The state of Alabama, home to all 31 of the artists profiled here (as well as native-son-superstar Howard Finster), seems to abound in the kind of environments where sculpture gardens grow out of scrapyards and objet trouvé assemblage is commonplace “tinkering with junk.” Defined not only by their innovative use of humbler materials (at least two of the artists featured use mud as a primary ingredient of their compositions), these artists also thematically cluster around such concerns as formalist/idiosyncratic Christianity, hard times, patriotism, moral compulsion, childhood memories and civil rights. Many also share a whimsical, punning sense of humor light-years removed from irony.
More surprising are the parallels that characterize the evolution of each as an Outsider artist. The archetypal outsider bio would be as follows: early inclinations to isolation and introspection; the subject exhibited artistic talent which lay dormant for years; some misfortune occurred in later life—the artist was laid off, laid up or forced into retirement; the misfortune was often associated with religious epiphany, and was nearly always the reason for the individual turning to art; and the artist often borrowed materials from a previously practiced trade. While many of these profiles share a sort of gentle tragedy, some details seem to spring directly from the grotesque and brutal Southern Gothic of Faulkner or Flannery O’Connor. Memorable among these is Myrtice West’s religious blackout after which she awakened to find herself issuing apocalyptic warnings from the pulpit of an unfamiliar church, as well as her premonitions of her daughter’s murder in her presence at the hands of her son-in-law. Most fascinating, and certainly darkest of all, is the history of Juanita Rogers, whose humanoid animals sculpted from cow bones and mud in a one-room shack were created, she says, “for crippled people, crazy people, and colored people all over the world,” and who reports being brought to her current home on a “carnival train” from a place “where black mud swallows up the cars.” To their credit, the authors’ treatment never strays far from the straightforward tone of backyard conversation. Rev. Ben Perkins on his philosophy of art: “People love the American flag. If you can get a church and a flag both on a thing, and you’re not too high, then somebody’ll buy it.”
RA
Publisher: Unknown
Hardback: 224 pages
Illustrated