Judith Scott and Outsider Art

Early on in our Criticism Class I mentioned "outsider art" as being difficult to criticize - without really knowing all that much about it, I knew that art created by untrained individuals would necessarily incite different sorts of criticism than art created within the established structures of society. I've since done a bit more research, and discovered that I genuinely like the weirdness of these outsider artists.

There's something really compelling about just feeling the urge to make something, an urge so strong you would just MAKE, regardless of convention. And I'm not alone: the re-purposing of ordinary objects that's seen in many outsider's work was adopted into the mainstream by modernists like Marcel Duchamp. Even Picasso drew inspiration from the untrained eyes of children for his work.  The involvement of these highly influential and controversial artists with the "domestication" of outsider art only makes it more intriguing.  But I digress! Let's move on to what I really want to talk about: Judith Scott.

Judith Scott and her fraternal twin Joyce were born in Columbus, Ohio in May 1943. Judith was born with Down-Syndrome, and a bout of Scarlet fever as an infant left her deafened. Thus, when it came time for the girls to attend school, Judith was considered "profoundly retarded" and found to be ineducable. On the advice of medical and religious counsel, Judith's parents had her institutionalized at the age of 7. She would spend the next 35 years of her life as a ward of the State of Ohio, in various institutions for the disabled.

In 1986, the adult Joyce found Judith and took her to live with her family in California, against the advice of her mother. Judith was able to enroll in adult education classes at the Creative Growth Art Center in Oakland. After almost two years of exhibiting little interest in painting or drawing, Judith observed a demonstration of fiber art by visiting artist Sylvia Seventy, and soon after began creating her own unique body of work.

Most of Judith's works are composed of found objects wrapped in yarn or other cords. She chose all her own materials, and in 18 years of work never repeated a color scheme or shape. The most common themes within her work are pairs, most likely relating to her life as a twin, and poles, which sometimes rise out of magnificent colorful lumps.

Her figures have been compared to cocoons or body parts. I find that their frenetic use of color recalls the static of a television screen, while the yarn that covers most of the composition gives an impression of softness to shapes that may otherwise seem rough and unfriendly.

Theres is a definite vision in Judith's diverse sculptural work. Each shape contains an embedded object which Judith found to be of some significance. The wrapping of these objects till they are invisible seems almost shamanistic, ritualized. The big, colorful forms that were created in this process may be impressions of isolation, or armor, or simply change. Maybe they are an expression of the artists desire to keep things safe, or contained.

Judith was never able to explain her work, but it's mystery only adds to it's expressive power.

Allow me to geek out for a moment...

It's time for another of these blog entries, and I've decided to give homage to another artist whose work has inspired me from the time I was young: Hayao Miyazaki. Well known as the writer and director of films such as Howl's Moving Castle, Spirited Away, and Princess Mononoke, Miyazaki's work may not seem to fall under the umbrella of "fine art." The success of his films, both in Japan and abroad has earned him comparisons to Walt Disney, whose success in producing family-friendly animation helped build an empire.

Despite these comparisons, Miyazaki's works display greater emotional and psychological depth than any Disney film. I have been impressed by Miyazaki's beatifully hand-drawn animation and painted scenery since my first exposure to his work, the film Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind. This film showed me that animation didn't have to be the "kid stuff" my parents so frequently complained about. It had everything: awesome scenery, epic adventure, environmentalism... and a strong female lead. That really caught my attention. Generally, females in film aren't very strong or leader-ly. They end up being dependent on the men to save them no matter how capable they seem, or the film is about their quest to "get the guy." This film didn't fall into either of these holes.

I was so impressed that I sought out the rest of Miyazaki's films, and I have not yet been disappointed by his work. From a literary perspective, the stories in his films are exceptional for the depth of feeling behind each characters actions. In most of his films, there is no "bad guy" whose purpose in the story is simply to be evil. The antagonists in his films are often ambiguous, revealing a moral grey area that the protagonist has to navigate. This is best illustrated in Spirited Away, which won the Academy Award for Best Animated Feature at the 75th Academy Awards. 

 Chihiro, the main character, encounters many scary beings during her time in the bath house of the spirits, but learns that not all of them are out to get her. Some of the scariest ones end up helping her in the end. Her adventures in the spirit world follow the classic coming-of-age model, as she learns to have confidence in herself and her actions. All these story details are well and good, but this is supposed to be an art blog! What about the art?? One characteristic of Miyazaki's films that appeals to me is his use of watercolors. Landscapes and environments are bright and beautifully painted. Equally impressive is Miyazaki's dedication to traditional hand-drawn animation. Since many of the most popular animated films of this era are completely computer-animated, it's heartening to me as a lover of beautiful animation to know that purists like Miyazaki can succeed and even thrive.

Roger Dean, Roger Dean!

What can I say about this guy? I first saw this Dean's work on the covers of my Dad's YES cds. His bright watercolor landscapes are entrancing. Often, I feel as though I could wander through them forever. As a kid raised on Star Wars, the fanciful sci-fi look of Dean's work holds a lot of appeal for me. 

This summer I picked up a book of his artwork (Magnetic Storm) at my local library in Tampa. I was surprised and delighted to discover that the man not only creates beautiful mixed media landscapes and fantastical stage sets for prog-rock shows, he is also a sometime-architect. According to his website, he is currently involved in a project to a create a sustainable living-style community based on his bubble-like, futuristic house designs.

 I'd love to live in a house like this! Only one problem - how do you get furniture to fit it? Most furniture is designed for square houses, they'd have to specially make things like bookcases to fit curved walls… not a problem for the artist!

Dean's capture of light is appealing to me because of it's crispness. I enjoy watercolor and mixed media myself, so I appreciate the difficulty of creating such defined shapes. His landscapes come alive because of his exceptional execution of dramatic lighting. I hope to someday be as effective at conveying epic landscapes.

Begin at the beginning

So for this blog, I am supposed to post images of artistic works or whatever media used to convey the art, then give a bit of an explanation. For the first entry, I choose an artist I have admired since I was very little.

Maurice Sendak. This artist died just a little while ago. His books were my favorites, probably because unlike most books for children, they are just a bit scary. Everything turns out alright in the end of course, but there are weird things going on throughout.

Sendak's books are notable because while they feature the usual protagonists of children's literature, the tone of the writing and the illustrations produce a darker undertone. The elements of magic and monsters (obvious or not) have shown up in my own art and writing time and again. There is also a sense of alone-ness, or the importance of making your own decisions that recurrs in all of Sendak's stories. I believe that Sendak's magical illustrations and the feeling of safety and assurance he creates while still populating his worlds with fantastic and sometimes fearsome creatures drew me to this subject matter in my own work.

Here is an interview with Sendak where he explains a little bit of his philosophies and inspiration.
NOW interview