James, Andra, Martin, Jeffrey, Denise and Sabra creating their own visionary works of art with instruction from staff member Stanley Agbontaen.
For our wedding anniversary, I persuaded my hubby to take me to The American Visionary Art Museum in Baltimore. I heard it was cool and different, and it definitely was both! I can’t say I had a favorite exhibit. I loved some and was baffled by others. But what I appreciated about all of them was that the artists’ stories accompanied their work. They were compelling in so many ways. In them, art was a journey of creative expression, healing, journalism, patience, resourcefulness, and redemption.
Posing with a scuplture at The American Visionary Art Museum
Esther Krinitz’s embroidered scenes of surviving the Holocaust find joy in the juxtaposition of everyday life and the horror of occupying forces. Debbie and Mike Schramer’s whimsical, multi-story fairy treehouses of natural objects (moss, bark, seeds, pods, dried flowers, etc.) reminded me of my daughter’s pre-school fairy gardens she made from store-bought moss and silk flowers. She loved creating them. Studying all the fairy-sized rooms crafted by the Schramers brought on a wistfulness because my little girl is leaving for college this month and a part of me wants to make fairy gardens with her again.
There were human forms and clothing decorated with a whole lot of sparkly stuff, feathers, shells, buttons–I can’t even remember all the repurposed objects the sculptor turned into striking embellishments. I wanted to go home and try something myself with that can of buttons sitting above the sewing machine I rarely use. Frank Bruno’s apocalyptic paintings illuminating Biblical end times prophecy I could understand although I really had to study them for the message of the accompanying Bible verse tacked on the wall beside each painting.
On the other hand, how does someone decide to devote their lives to building model ships from toothpicks or sculpting heads and game boards from burnt and dyed wooden matchsticks? Why take the time to string beer bottle caps with beads to hang along the handrails?
I believe the answer is the same for all of the creators of the exhibits and perhaps even for the curator. These different creations satisfy intangible soul hunger that nothing else does in the same way. Our need to get out of us that which threatens to destroy us. Our need to have someone understand us. Our need to inspire others to always reach beyond the known and create a new kind of knowing. Our longing for immortality. Our love for beauty, our shock at horror, and our quest to find meaning in both. And just plain fun, like telling a good joke.
All these works were interpretations of stories, others’ and the artists’. And for folks like me, who love words, quotes from many famous people filled the walls, the stairways and alcoves with their views on what storytelling is and why we do it.
Here is one of my favorites:
“Why does anybody tell a story? It does indeed have something to do with faith. Faith that the universe has meaning, that our little human lives are not irrelevant, that what we choose or say or do matters, matters cosmically.”
– Madeleine L’Engle (1918 – 2007)
The other thing that struck me is how brave these artists are. Are you wondering what this has to do with people with intellectual and developmental disabilities? I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now. We all have stories that need to be told, that some are craving to tell. We need to look for places and ways to tell them. We need to help others who struggle to do so. Museums are optional. We can tell our stories everywhere. Let’s be brave, together.
I love these! Can’t wait for the next class.
