Outsider art? Folk art? Art Brut? Raw art?

This is a question i am asked often. Usually, i sort of look slanty-eyed at the person asking it, as though they are saying “are you sure you’re an outsider artist?” Though they never mean it that way - it’s a genuine question. “What is an outsider artist? You’re a folk artist!”

It’s a good question. The answer is sort of a funny one. My definition is someone who doesn’t fit in. That can mean socially, but i mean it more in terms of genre. Where would you put my mules? They’re not part of a movement, they’re not fine art. They don’t fit in neatly anywhere, and as someone said recently, outsider art is “art with an accent.” Love that idea. Art that is distinctly of that person and their own little outside current from the river, making their own art-creek. Upon investigation, i am still probably wrong. Not sure where my mules belong.

But so much for my flourishy folky explanation. There are a lot of terms that can be used almost interchangeably. Folk, naive, outsider, art brut, raw art. All essentially terms to describe someone who is making art outside of the Art World. They don’t necessarily show at galleries, or even show their art to anyone else, or call what they’re making art. These are the definitions but the gist is, outsider art and folk art are nearly the same, and generally refers to people who did not go to school to learn how to draw. There is a BA in art studio to my name, but i don’t think the handful of painting classes i took taught me how to paint - i had never used acrylics before college - and i still ain’t understand them now!

Washday by self-taught artist and Louisianian Clementine Hunter.
Source: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smithsonian-institution/self-taught-artist-clementine-hunter-painted-bold-hues-southern-life-180970572/

Outsider art:

“Art produced by self-taught artists who are not part of the artistic establishment.
Self-taught or naive art makers with little or no contact with the main stream art world of their institutions. They may exhibit extreme mental states, unconventional ideas or create elaborate fantasy worlds.”

Folk art:

This term is used in European countries to define art made in the context of folk culture; clothes, toys, cookware, jewelry- Mexico’s alebrijes are a good example. More commonly over here, it is used to describe untrained or artists, whose work is shaped by experience and not by formal art training. They may make art with what they have on hand, like Howard Finster - house paint, old wood, car doors, bicycle grease. Algiers, Louisiana, has the Folk Art Zone as maintained by artist Charles Gilliam. He makes art out of wood that has washed up out of the Mississippi river near his house.

Examples include Henry Darger, James Hampton, Annie Hooper, Leonard Knight, Howard Finster, Charles Gilliam, Missionary Mary, CM Laster, Butch Anthony, Clementine Hunter.

A Darger “blengin.” Source: https://theartstack.com/artist/henry-darger/cat-headed-blengin?product_referrer_user_id=429585562

Art Brut or Raw Art:

Art Brut is the French term for outsider art, first coined in 1948. “Work created in solitude and from pure and authentic impulses-where the worries of competition, acclaim and social promotion do not interfere.” - Jean Debuffet.

“Raw because it is 'uncooked' or 'unadulterated' by culture. Raw because it is creation in its most direct and uninhibited form. Not only were the works unique and original but their creators were seen to exist outside established culture and society. The purest of Art Brut creators would not consider themselves artists, nor would they even feel that they were producing art at all.” - https://rawvision.com/about/what-is-outsider-art

Examples include: Bill Traylor, Adolf Wolfi

Raw art by Adolf Wolfli work from https://www.wikiart.org/en/adolf-wolfli/untitled

Raw art by Bill Traylor from https://www.moma.org/artists/7464?=undefined&page=1&direction=

Naive Art: “Simple, unaffected and unsophisticated - usually specifically refers to art made by artists with no formal training.” - the Tate.
”The definition of the term, and its "borders" with neighboring terms such as folk art and outsider art, has been a matter of some controversy. Naïve art is a term usually used for the forms of fine art, such as paintings and sculptures, but made by a self-taught artist, while objects with a practical use come under folk art. But this distinction has been disputed. Another term that may be used, especially of paintings and architecture, is "provincial", essentially used for work by artists who had received some conventional training, but whose work unintentionally falls short of metropolitan or court standards.“ - wikipedia.

Artists include: Maria Prymachenko, Grandma Moses, Henri Rousseau, Horace Pippin.

Naive artist Horace Pippin - http://www.myblackhistory.net/Horace_Pippin.htm

Naive artist Maria Prymachenko - https://www.aboavetusarsnova.fi/en/exhibitions/the-fabulous-world-of-maria-prymachenko

This was written back in August, and after a review i suppose y’all can see it. Be interested to know what y’all think. The heck is outsider art anyhow?

The Mule Mural Movement

Well, maybe not a movement. Just some alliteration. So it all started with artist Susan David’s murals around downtown Lafayette. Two-story paintings, saints hidden in alley ways, squids crawling across entire buildings. They were everywhere, they were beautiful, and they were big! She also did a yearly live-painting with local artists called Project Rooster Teeth.

Here’s a snippet about it from their website:

But Art is the process of making and creating and it is a very rare treat to be able to experience. So an artist at work is rare like rooster teeth. Now we’re vibing! The old wives tale about Rooster’s Teeth and Hen’s Teeth is that they are so rare that they do not exist in nature. And when an artist doesn’t have something, normally they make it.

Project Rooster Teeth is designed to literally take our voices and practice to the streets to encourage a dialogue between our areas local artists, the art enthusiasts, the general public and those whose experience with visual arts, public art, and urban street arts is limited which will ultimately benefit the Acadiana area and beyond.

This year i had the chance to participate, after admiring Project Rooster Teeth and Susan David’s work for awhile. There were six artists and five walls, all 8 feet by 8 feet. It was exciting and nerve-wracking to paint at such a large scale in front of so many watching eyes! The artists i got to paint with were Shelly Breaux, Sarah D. Ruiz, Hannah Gumbo, and students mentored by artist Susan David.

The sketch is a rough idea of what i hoped to accomplish. It was intimidating to paint at something so big, i wasn’t sure where to start.

Photo by Susan David

We painted from 4ish - 8ish at the Acadiana Center for the Arts in downtown Lafayette. Time absolutely flew by. It was amazing to interact with people interacting with the painting. All types and all ages came up to see it and comment on it. It was especially neat to see young girls come up and connect with the mules, or horses, in the same way that i would have done at their age.

Despite stepping back to get perspective, it was tough to free hand such a big piece, so it’s a little wonky. But it got done. We took photos, talked with the other incredible artists, and went home in the rain. It was a strange and wonderful kind of euphoria after the thing was said and done. I was ready to paint more! The bigger you paint, i think, the bigger you keep wanting to paint!

“We was born in the same house” is a line i picked up and have been carrying with me from a Faulkner book. It meant something different in the book, but to me it means we’re all the same folks, no matter what. It’s hard to keep that in mind sometimes. That translated to this painting, which i thought up while i was on a run. It kept in my mind for a little while, and i felt good enough to not sketch it. But there’s learning in sketching, too, so i did that a couple times to prepare.

That 8 x 8 foot painted helped me get comfortable going ‘really big,’ and had me used to climbing a ladder and slinging paint everywhere by the end of it.

Summertime came around and i was asked about doing a painting for some folks in New Orleans. They have four big paintings on their walkway outside of their very beautiful home in the Irish Channel. So in July, in between New Orleans summer storms, i was climbing ladders and slinging paint.

The past two months have seen me in my studio doing smaller paintings, usually 6”x6” on wood. It was an unexpected exhalation and mediation to get to use an arm roller to reach the 8 foot height on this wall. It about two days, and ending in a drizzling rain, the mule got it’s crown and it was done. The individual that commissioned this painting is an artist as well, living by the ‘you buy art, i buy art’ principle. Which i think is so important! You can check out her amazing art here: https://www.hollysudduth.com/

Driving over on the second morning of painting, it was just this electric feeling of luck all over me. The drive took me over the Mississippi River, i could see the skyline of the crescent city on my right. Down Tchoupitoulas to my destination. Growing up and visiting New Orleans, filling sketchbooks with drawings and lovingly photographing the city, i don’t think i ever would have dreamed of this reality. It is really such a blessing to be here now, in this life, and feeling awfully like i was born lucky. If my mule paintings can be one thing, i hope they’re a love letter to the person who gets to bring them home.

studio notes 1

There had been a poll at some point, yall had asked for more behind-the-scenes things and in the studio stories.

I am very fortunate to have room for a studio, room where i can close the door and leave it a disaster. Very thankful for my studio practice, and that i also have the two blessings of time and space. Many in-progress photos i do not share in real-time because i have this superstition about eyes on unfinished work. They get to see the light now that they’re all done.

The year started with my dad asking me how many works i had made in 2018. No idea. No way to tell. 2019 began the numbering, which i am faithful to, and May 1st saw painting #200 come to completion. It began with wood sized 6”x6” through 9”x9”, inspired surely due to artist Mariah Hope. I got to know her over the course of my first residency in Ellijay, Georgia. Still thinking about my time there and surprised in the unexpected ways it is still helping me along, many months later.

This work was an exhalation, so many thoughts that had been buzzing transferred onto smaller paintings. Figuring, sorting, fighting. That must have been eighty or so paintings. The next superstition i’ve bared in public already: i always sweep and clean my studio after something feels done - usually a big project or say, eighty smaller paintings.

Wompus cat is usually on hand, or in my lap, if she can manage it. She’s getting older and beginning to spend more time thinking about being outside - her spring days have seen her on the porch, a little nervous about venturing much further out. Despite missing her in my daylight studio hours, she still logs time with me up there at night.

Recently i have moved rooms for where i paint, after sprucing up the walls of the studio in the photos. We live in an old house, no central air or heat, and the room i moved into has a working window unit and working fan. You can imagine how an upstairs room might start to heat up in the humidity of a Louisiana summer.

The new room is bare bones, i have spread everything out on the floor, and i sort of work in a circular motion around the room. There are often two to three paintings going on at once, sometimes more.

Nearing painting #220 so far this year, and working towards 100 mules for Finster Fest, close to 60 mules are in the herd. Been anxious to begin making larger paintings again, one has met completion but the other two are stalled in puzzlement.