This transcendent Baltimore museum features works – and quirks – of art
TILED IN STYLE: Mosaics on the exterior of the American Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore were created by incarcerated and formerly incarcerated young people.
Melanie Stetson Freeman/Staff
Baltimore
At the Louvre, you’ll find Leonardo da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa.” At the Art Institute of Chicago, you’ll see Georges Seurat’s “A Sunday on La Grande Jatte – 1884.” And at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, you can see Mary Cassatt’s “Lilacs in a Window.”
But you won’t find a 15-foot-tall, amphibious, all-terrain, pink poodle kinetic sculpture named Fifi. For that, you need to go to the American Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore.
On its website, AVAM describes its quirky niche as highlighting “self-taught individuals ... whose works arise from an innate personal vision that revels foremost in the creative act itself.”
Why We Wrote This
The American Visionary Art Museum showcases the full range of human experience, from the tragic to the goofy. Self-taught artists created many of the pieces on display.
“I have an art degree, but I think we overthink things, trying to produce things that have meaning behind every single stroke,” says Ellen Owens, the director of AVAM. “I truly believe that people need this stuff [art] to thrive. Being creative and being artistic doesn’t have to be boring or quiet. It can be exciting, joyful, and silly.”
If it’s silliness you’re after, it’s hard to beat “Fifi.” Designed by Theresa Segreti, AVAM’s now-retired director for the museum’s annual Baltimore Kinetic Sculpture Race, “Fifi” is a crowd favorite. This year’s 15-mile race, held on May 2, was a “race of artful contraptions” built to travel over land, water, sand, and mud. Its goal is to show kids what adult fun looks like.
But, as novelist Meera Syal reminds us, “Life isn’t all ha ha hee hee.” One of AVAM’s current exhibits is “Esther and the Dream of One Loving Human Family.” Through a series of 36 hand-embroidered tapestries, Esther Krinitz portrays how she and her younger sister survived the Nazi invasion of Poland by breaking away from their Jewish parents and siblings on the road to an extermination camp and posing as Polish Catholic farm girls.
In the same room, you’ll find “The Strength To Be Joyful,” a series of painted pieces by self-taught artist Mary Proctor. Raised by her grandmother in rural Florida, Ms. Proctor struggled with depression after a fire claimed her grandmother’s life. The one thing that gave Ms. Proctor joy, hope, and meaning was an impulse to gather salvaged materials and raw feelings and experiences and to make art from them. On one painting, Ms. Proctor wrote, “I refuse to let hate live in my garden. Love help me grow.”
“When I think of Mary Proctor and Esther Krinitz,” Ms. Owens says, “both are incredibly skillful artists, but there is something childlike about their imagery. It allows us to process this incredibly difficult part of history” – the Holocaust for Ms. Krinitz, and America’s Jim Crow laws for Ms. Proctor.
AVAM gives people an opportunity to see the full range of human experience, Ms. Owens says, from the tragic to the transcendent, all told through the personal visual narratives of artists.
“This is not a quiet, churchlike place. It is a place for lively dialogue or laughing at our quirks.” ■