The job of a muse, says Germaine Greer, is to penetrate the male artist and call forth a work from the womb of his mind. She is the anima to his animus, the yin to his yang. When I saw the work of Claude Bolduc from Quebec, I wondered if the same muse spoke to him and Hieronymus Bosch across the span of 500 years.

Bosch was a respectable, Catholic citizen of a small town in the Netherlands in the mid-15th Century. Sometimes called ‘the devil’s painter’, Bosch’s fantastical imagery portrayed heretical religious narratives; the most memorable are those that depict his nightmarish images of Hell. Bosch’s paintings are instantly recognizable, for it would be impossible to see one without stopping to stare, in trippy wonder, at the abominable events that await us in Hell (as depicted in image above.)

It’s not that Bolduc’s artwork is heretical. It is not, especially from the perspective of the 21st Century viewer. Rather, his work is Bosch-like because it commands us to stop and consider his proposition from an anything-but-orthodox perspective. I was intrigued when I first encountered Bolduc’s work a few years ago in Quebec, but I had no appreciation for the extent of his work until I met him recently. Bolduc has a long history of creative ventures. Always invested in personal creative expression, he started his career as a composer until life showed him another path – one that he didn’t have to share with others. The decision to pursue art wasn’t so much an epiphany, but rather his lingering memory of the artwork of Arthur Villeneuve, a Québécois painter whom he met as a young man. Although Villeneuve’s early (and private) work was eccentric and unorthodox, he went on to become a well-respected member of the Canadian art establishment. But it was Villeneuve’s early work that inspired Bolduc: unconventional images and an intensely personal means of self-expression. Bolduc describes his own art as ‘art singulier’, a term that describes self-taught artists who are entirely outside the fine art system, either by choice or by circumstance. As Bolduc says, it gives him the right to be himself.

The subject of many of Bolduc’s paintings is the skewering of the Church, literally and figuratively. (Above: Coup D’Etat Sur L’Eglise (A Coup on the Church), 1999 – 2000.)  It’s not that he has lost his faith; in fact, he is a deeply spiritual person, who believes in the fundamental teachings of the Bible. It is the failings of the Church that trouble him and fuel his prolific art practice. He tends to work in themed series, like the Tarot, The Seven Stations of the Cross, Spirituality, and so on. There is much to show you in next month’s blogs, from early paintings, to drawings, to pastels.

My article about Canadian outsider artist, Jordan MacLachlan, was just published in the current edition (#94) of Raw Vision, the international magazine of outsider art. Titled, The Stuff of Life: The sculptures of Jordan MacLachlan, the article begins like this:

Jordan MacLachlan is a storyteller, describing to us what is, was, and could be. Sometimes the stories are a Grimm’s fairy tale of horror; others are benevolent and quirky propositions that ask: what if this happened?

The article introduces readers to her current sculpture series, Unexpected Subway Living, in which  MacLachlan explores the consequences of a catastrophe that forces people and animals into the underworld of subways. Her 300 sculptures populate a 24-foot surface, doing ordinary and extraordinary things, from a man smoking a cigarette to a headless woman walking a sounder of swine. It is, undeniably, an intriguing, horrific, and funny story. Check it out.

More about MacLachlan and her work can be found in earlier blogs.

COOL – THE ARCTIC OUTSIDERS, is the name of an upcoming exhibit at Norway’s museum of outsider art. Canadian artist, Jordan MacLachlan, was invited to exhibit her clay vignettes at the festival along with works from other participating Arctic countries: Finland, Iceland, Denmark, Sweden and Norway. (Who knew Canada was an Arctic country?) This makes her an outsider in more ways than the obvious one.

One of the works on exhibit, entitled Marius, is pictured above. It shows the dispassionate response of visitors watching the matter-of-fact killing of the giraffe at the Copenhagen Zoo in 2014. Eighteen-month old Marius was a healthy, but genetically unsuitable, giraffe who was fed his favourite breakfast before he was shot, chopped up, and fed to the lions.

This compelling scene is a fine example from MacLachlan’s large body of work, which bears witness to our complex relationship with animals. We use them for food, work, sport, and companionship. We can also, apparently, get rid of them when they outlive their usefulness.

The exhibit is at Sortroms Museum/Trastad Samlinger, Norway’s Museum for Outsider Art. It runs from 20 June to 1 September 2017. The exhibit will take place in a new gallery in the center of Harstad during The Northern Norway Festival.

Another uber-project from MacLachlan is her vignettes of what does or might happen on the subway. Displayed on a 24-foot table is humanity in all its gory detail: a headless pig-walker, a woman giving birth, and a man being attacked by a pack of dogs. In the midst of this chaos sits a pure white Buddha deep in meditation on a subway seat, oblivious to it all, or perhaps, accepting it all as the stream of life. Not, we hope, what we will encounter on our morning commute to work, but certainly possible if all parallel universes happen to collide in one unforgettable moment.

Such is the vivid vision of Jordan MacLachlan, who sculpts her figures with terracotta, plaster, varnish, paints and make-up. I am forever astounded by the quirky humour of this artist who casually drops laugh-out-loud images into the bleakest scenarios. It leaves me gasping for breath… in a good way. 

Oh, look, there’s a snowman sweeping up debris!

Waaait a minute… is that Santa? Or is it Noah waiting for the animals to hop into his sack?

And then, thankfully, there’s the Buddha, the sole figure of serenity in this glorious jumble of humanity.

Jordan is heading off to NYC for the Outsider Art Fair this weekend, where her work is being featured by Marion Harris. Kudos to you, Jordan!

I met Canadian artist, Jordan McLachlan, earlier this year. Getting to know Jordan and her work has been one of the greatest pleasures of my research into Canadian outsider art, both because her work is outstanding and because she is a remarkable person. As things sometimes go, I was introduced to her work through my friend, gallerist Marion Harris  in New York. She had read an article about Jordan and asked if I knew her work. How is it possible that I had not heard of Jordan before? I thought I had talked to every single person in Canada who was familiar with outsider art. Apparently not.

Since then, I have exchanged many emails with Jordan, and each one reads as if it were crafted by a poet: words roll off the tongue, visual images leap off the page, and emotions bubble into the air to gel as language. I could use the same words to describe her clay sculptures. They touch upon things that are difficult to articulate because they are oh-so-familiar, painful, or cringe-worthy. The word ‘unflinching’ comes to mind when describing Jordan’s view of the world. The above image of her sculpture, Young Woman Attempting to Strangle Herself, is a example of what I mean.

Jordan was born in Toronto in 1959 and, from a very young age, had an affinity for animals. She wove a fantasy family story for herself, choosing to believe she was an abandoned forest creature whose mother had been shot, causing her to be raised by her adoptive human family. She crawled around on all-fours, not wanting to speak, and eating from a dish on the floor. Going to school interrupted that dream, but she spent her after-school hours absorbed in making clay sculptures of animals. That obsession never stopped and a significant portion of her work still features animals in one way or another. They leave you with that uncomfortable reminder that we are, indeed, animals by nature.

Subsequent posts will introduce you to Jordan Maclachlan’s incredible body of work.

It is with great sadness that I write about the passing of Martine Birobent. Her epitaph notes that she died as she lived – fully and deliberately. Suffering from cancer, she chose medical assistance to die on March 30^th  in her hometown of Danville, Quebec.

I wrote about Martine in a previous blog about my visit to La Galerie des Nanas in Quebec. I didn’t have an opportunity to meet her then, as she was away exhibiting her work in France. I knew, however, how passionate she was about her art and promoting the work of other women artists. She was a trailblazer in Canadian outsider art and we owe much to her personal vision about art insubordinaire (insubordinate art). I can honour her best by showing you images of her quirky and imaginative work. Spend some time on her website at http://www.birobent.com/oeuvres/.

Thank you, Martine.

I attended the opening of a new exhibit at La Galerie des Nanas in Danville, Quebec. One of the featured artists was a young woman, Karine Labrie. When I saw her pen and ink drawings, I immediately thought of Madge Gill. The resemblance in their work is remarkable.

Born deaf, Karine is a master of communicating through her hands. She is prolific, creating images from her self-inspired world of fashion – women dressed in extravagant clothing, posed and waiting to be admired. I don’t know much about Karine, but she was at the opening and I met her briefly. Despite being the centre of attention, she seemed to take it all in stride, although she was obviously thrilled to have her work on display.

I saw more of Karine’s work later in Quebec City, at an art organization called Vincent et Moi. (More about this later.) I learned that her work is under review by Collection L’Art Brut in Lausanne, who is likely to add her work to the main collection.

And, in case you have forgotten about British artist, Madge Gill (1882 – 1961)  here is one of her drawings. I am always fascinated to see two artists whose work is so similar. Karine knows nothing about Gill, yet both were compelled to draw intricate images of the classic ‘femme fatale’ in imaginary architectural settings. I have no explanation for this. It is yet another mystery of outsider art.

I was introduced to the work of Anick Langelier at La Galerie des Nanas  in Danville, Quebec. I did not get to meet Anick in person, but I was able to see part of her extensive collection. Anick is a young artist from Montreal who has been painting since her mid-teens as a way to cope with her schizophrenia. You can see the imagery of some traditional masters in her work, but she has developed her own style and imagery on heavily-painted canvasses. She depicts life as she experiences it: strange universes, God, good and evil, and “dreamy-haunting” worlds of childhood.”

If there is one word I could use to describe Anick, it is PROLIFIC! She has hundreds of paintings in her own home and hundreds more with the gallery. Here are more samples of her work (from La Galerie des Nanas website):

Holy smokes! It has been a very long time since I sat down to write a blog. Far too often, life (and academic work) takes over. I left you waiting for news of outsider artists in Quebec and I have a lot to tell you. So let’s get started.

I took a trip from Montreal to the town of Danville, Quebec, to meet up with Jean-Robert Bisaillon at La Galerie des Nanas. His wife, artist Martine Birobent, was in France getting ready for an exhibit, so I didn’t get a chance to meet her. Jean-Robert and Martine are the owners of the gallery and they have an interesting view of outsider art, calling it insubordoneé (insubordinate, defiant, disobedient) and féministe (feminist) art. Its aim is to exhibit art that is contrary to established norms and, in particular, art created by women. Because women artists have been neglected and ignored throughout art history,  the gallery focuses its efforts on promoting their work. With the exception of one male artist (Olivier Blot), the gallery is packed with vibrant artwork of international and Canadian women – paintings, sculptures, drawings, dolls and masks.  That in itself was a novel experience.

A lot of Martine’s work is on exhibit at the gallery, and for those of you who are freaked out by dolls, I suggest you stop reading now.

In addition to large anthropomorphic sculptures, Martine has a passion for dolls. She knits them into outfits that cover their entire bodies. My first impression was of  women veiled for propriety, but these veils are quite different. Although they bind the dolls tightly, they cannot hide some things: babies pop out of bellies, breasts are far-too-obvious beneath taut clothing, and eyes peer out from web-like masks.

The dolls are quirky but not amusing. They are no longer things to play with. (Or are they?) These classic children’s toys have been turned into lifeless and trapped objects. They are disturbing and disquieting images:  frozen and mute women who are unable to communicate their own stories of imprisonment.

One of my readers observed Birobent’s subversive use of traditional female items (dolls and knitting) as a way to expose the male, patriarchal,  gaze.  It’s not just a sense of physical confinement that we witness, but one of cultural confinement, too. Well said.

(Images are from La Galerie des Nanas website.)