The Whitechapel Gallery in London currently has a show featuring “outsider” art paired with art by somewhat obsessive and slightly loony “insiders”. An insider usually means “accepted by museums, galleries and art critics” while outsider means “we are not sure this belongs here, but have a look.” It also sometimes means self-taught and probably insane. The pairing is, I imagine, meant to give the outsiders some validation by virtue of the visual similarity of their work to that of accepted professionals. The assumption being that it needs this validation, that it can’t stand on its own. Oddly enough, the pairing sometimes has the opposite effect — it makes the professionals look like fake lunatics.
Of course these comparisons beg the question, what is sanity and does being functional make you a better artist? Full disclosure: I don’t think so — but then, I think a stain on the sidewalk or a blob of construction insulation has the equal value of some Picassos.
Functional to me is the key word. Not sanity. Many “sophisticated” and successful gallery artists are quite mad, lost in their own worlds and emotional wrecks — but they do know how to navigate the shoals and reefs of the art world. Well, a bit. They can compose and posture themselves sufficiently to get by, to talk the talk and walk the walk… though they also might be drooling drug addicts and conversational incompetents. Some of these observations come from personal experience — art dinners and openings.
I’m not sure I know anyone, anyone at all, who is completely sane. Sure, I know plenty of people who play the sanity game with skill and daring. Their masks of having it together are well secured and they don’t spit out profanities or stare goggle-eyed into space. But they are mad, too, though maybe, I’ll admit, to a lesser degree than the poor souls who can’t help but constantly express themselves visually.
The poor “outsiders” never learned or mastered these social skills. Even a would-be self-marketer like Howard Finster never quite got that part right — either the preaching got in the way or he didn’t realize that in the art world one can’t be seen as simply hawking one’s wares — there’s an elaborate song and dance involved that veils the sales pitch, and that must be mastered. But one can be mad, self-obsessed, believe in other worlds and the influence of supernatural forces.
Sophisticated artists who can draw better often intentionally draw in a primitive manner — Paul Klee, Basquiat, Twombly, Dubuffet — and they are seen as deep and profound. Yet the poor “outsiders” are left outside the clubhouse doing the very best they can. They are often viewed as lesser artists because their lack of exhibited drafting skill was not their choice. This, to me, seems perverse. I enjoy much of the work of the 4 very successful artists mentioned above, but probably what moves me is when any of them touch something deep that we all have in common — and the “outsiders” sometimes resonate those same deep dark parts of ourselves. The difference is they can’t remove themselves from the experience and step back and away from it. To distance oneself, to feign objectivity — this, then, is the mark of a civilized artist. A useful, possibly essential social skill to have — but not, in my opinion, a criterion by which to judge the work.
