Their strict geometricity can evoke implacable, uncompromising images: the graven metal doors of a bank vault, the cryptic symbology of masonic regalia, bitcoin iconography. At the same time, their almost supernatural symmetries can work like tantric images, like mandalas, as an inducement to and a focus of contemplation. Their patterning suggests the “mobility” of Art Deco whirligig motifs, and modernist works of vortices. For all the associations they might trigger, the works are supremely accomplished, masterfully complete and unique in themselves.

The vectors, radials, row-and-column matrices and tessellations, halos, suns, eyes and wheels-within-wheels are all generated not by algorithms but by a single human – or superhuman – draughtsman, the hallucinatory designs painstakingly executed on paper with pen and India ink.  “I use archetypes from our collective unconsciousness. I hope to convey purity, accuracy, perfection, balance, and forward that energy to the viewers, based on elements that are common to all. For instance, the circle is represented everywhere around the world and it can be the sun, the moon, the earth, magic eyes, cells, the womb, the mandala, the universe… “, explains the artist, Portuguese Daniel Gonçalves.

Entirely self-taught, he was first brought to public attention by the Cruzes Canhoto gallery in Porto, where his work was initially exhibited in 2016. Then, in 2017, he also participated in an exhibition at the Oliva Creative Factory in Portugal. Most recently, pieces of his have been exhibited in galleries in France, the US and the UK, and at the Outsider Art Fair in New York in 2019.

He explains that his creations were not always so systematic: “They used to be more organic and over time have become more geometric because of my idea – my obsession – that they have to be perfect or at least close
to perfection. My drawings have evolved from something more figurative and colourful towards something more based on black and white, more abstract, assuming perhaps more symbolism through geometric, minimalistic elements such as circles, triangles, arches.”

Gonçalves can be forgiven for wanting to find order and perfection. Born in Porto in 1977, one of five brothers, he endured a troubled – almost Dickensian – upbringing at the hands of a father who gambled, drank and had a violent temperament. However, his father was a highly skilled carpenter and gave Gonçalves an appreciation and respect for manual work, and for drawing something beautiful out of unpromising raw material. “I think that was the only decent thing I inherited from him. The capacity to improvise and create”, the artist says.

Raised without affection or stability, the Gonçalves brothers all ended up in prison for lesser or greater crimes – with the exception of Daniel, who at the age of twelve was sent to the seminary to save the family some money and to cultivate a vocation. Maltreated there too, he lost any religious faith that he may have had.

He returned home hoping to learn his father’s trade, but further physical violence and chaos caused him to move on. He tried working in quarries, then as a bricklayer, then a mechanic, but nothing stuck and he found his way to London where he spent two years as a waiter in a club. Once back in Porto, he worked in bars, restaurants and cafés, but loans, debts and accumulating bills led to bankruptcy and the loss of his house and car.

Tracking Gonçalves’ artistic experimentations from their beginnings is difficult, partly because of his troubled, ever-changing living circumstances but also because early examples of his work no longer exist: “Unfortunately, almost everything I produced between 1992 and 2015 was given to family and friends or lost while moving, and the rest was destroyed. After three or four years without producing anything and after undergoing one of the most depressing periods of my life, I destroyed everything. Even now, when I finish a drawing I put it aside and try not to return to it, mostly for fear of not agreeing with what's there and destroying it.”

caption: #294, 2018, ink on paper, 28 x 39 in./ 70 x 100 cm