Finally working for my company has paid off – employees got 2 free admissions to the American Visionary Art Museum with our badges this weekend. The museum, as the name implies, specifically showcases “visionary art,” defined on the museum’s website as:

Like love, you know it when you see it. But here’s the longer definition, straight out of our Mission Statement: “Visionary art as defined for the purposes of the American Visionary Art Museum refers to art produced by self-taught individuals, usually without formal training, whose works arise from an innate personal vision that revels foremost in the creative act itself.” In short, visionary art begins by listening to the inner voices of the soul, and often may not even be thought of as ‘art’ by its creator.

They are also careful to differentiate between folk art and visionary art, since the two are sometimes very similar:

The essential difference between the two, though both may at times use similar materials and methods, is that visionary artists don’t listen to anyone else’s traditions. They invent their own. They hear their own inner voice so resoundingly that they may not even think of what they do as ‘art.’ Dubuffet’s beloved Art Brut Collections, formed exclusively from the “raw art” creations of non-artists, such as street people, hermits, factory workers, housewives and psychic mediums, motivated him to say: “Art is at its best when it forgets its very name.” It is this listening to one’s inner voice with such focused attention that contributes to the unusually large number of visionary art works -many of which took decades to create. Yet there are still common threads. The most common theme of visionary artists worldwide is the backyard recreation of the Garden of Eden and other utopian visions -quite literally building heaven on earth.

Since they favor untrained artists, the pieces there are really raw and powerful. The whole museum is like a testament to the human need for expression and creativity. And, as the quote above mentions with the “utopian visions” thing, a need to create a better world, even if only on this tiny scale.

The current exhibit (it’s easier just to cut/paste, sorry for all the quotes [not really]):

Life, Liberty & the Pursuit of Happiness
October 3, 2009 – September 5, 2010

“The quest for human rights and the search for personal fulfillment, as proposed in the 1776 American Declaration of Independence, provide the starting point for this international exhibition. Works by the last surviving descendant of the Tsars of Russia, Iroquois Indians, French Revolutionaries, illegal immigrants, Algerian War veterans, Guantanamo Bay detainees, Holocaust survivors, incarcerated prisoners, African-American civil rights activists and Iraqi doctors are among the 86 visionary artists to be featured.”

Unfortch the AVAM doesn’t allow pics inside and I forgot my pen so I couldn’t write down specific artists and I totally thought I would remember the names but obviously have not. There were a few pieces by an Iraqi doctor – he had worked under Saddam Hussein – his pieces were sort of surreal; my favorite was a human body (sort of) that had a cage in the torso and most of the head. I believe there was also a sharp metal rod piercing (or holding together) the two legs (looked like a giant staple). I remember in his little bio he said that as a doctor he couldn’t give life back to his patients and could only compete with death. Plus, working for Hussein no doubt meant being on guard at all times – even before reading about him you could see in his work the sense of trapped-ness, torture and fear. There were also several less-than-uplifting pieces by Civil Rights activists and Holocaust survivors.

About halfway through Chris went to go sit somewhere else because he couldn’t take any more – some of the pieces were pretty painful. It’s hard for me to figure out how to word this so stick with me: while I don’t enjoy seeing other peoples’ pain, I do find it really amazing that they were able to find a way to express what they were feeling, even if they were never able to escape whatever their circumstances were. There is something really beautiful and strong about channeling yourself into a piece of art (whether you consider it a work of art or not), rather than just lying down and dying. I guess I’m glad they were able to find a way to talk and I’m glad I’m there to listen. I always leave the museum feeling a little more tender towards my fellow human beings.

Some of the stuff was less political – there were some yarn pieces by a woman (again, I’m totally forgetting names) who was a high-functioning autistic so she lived on her own but couldn’t really hold down a job. She knit tons of stuff – there was some clothing, but also huge yarn masks (one looked like a horse head). Her family threw it away when she died but I guess some wandering museum curator saw it and dug it out. This exhibit is the first time it’s been shown, apparently.

I wish I had pictures or something but no photography allowed and nothing is online. And I can’t remember any artist’s names. I’m useful!