A childhood steeped in Hollywood royalty resurfaces through haunting, vivid imagery. Acidic yellow hues envelop her now-absent father, standing before an abandoned warehouse. One canvas depicts him brandishing a knife in a scene from a movie, while another presents a cross-eyed child awkwardly clutching his chest. A man crawls with a plunger in his bottom as a giant wasp looms nearby. These are far from Norman Rockwell’s idyllic scenes. Instead, these vibrant, film noir-inspired paintings evoke a blend of Edvard Munch and Diane Arbus—images that, once seen, linger in your mind.
Julie Garfield, an award-winning actress turned full-time artist based in New York, discovered her passion for painting later in life. With a distinguished career spanning theater—both on and off Broadway—as well as film and television, she has built a remarkable legacy. As the daughter of the legendary actor John Garfield (The Postman Always Rings Twice), who faced blacklisting in the 1950s, Julie carries a unique artistic heritage.
Now fully devoted to her art, Julie’s extensive portfolio showcases a wide array of paintings and drawings. Her work intricately blends elements of pre-surrealism, reminiscent of Bosch, with her own enigmatic style and vibrant color palette. Using oil, charcoal, and pencil, she creates pieces that are not merely self-referential, but reflect universal truths. Her art speaks to the way the past often resurfaces for all of us. These images emerged after decades of learning her craft—nothing decorative or commercial here. Her work perfectly aligns with the ethos of Lift Trucks Gallery, where we seek out artists who create simply because they must—no matter what.
That’s why Julie titled her show with a nod to the idea that some memories “ring” twice.
Curator’s Statement
Coming from Hollywood, I grew up with a healthy sense of dread watching film noir movies. The best ones stay with you forever, much like the work of our featured artist, Julie Garfield. Her father, John Garfield, starred in The Postman Always Rings Twice.
He passed away when Julie was quite young, as did my own father. We “half-orphans” often find ourselves subconsciously trying to recreate the fathers we knew through stories, photographs, and memories. It’s not particularly sad or unusual—it’s just always there, quietly setting us apart from others.
Tom Christopher, artist