I’m back on track (sort of) after returning from the conference in Heidelberg  and finishing a course on visual culture.  I have a lot to report.

The International conference was initiated by the Prinzhorn Collection and the European Outsider Art Association to discuss ethical questions around outsider art. It was held at the University of Heidelberg, where the Prinzhorn collection is housed. Since 2001, the collection has been on display in a former oratory of the University of Heidelberg and it has always been my dream to go there.

I don’t know what I expected or hoped to see – maybe a museum the size of a large house. In the photograph above, the museum is in a couple of rooms on the ground floor of the tall building in the foreground.

Sadly, the museum is very small, and only a tiny (very tiny) portion of  the permanent collection is on display at any one time. I saw a cabinet of original wood carvings by former psychiatric patients under the care of Hans Prinzhorn. You would recognize the carvings because they have appeared in almost every outsider art book published (like the one by Karl Brendel to the left). I approached the cabinet with a shock of recognition – the carvings were so familiar to me, but still surprising to see the real thing. They are small – something that is difficult to appreciate when seeing a photograph in a book. They are all about 12 inches (30 cm) tall, but the carvings are detailed and exquisite. I wished that I could hold them. I am always struck by the incredible creativity and imagination in every piece of outsider art that I see, and these were no exception.

The entrance to the museum holds a reception desk, a couple of benches,  a very small collection of books, and a few postcards. The main exhibit room is quite large, with a balcony that wraps around 3 sides of the room.

Currently on exhibit is the work of Ovartaci (1849 – 1985), from Denmark (shown below). The theme of much of his work is transformation; he castrated himself in his transition from male to female. Other life-sized paintings and paper mache figures are fantastical creatures representing various reincarnation cycles of his life – a butterfly, bird, puma, and tiger. His own painted bed is the centre-piece of the exhibit, in a re-creation of his room in the psychiatric hospital.

Around the balcony were a few drawings from the permanent collection, as well as gorgeous photographs by Ono Ludwig, also on the theme of gender roles.

The most peculiar thing (to me) was the curator’s decision to refer to Ovartaci as “he” when Ovartaci clearly identified as female. I asked why that decision had been made and was told that the original biographical/archival material referred to Ovartaci as a male, and they decided to follow that decision. I doubt that the same decision would be made in North America…

On Thursday, May 9^th, Gallery Gachet in Vancouver hosted a special evening around the current exhibit INTUIT: ART OF THE INTUITIVE.  In an effort to shine light on intuitive art practices, a roundtable discussion examined the boundaries between outsider/visionary art and what is accepted as mainstream art.

The four exhibiting artists spoke about their work:  Laurie Marshall, Hugh Lunn, Helen Keyes,  and Kate Paulsen.

My apologies for the tiny photos at the top of this blog (I forgot to take my camera to the exhibit). The first two photos are of Laurie Marshall’s paintings. (See earlier blogs.) Laurie is one of my favourite outsider artists – his work is whimsical and creative. By the time I arrived, most of his paintings were sold, an outstanding accomplishment for any artist. Laurie took it all in stride.

I learned about Hugh Lunn (see large photograph at top), an artist who lives in Smith Falls, Ontario. (A friend and correspondent, Pierre Leichner, was there to present Lunn’s work.) Lunn learned drafting skills while studying engineering at Queens University (Canada). He worked in the Canadian Airforce until his mental health issues necessitated him leaving his employment. For the past 15 years, Lunn has been designing an aerospace craft that could break the light barrier and carry passengers on short range flights.  He has drafted thousands of pages of airplane designs.

Lunn’s designs are rooted in his aeronautical knowledge, the Bible, and Star Trek. His technical drawings are done on large sheets of Mylar, and many are covered in writings about religious, political, and personal events. He proudly sent his drawings to the Queen of England and the President of the United States (although I understand they did not respond).

It is quite a sight to see Lunn’s “canvasses” hung in the gallery, and it is impossible to walk by them without stopping to examine the details. I wish Lunn could have been there to explain some of his ideas. I saw the exhibit with a young engineering student who was intrigued by the work, and spent hours poring over the specifications and patent information that Lunn had set out in separate letters. Could one of his drawings ever be successfully built? Lunn, for sure, is quite confident about his technological skills.

You can read more about Helen Keyes and Kate Paulsen’s beautiful work on Gallery Gachet’s website.

On Thursday, May 9^th, Gallery Gachet in Vancouver is hosting a special evening around the current exhibit INTUIT: ART OF THE INTUITIVE.  Be there at 7:00 p.m. to join in the conversation about the differences between intuitive and instructive art making. By shining light on intuitive art practices, the discussion will examine the boundaries between outsider/visionary art and what is accepted as mainstream art.

The four exhibiting artists will speak about their work:  Hugh Lunn, Helen Keyes, Laurie Marshall, and Kate Paulsen. I will be talking about my research on Canadian outsider art. A roundtable discussion will follow.

I will report on the evening in my next blog.

People in the world of outsider art in Vancouver have been telling me that I have to meet “Ray”, but they couldn’t tell me where I might find him. They said he was “around” and that I would meet him sooner or later. Well, I finally met Ray by sheer chance, when he was painting outside the Vancouver Art Gallery last week.

I noticed an artist with a shopping cart full of art supplies:  boards to paint on, big cans of paint, an assortment of brushes. He seemed to be packing up for the day, so I wandered over to see what was happening.  I soon learned that I was standing in front of Ray, and a small collection of his artwork. He was delighted to hear that I knew about him.

Ray is in his 50s, and says he has been painting for a long time, but couldn’t be more specific than that. Apparently his style changes frequently and he just happens to be creating abstract work right now. He loves to paint – that’s just who he is.  I was curious to know how he sells his work. He sells at least one painting a day right off the street. The best sales are at night when the pubs empty out. He says his work is owned by hundreds of people in Vancouver.

I learned something disturbing when I asked if any galleries carried his work. Sadly, Ray says that gallery owners buy up a lot of his work for a few dollars, then sell them in their galleries at highly marked up prices. I asked if they gave him a percentage of sales, and they do not. We discussed the injustice of it all. Ray knows the galleries are taking advantage of him, and is resigned to the situation. Having just written about ethical issues in outsider art (and about to attend a conference on the topic), I am acutely aware how life is for street artists. Their personal circumstances leave them quite powerless in the commercial art world.

I recently joined the European Outsider Art Association   a fairly new organization established in 2009. (Thank you to Nita in Sweden for telling me about it.) Given the lack of dialogue about outsider art in Canada, I was delighted to discover the EOA and find a group of professionals with whom I could explore outsider art issues.

The EOA’s purpose is to strengthen the voice of outsider art by improving intercultural cooperation and dialogue across the European borders. Its objectives are to:

• create a favourable environment for those in this field willing to share experience, exchange good practice and set up partnerships at a transnational level
• collect knowledge and share out information on activities and movements in the international outsider art scene
• contribute to the shaping, development and implementation of national and European policies and legislation
• create a forum for promoting, exploring and debating the history and contemporary state of outsider art
• promote the rights of outsider artists

I will be attending a conference in Heidelberg in May (2013), called Ethical Issues in Outsider Art. The purpose of the gathering is to clarify what constitutes an ethically responsible approach to dealing with artists and artwork in the outsider art field. Because outsider artists are often not able to represent themselves in the art world or the art market, the curator, dealer, or buyer has an obligation to act responsibly.

In the past, psychiatrists typically claimed the work of their patients for themselves. But who actually owns the artwork? In many situations, the answer is not clear.

In speaking with the director of one open studio, I learned that it is common practice for organizations that sponsor the workshops or studios to claim ownership of the artwork produced there. This was described to me as an ethical and moral issue. It’s not just that; it is also a legal issue! Copyright remains with the artist unless and until the artist assigns it to someone else. You can imagine the difficulties that arise when the artists are mentally or intellectually challenged.

I am interested to hear what ownership views are among outsider art professionals, what practices are common, and how they can be standardized (and enforced) to protect outsider artists. I will report back from the conference.

Photos: Gregory Crewdson, August Walla,  Cindy Sherman

Sometimes people ask me about certain outsider artists. They comment that all his/her work looks the same and ask if the artist ever does anything different. I usually comment on the artist’s signature “style” and leave it at that. (But I certainly know what they mean.. some of it does look remarkably alike.)

One of my favourite photographers is Gregory Crewdson, who creates elaborately staged scenes of small town America. I recently saw a documentary about him, called Brief Encounter. When talking about his own work, Crewdson remarks that every artist has one story to tell and he tells it over and over again. The images may be different, but the story is the same.

Is this true?  I decided to watch some interviews with artists that I admire to see what they had to say about the body of their work. Kara Walker was quite explicit about the narrative of her work. Her silhouettes of Deep South slavery scenes are instantly recognizable, but she describes them as being about an exchange of power. And sculptor Kiki Smith describes her work as being about morbidity.  Walker talked about her experience of being an African American female artist and Smith talked about death masks of family members being around the house when she was growing up. It made perfect sense how and why their personal narratives were so integral to their artwork.

This pattern is even more exaggerated in the world of outsider art. I look back to Kuhler’s Roccaterrania where justice is done in his fantasy world. Darger’s children avenge evil adults. Morton Bartlett mourned the absence of children in his solitary life. The artists’ styles are consistent, and little is done to explore other ways to represent that theme. Why is that? Perhaps they are not interested in exploring other techniques. Or maybe it doesn’t matter to them. Their artwork is for themselves, not the public, so there is no need for Kuhler, for example, to find a new way to represent “justice.” The story is of primary importance, not the image.

I can only think of one outsider artist who has explored a variety of artistic methods – August Walla, an artist at Gugging in Austria. He collects and converts trash, he does calligraphy, and he paints. He installs symbols and signs in the landscape, on trees, and on roads. He poses for photographs in different places, with self-produced objects in different places. (Wait a minute, haven’t we heard this before? See photos above.)

What other outsider artists use a variety of techniques and styles in their work?

I just returned from a trip to Whitehorse, Yukon Territories, in Canada. For those of you who live far, far away, and don’t know the geography of Canada, I was waaay up north. I thought I was close to the Arctic Circle, but on closer inspection of a map, I realized that I wasn’t quite that far on top of the globe.  Anyway, I went there to find out what it would be like to be in a place that was dark all day and to see the Northern Lights. (Yeah, I know.)

The truth is often surprising. In fact, it was NOT dark all day, but the day was short. The sun peaked over the mountains around 10:30 a.m., which is a helluva good time to wake up anyway. The sun made a shallow arc through the sky, and set around 4:30 p.m. And the sky was brilliantly blue all day. For someone who craves sunshine, it was a good place to visit.

Tales are tall in the North Country. I seemed to have arrived in a “heat wave” and daytime temperatures were a moderate -12 degrees Celsius. It dipped to -27 degrees around 2:00 in the morning the night I stayed up to watch (look for) the northern lights. In my mind, I would experience a psychedelic light show every night, from the confines of a warm cabin with a fire, but alas, it didn’t happen that way. In fact, the lights are sometimes elusive, and all I saw was a white strip that grew across the horizon around midnight. When photographed, the light showed up green (for reasons that were explained to me, but didn’t understand). I have photographs of me standing in front of some version of the aurora borealis, but it wasn’t really like that in reality. I will have to return another time for the full blown experience. However, I did get to go dog-sledding and that, is something that EVERYONE should do at least once in their lifetime! It was more fun that I have words to explain.

I was told that the month before, in December, the temperature dropped to -57 Celsius in a near-by town, but another local told me that it dipped to -67 degrees! I have no idea if this was truth or hyperbole, but I was happy to have arrived in the tropical season.

What does this have to do with outsider art? Well, forever on the search for outsider artists, I asked a few locals if they knew of any people who were a little out-of-the-ordinary, and created artwork, in private, in their homes. This question always got a similar answer: “You’re talking about just about everyone who lives here!” I learned that Yukoners call themselves “the colourful 5%” because they are the 5% of the Canadian population who live up north because they don’t fit in with the rest of the population. Well, this is the perfect breeding ground for outsider artists, but I didn’t manage to identify anyone who was the type of artist I was seeking. But I know they live there.

So, if any of my readers can provide me with further details, I’ll follow up. Thanks.

Computer problems. Need I say more? Finally back on track.

After  learning about the Coast Mental Health Association’s art workshop in Vancouver, I wandered into the space – called the Art Room – to see what it was all about. There were about 6 men in the room, sitting around a large table. Several were painting, one was socializing, and one was flipping through magazines to get some ideas for a new painting. I was greeted warmly and invited to join the group. Professional artist, Jeanne Krabbendam, volunteers at the Art Room. She was available to answer questions, like how to paint shadows on a geometric design, but does not “teach” the group or guide their work. She had some curious onlookers when she picked up her own paintbrush and doodled a design on an old canvas. The atmosphere was pleasant and fun, and I got the impression that the group enjoyed being together as much as they enjoyed doing artwork.

I chatted with one regular artist, who dropped by for a visit. The others were quick to advise me that he was a talented  sculptor and carver. They kept saying, “You gotta see his stuff!” When I asked if this were so, he modestly agreed that he enjoyed doing his artwork and said that he had hundreds of pieces at his home. I asked if he had any pieces at the workshop. “No.” I asked if I might be able to see some of his work. “No,” but with a smile. I have had that reaction so many times that I wasn’t offended. So many “outsiders” are protective of their privacy and keep their creative endeavours behind locked doors. Maybe one day I’ll get to see one of his pieces. Or maybe not.

One artist, Leef Evans, was gathering some of his own work to take to an exhibit (photo above). I had seen one of his pieces before but was not aware that he was so prolific or so gifted.  Before taking up painting, Leef led a fragmented and chaotic life on the streets. His life was consumed by depression, which landed him in the hospital for long periods of time. He says that if he did not find the Art Room and this community of artists, he cannot imagine where he would be now. To meet Leef at this juncture in his life, it is hard to imagine what he describes of his past. He is open, kind, funny and dedicated to his art. Leef has a loyal and supportive group of collectors and has made quite a name for himself in the Vancouver art world. It is well deserved.

The long, long delay in postings is the result of getting my getting acclimatized to returning to university as a (very) mature graduate student. Yup, it’s true. My thesis, of course, will focus on Canadian outsider art.

My research will document what we know (not much) and don’t know (lots) about outsider art in Canada. My first line of inquiry is to define what outsider art means to Canadian art professionals. I have a feeling that this one question could take years to answer, but I am starting by looking at art workshops established by public organizations concerned with mental health issues. This is my first inquiry because in parts of Europe (like Germany, Switzerland and Austria) the definition of outsider art is still rooted in the world of mental health.

When I was in Berlin, I learned that Gallery Art Cru exhibits artwork created in studios specifically established for people with mental disabilities. In discussing this with gallery director Alexandra von Gersdorff-Bultmann, I discovered there was a  huge difference of opinion between North America and parts of Europe as to which artists are “in” and which are “out”. As we already know, the definition of outsider art in the USA includes just about everybody without artistic training who picks up a paintbrush, felt pen, or pencil and decides to create something. (OK – I exaggerate a bit.) But, really,
the genre is wide open, as you would expect in a country like the USA. The Germans were puzzled about how North Americans would work with such a vague and all-encompassing definition of outsider art. Good point. Personally, I think outsider art is defined more by its spirit than its roots, but I may be way off on that point.

My first step was to find out if Canada has open art studios and indeed we do. I had no idea. As far as I can tell, they work pretty much the same as those in Europe. Studios are open to just about anyone who has an interest in exploring art – those without a home, those struggling with mental or physical health issues, and so on. As in Europe, the studios are staffed by people who give some guidance on the use of art materials, but do not provide art lessons. I had the opportunity to attend an event sponsored by the Coast Mental Health Association. I met mentors and participants and got the same answer from all of them:

It is the creation of the artwork that provides the therapy, not the interpretation of it. It is not art therapy. It is art as therapy.

I want to tell you an important story about outsider artists in Los Angeles. For four years, a group of independent filmmakers in Los Angeles followed the lives and progress of several artists from LA’s Skid Row, which has the largest population of homeless people in the USA.

Some artists find their art supplies in dumpsters and draw on old paper bags. Many joined art workshops staffed by artists and social workers and are given paint and canvasses, as well as the creative support and guidance to create stunning and therapeutic works of art.  Some artists have gone on to show their work in downtown Los Angeles galleries.

The documentary shows us how art can change lives. One artist said that coming to the workshop was the only reason she has to get up in the morning. Another has been admitted on scholarship to the art school at the University of California, Berkeley. Sadly, his immigration status prevents him from attending. Art has given their lives meaning and us an opportunity to appreciate their talent.

The film is called Humble Beauty: Skid Row Artists. It has been shown at film festivals throughout the USA, and has won a long list of awards. The producers have been offered distribution on PBS stations, and they are thrilled that the film will not be available to millions of viewers. Humble Beauty will be shown on PBS on September 15th. Watch for it on your local PBS station!

The filmmakers are asking for our help. They do not receive payment for these broadcasts, and there are considerable expenses in getting the film prepared for PBS standards. It must be re-edited for time requirements, broadcast insurance must be bought, music rights must be extended and promotional materials prepared. You can help by making a donation (by PayPal) at their campaign website. I did.