Bending down, Lonnie Smith peered inside the vent and saw crumpled pieces of paper, scores of them. On each page was a cartoon, images drawn by his 7-year-old son, who rarely spoke, but often screamed and yelled.

In the drawings, Kambel was clear. He told stories about a character who had ribbons for arms and legs, or a villainous man in a white van. As his father unfolded piece after piece, he understood more about the son who often left him frustrated and bewildered.

“To me, he was just being disobedient and hard to deal with,” Lonnie Smith said of Kambel’s early behavior, but the drawings “gave me insight.” Smith realized he was the archenemy in his son’s rendering of the white van. “It was a turning point,” Smith said.

Years later, the Smith family would learn Kambel had autism, but in the interim they knew for sure that he was a talented artist. Now 38, Kambel and his art are in the spotlight. His sculptures are in the collections of museums, have been displayed at prominent galleries, and sold for nearly $30,000. His work is currently on exhibit in “Cardboard Genius: The Architectural Marvels of Kambel Smith” at the Germantown Historical Society through June 29.

Beyond the blueprint

In his art, Kambel, who is completely self-taught, reimagines historic buildings, creating large sculptural pieces made of cardboard. At the Historical Society, the sweeping expanse of a work based on the Benjamin Franklin Bridge is on display near the colorfully ornate piece inspired by the signature archway of Philadelphia’s Chinatown.

“Kambel’s career so far eclipses what most artists achieve in a lifetime,” said Alex Baker, director of Fleisher/Ollman Gallery in Philadelphia, which has exhibited his work. “He’s already in public institutions. He’s been in prestigious galleries, got a Pew [Foundation] grant. These are dream achievements.”

For Kambel, the fame and prestige of his soaring career may not be paramount. While walking amid his creations last month in Germantown, the artist said, “It makes me busy and I’m doing it for a living, and it gives other people pleasure.”

That was certainly the case several years ago, when Kambel completed his first sculpture of a famous building — a 19 feet wide, 12 feet long, and 2 1/2 feet tall piece portraying the Philadelphia Museum of Art. He built the artwork outside, using the lawn of his then-home in Germantown as a studio. A neighbor admired the project and posted a picture of it on Facebook where it caught the eye of Chris Byrne, owner of the historic Elaine de Kooning House in East Hampton, N.Y.  Byrne, a founder of the Dallas Art Fair, who turned the abstract expressionist painter’s house and studio into a hub for young artists, contacted the Smith family, and invited himself down for a visit.

"What was interesting to me is that these weren’t just architecture models,” Byrne said. “They were expressive. He was working with found materials, so he is kind of working with the intrinsic properties of those things,” in a “painterly” way. “He’s making sculpture that happens to be a building that might be familiar.”

He was so impressed that Byrne now serves as Smith’s curator, steering Kambel to appearances at the Outsider Art Fair in New York and guiding him on a career ascent that now finds Kambel’s work at institutions such as the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts and the American Folk Art Museum.

A circuitous journey

The period between the discovery of Kambel Smith’s drawings and the acquisition of his sculpture by museums was marked by challenges. After his discharge from the Air Force, Lonnie Smith worked in real estate and home security. The family — Smith’s wife Stephanie, daughter Kanika, and sons Kambel and Kantia, lived in Germantown and other Philadelphia-area neighborhoods.

Back then, Kambel rarely spoke. He grunted and yelled, and the family was at a loss for answers. First, they believed Kambel needed discipline. Next, a doctor diagnosed him as developmentally disabled. Still another physician recommended electric shock therapy, which the family refused. Then, at 13, he was diagnosed with autism. Later, his brother was also diagnosed. Eventually, the Smiths' marriage ended.

An artist's evolution

Along the way, Kambel evolved as an artist and began to paint. But when Lonnie developed an autoimmune disorder, he could no longer afford to buy the canvases his son used to create. That’s when Kambel began using a material that was cheap — often free — and easy to find.

“He started painting on cardboard, but the paint would fade, and he didn’t like that, so he started using cardboard in other ways,” said Lonnie. He described art as a kind of salve for his son. “Art helps him battle the things that bother him,” Lonnie said. “Art gets him through.”

Lonnie Smith has worked to nurture his children’s talents and even collaborates with them. They’ve written books, including a series about a superhero character Kambel invented, called “Survivor (of the ribbons),” and produced two award-winning animated features, “Impossible Decision” and “Downgraded Citizen,” which are available on online platforms Fawesome and Stash TV. 

All of this output is part of Lonnie’s effort to cultivate sustainable careers for brothers Kambel and Kantia, who both attended college (though neither graduated), and ensure they can always care for and support themselves. Lonnie even attended the University of Phoenix to learn coding and teach it to Kantia, who expressed an interest in the career.

The father and sons recently moved from a cramped residence in Germantown to Reading, Pennsylvania, so that Kambel has ample room to create his artwork, some of which can take a month to complete. In Germantown, Lonnie said, “[Kambel] didn’t live in our house; we lived in his studio.”

Kambel’s brother Kantia is now an expert coder with a YouTube channel and 30,000 subscribers. Sister Kanika is married with three children and lives in York, Pa. She is developing a virtual reality arcade and calling it “Autisarian,” a title that incorporates a Smith-family term for what they believe describes the superpowers of people with autism. 

The term is also part of the title of Kambel’s coffee table book, “Autisarian: The Monumental Art of Kambel Smith Cardboard Architecture, American Icons, and the Vision of a Self-Taught Genius.” They’ve even used it as the name of the Smith family’s content-creation company.

The Smiths have also taken on neurodiversity as a family cause. Lonnie Smith serves on the Jefferson Neurodiversity Council, part of Jefferson Health, which advocates for improved services for people with neurodiversity, such as those with autism, ADHD, and learning disabilities. The hospital in Center City commissioned Kambel to create a sculpture of the complex’s Honickman Center. The work is on display under glass on the first floor.

“It represents the strengths of people who are usually underestimated,” Dr. Wendy Ross, director of Jefferson’s Center for Autism & Neurodiversity, said. “It’s about living to your potential, no matter what people may think of you, and maybe even learning from it.”

Kambel’s art conveys a similar message, Lonnie said. “[Kambel] is saying, ‘I’m not disabled,’ He is not the one with the problem. The people who think he has a problem, they are the ones with the problem.”