From the Outside In? The Museum of Everything

Outsider art, coined in 1972 by critic Roger Cardinal, refers to the work undertaken by untaught or self-taught artists. ‘Art Brut’ or ‘Raw Art,’ a phrase coined by Jean Dubuffet, is usually outside the sphere of the commercial or ‘official’ art world, giving us a glimpse of stories and narratives that we would otherwise have no access to. The Museum of Everything, founded by James Brett, is located in a converted dairy and recording studio offering us a quiet, quirky refuge outside of the bustling streets of North West London. It seems ironic, that such a gallery should exist, after all, outsider art is characterised by its ‘segregation from the mainstream,’ with much of the work itself being disregarded by its creator, never intended to be seen as art.

On entering the building, there is a sense of incompleteness; bare walls and creaky floors. But this simply adds to the character; making the art very accessible. A labyrinth of corridors and rooms each offer us a different but equally surreal experience. Raw stories and narratives, never intended to be heard, echo around the walls.

The first room we enter holds the work of Nek Chand, an Indian self-taught artist, famous for creating the Rock Garden of Chandigarh. Here, almost like a nativity scene, figures stare down at us from both sides of the corridor. Chand has successfully made objects that were already in existence into something dreamlike; another world, into which we can peer. This unintended transformation of practical, functional objects to objects of aesthetic pleasure is a common feature here. Emery Blagdon’s machines of healing, formerly with a purpose other than aesthetic pleasure, take an intricate sculptural form, looking out from behind glass windows.

Then of course, most associated with outsider art, are the works by the mentally unstable, psychotic or incarcerated. Louis Wain’s cats; progressively becoming more and more distorted and colourful as his mental state deteriorated and the work of Karl Josef Radler, who was told at the age of fifty that he was a danger to his family. Diagnosed with schizophrenia, his incarceration allowed him time to paint, offering him a therapeutic relief.

All the corridors lead to the centre of the exhibition; a tall, spacious room with paintings cluttering every wall. The design of this room reflects the characteristics of the art it displays. Paintings of mismatched sizes hang together, covering the great expanse of wall, constructing a collage of this child-like world. This jumbled way of displaying the art catches us asking the question – what is it that these artists fear about empty space, about the existence of nothing? It is overwhelming, almost, to be completely surrounded by these raw, personal truths.

These artists create obsessively; it is a compulsion for them, a way in which they are able to communicate. James Castle’s work becomes all the more interesting, once we note that he never learned any language. His chosen communication was through the silent medium of his work. Madge Gill’s pen doodles of women seem to have stepped out of another era, evidence of her communication with a spiritual world and her spirit guide, Myrninerest.

Arnulf Rainer, writing about some of the artworks in the exhibition, claims that this is a place where childhood and adulthood have collided. It becomes apparent that to many of these ‘artists,’ their work is relief, therapy and ritual. They obsessively cover canvases and fill gaps with the most intricate of patterns. Empty space to them is a daunting thing, and this exhibition, in its character and curation, conveys this compulsion, quirkiness, other-worldliness and intricate obsessive detail sublimely.

But now, the glaringly obvious question remains: is it still outsider art, even now that it has been brought ‘inside’? These artists do not fit into categories, and they cannot be compared to their contemporaries. This art is captivating because it was not made to be seen; it is untarnished by trends and fashions. It tells the truth, regardless of whether the truth is pleasing or not. And it is this truth that really makes this exhibition compelling and distinct. It really is another world within our own.