’s work remains connected by its improvisational painting, bold colors, and mythic forms. Whether categorized as Afrofuturism or not, the work feels urgent, necessary — and most importantly, ours.
A Message to the Children
Perhaps the most powerful thing Ward shared with me that day wasn’t about museums or accolades. It was about kids.
“I want them to see what’s possible,” he said, leaning in. “Especially the ones growing up like I did, in tough places, in little apartments, hearing too many ‘no’s.’ I want them to see that art can be your way out, your way up. But you gotta work. You gotta believe you’re gonna make it.”
That’s the heart of it. That’s the legacy Ward is carving out of plaster and paint and ancestral memory. Not just for himself, but for every child who dares to dream beyond their circumstance.
Final Thoughts
Clifford Ward’s art isn’t about prettiness. It’s about power. It’s about unflinching honesty and transcendent beauty. It’s about telling the stories others tried to erase — and offering a hand to those still trying to climb out from under the weight of history.
If you can, make your way to the Grounds for Sculpture before January 11, 2026. Stand before his figures. Trace the curve of a shoulder, the arch of a brow, the defiance in a gaze. Listen to what they’re saying.
You might hear what I did: a promise that no collar, no hardship, no barrier is stronger than the will to rise.
Because like Clifford Ward — you’re gonna make it.
Thom Reaves
Writer, art-lover, and believer in the unstoppable power of creative transcendence.
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