Inside Bernard Gilardi’s “Outsider Art”

Written by Madeline Holton

Edited by Alicia Wilson

Figure 1: Bernard Gilardi, WIS-CON-SIN. 1995. Oil on masonite, 22 x 24 in. Portrait Society Gallery. Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Attraction to the idea of the “Outsider artist” has grown among art institutions, scholars and collectors in recent years [1]. As the art world becomes increasingly market-driven, the existence of an untrained artist, unconcerned with recognition and profit, has become undeniably appealing. With the recent discovery of artist Bernard Gilardi’s almost 400 works, created in the basement of his home in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Gilardi has been launched into the unrefined, eccentric lineage of the Outsider artist. However, both the term and concept of the Outsider artist have been problematic since their formulation, often representing a romanticization of the artist’s separation from mainstream artist practices due to class, race, age, or mental illness. The initial reception of Gilardi’s work, following his inaugural exhibition, has largely fallen into the clichés associated with Outsider artists. However, using a social history of art and drawing from iconography, a more nuanced portrait of Gilardi and his work emerges, one that emphasizes his agency, influences, and development, rather than his “outsider” status. 

The term “Outsider Art” was coined by art historian Roger Cardinal in 1972, and parallels artist Jean Dubuffet’s idea of “Art Brut,” [2]. Dubuffet’s fascination with amateur art, often created by those on the margins of society such as prisoners or psychiatric hospital patients, was inspired by a desire to find art that was “untouched” by culture [3]. By collecting and writing about this “raw” form of art in the mid-1940s, Dubuffet set the precedent for the field of Outsider Art. The study and collection of work outside the mainstream also intersects with the realm of folk art, as both fields expect that their participants have no formal artist training. However, unlike Folk Art, Outsider Art has been considered separate from “community traditions or collective aesthetics,” [4]. Consequently, to be classified as an “outsider” an artist must not only be untrained, but must be entirely unconcerned with both contemporary and historical styles, as well as market success. Further, the identity as an Outsider artist is usually solidified by any one of the following characteristics: mental illness, antisocial behavior, use of unusual art materials, deep spirituality, tragic biographical events, residence in a rural area, and most often, “obsessive” creativity in the form of prolific production. In short, the biography of the artist must in some way separate them from their contemporary culture [5]. Outsider Art is therefore not defined by a distinctive style or medium, but by the idiosyncratic characteristics of its producers. 

This focus on the artist’s biography is both limiting and problematic for the artists that fall into the category “outsider.” The work of these artists must be delineated as separate from mainstream culture in order for middle- and upper-class society to be able to view amatuer art as “a return to values more closely associated with the natural world, away from pretentious contemporary societal and historical art concerns,” [6]. Outsider Art therefore remains the final art practice for which scholars and critics can justify ignoring the social context of its production, as it is expected to be entirely separated from social or cultural concerns. It is in this way that the artistic, personal, or societal influences of those considered to be making Outsider Art are erased, in order to maintain the “purity” of their work in contrast to corrupted modern life [7].  Outsider Art thus takes on the conception of being permanently in the past, even if its members are currently practicing [8]. The myth that these artists are without influences or inspirations coincides with the idea of the Outsider artist as an obsessive creator. Due to their perceived lack of outside impact on their art and absence of monetary incentive, it has become a common notion that these makers are driven by an invisible force, often imagined as madness [9]. This attribution of the prolific nature of many Outsider artist’s production to a form of mania further denies the need to view their work critically as it deems them to be the creations of madmen. 

The erasure of possible social criticism or cultural observation made by these artists is highlighted by Lucy Lippard’s argument that Outsider artists’ critical deviation is actually a  “perceived but unacknowledged class difference,” [10]. Lippard calls attention to the fact that the art of perceived “outsiders” often features potent social critiques based on first-hand experience that is devalued by the notion of Outsider Art as a bizarre anomaly. Therefore the elite audience that has developed a fascination for this “unusual” art is able to both romanticize and mute lower-class artists that practice without formal art education.

Bernard Gilardi’s fit to the term Outsider artist is not perfect, as Gilardi has some formal art training, yet he meets the two other primary criteria: lack of market recognition for his work during his lifetime, and lower-class status. Additionally, Gilardi was tireless in the creation of his work, which typically features subjects of sexuality, religion, and race, cementing his place in the realm of Outsider Art. Gilardi’s work is characterized by vibrant colors, expressive (often nude) figures and fantastical settings. Unsurprisingly, all recent reviews of Gilardi’s work following the retrospective of his work at Shine Gallery in New York introduce his work as “Outsider Art,” followed by adjectives like “strange,” “disturbing,” and “singular.” One review in Hyperallergic asserts the artist’s insulation by saying “Gilardi’s work isn’t fully able to be placed within other well-known art-historical trends,” [11]. Another review in Artsy paints Gilardi’s day-to-day life as completely at odds with his eccentric art practice. The writer offers no way to reconcile the difference but rather emphasizes the difference between his mundane daily activities and painting practice where his “feverish, unleashed imagination” can be seen [12]. The conception of Gilardi’s artistry as “feverish,” and the complete demarcation of his personal life or social experiences from his artistic practice reinforces the idea of the Outsider Artist as out of their own time, and driven by madness rather than message. Gilardi’s work deserves a critical interpretation that takes into account his life experiences, social concerns, and artistic influences that together produce a personal iconography. 

This critical interpretation must first be grounded in biographical information about Gilardi that does not solely focus on his insularity or abnormality. Gilardi was born 1920 in Solon Springs, Wisconsin, the ninth of eleven children. His family recalls that Gilardi wanted to be an artist from a young age; his senior high school yearbook was even signed by a friend saying, “Hope you become a darn good artist,” [13]. Unfortunately, due to his family's economic situation college was not an option for Gilardi, and at eighteen he joined the Civilian Conservation Corps. In 1940 he was able to enroll in classes at University of Wisconsin-Madison for Art Education, yet he was forced to leave after one semester due to financial reasons. After a year of working at a paper mill for 50 cents an hour, Gilardi enlisted in the Army Air Corps and became a radio operator in North Africa and Southern Europe. According to Gilardi’s daughter, Dee Kuech, “traveling during the war, seeing exotic places and meeting all types of people made a strong impression on him,” [14].

After the war Gilardi began an apprenticeship at a lithograph company and was soon married with two daughters. From 1948 onward he worked at various printing companies as a dot etcher. His profession has been credited as the reason for his intense color use and precise detail in his painting [15]. In 1957, Gilardi and his family moved to a house in Milwaukee where he set up his first home studio and began to paint in his free time. While working full time and raising a family, often in the face of economic instability, remarkably, Gilardi was able to keep up an extremely consistent art practice. This is not to suggest that some unseen phenomenon compelled Gilardi to work incessantly in the face of distraction, but that Gilardi pursued art because it helped him to make sense of, and find joy in the world around him. Outsider artists are often denied the understanding of their work as developed from their experience, and rather seen as having appeared fully formed without regard to contemporary art styles or forethought about subject matter. Gilardi’s work is no exception, with his source material thought to have “lurked in the hidden corners of his own brain,” [16] rather than come from concrete experiences and critical thought. 

Debra Brehmer, director of Milwaukee’s Portrait Society Gallery where Gilardi’s work was first displayed and who now oversees the artist’s estate, asserts that the artist’s “vocation and style did not emerge from thin air.” Brehmer explained in an interview that of Gilardi’s existing work, “Nearly every painting has a small sketch done on an old envelope or some piece of used paper,” [17]. Further, many Outsider artists are celebrated for being unaware of contemporary art styles, allowing their work to remain “pure.” Yet Gilardi frequently attended art shows and fairs and even taped newspaper stories about exhibitions or artists to his studio walls [18]. Brehemer similarly avoids classifying Gilardi’s work as Outsider Art but rather connects him to contemporary art styles of the Midwest like Chicago Imagist and Magic Realist movements, thereby positioning him within art history, rather than outside it [19]. 

Using Gilardi’s painting WIS-CON-SIN (Fig. 1) as a primary point of analysis I will elucidate the personal and socially conscious elements of Gilardi’s work. In doing so, I will  challenge the conception of his work as “outside” culture. Gilardi’s WIS-CON-SIN, depicts three figures.  From left to right: a figure that is read as a man, wearing rings, earrings and gold nail polish, two figures that can be read as women, one black and one white; each of them with a fragment of WIS-CON-SIN written on their chest. The figures engage in cheerful conversation and are accompanied by a cheese plate and wine, with an idyllic Midwestern landscape behind them. The picturesque farmland fulfills an expectation of the ideal rural scenery associated with the state, while the figures defy the racial segregation and strict gender roles often associated with rural areas. This unexpected scene is not a fantastic utopia, but likely an amalgamation of social issues, and their solutions, that the artist encountered in his day-to-day life. 

Within his personal life, Gilardi was close with his brother Ray’s lifelong partner, Dick Perry, who was also an artist. Many of Gilardi’s paintings seem to affirm that the artist had no issue with queerness or breaking from male gender norms [20]. In the context of this biographical information, it is far from abnormal for Gilardi to feature a male figure that does not conform to traditional male ideals in his representation of his home state. This figure is not implanted into Gilardi’s reality from a mythical “Eden” but is homegrown from his own community.

Racial diversity is also a typical feature of Gilardi’s work, often colored by humor rather than discomfort [21]. Wisconsin’s history of institutionalized racism is no secret, and Milwaukee remains one of the most racially segregated cities in America to this day [22]. Gilardi was aware of the civil rights protests in Milwaukee in the 1960s and personally knew Catholic priest and civil rights activist, Father James Groppi. His family even remembers Gilardi making a portrait of Groppi, but the painting has not been found [23]. Following logically from this information, Gilardi’s inclusion of a racially diverse trio in WIS-CON-SIN can be seen as understanding, and even advocating for the resolution of, contemporary social issues. 

The image has a sense of decadence, with each figure clad in jewelry, enjoying a delicate presentation of the region’s quintessential dairy product. The juxtaposition of the figures’ elegance with the farmland, typically considered to be an unrefined space, indicates Gilardi’s awareness, and navigation of the stereotypes surrounding his class status. Debra Brehmer has said of Gilardi’s depictions of Wisconsin farmland:

 I get the feeling that he liked to call out hypocrisy and/or false assumptions… His version of farms is exaggerated and the people are just as diverse and weird as anywhere. Humanity, to Gilardi, seemed like a giant parade of strangeness that he cast in a loving/humorous manner [24].

The ease and joy that is evident among the figures in WIS-CON-SIN gives a picture of Gilardi’s comfort with the subject matter, and personal pride in the landscape. 

Gilardi’s awareness and personal connection to relevant contemporary social and cultural issues puts him at odds with the term Outsider Art. Far from being “untouched” by culture, Gilardi developed a set of personal iconography derived from his life that includes repeated motifs of racial diversity, gender nonconformity and blurring of class divisions. This is especially evident in his painting WIS-CON-SIN. The artist’s oeuvre was intentionally socially critical, rather than simply otherworldly, or bizarre. Although Gilardi’s work has only recently become available to the public, it is essential to challenge the notion of his work as “Outsider Art” in this early stage to ensure his art receives the critical analysis it deserves. For Gilardi’s work to enter the art historical realm as simply “Outsider” may serve to erase the cultural relevance of his subjects, simply because of his class. Gilardi's removal from mainstream art is an illusion that perpetuates the romanticization of his work over critical engagement with its content. Yet, with influences from his profession and community, Gilardi's work is already a product of culture and his work will undoubtedly go on to inspire future artists. 

Endnotes

1.  Daniel Wojcik, “Outsider Art, Vernacular Traditions, Trauma, and Creativity,” Western Folklore 67, no. 2/3 (2008):  179.

2.  Wojcik, “Outsider Art,” 179. 

3. Colin Rhodes, Outsider Art: Spontaneous Alternatives (New York, N.Y.: Thames & Hudson, 2000), 31.

4.  Wojcik, “Outsider Art,” 179. 

5. David Maclagan, Outsider Art: From The Margins to the Marketplace, (London: Reaktion Books, Limited, 2010), 11.

6.  Dyani Reynolds-White Hawk. "Unexpected Parallels: Commonalities between Native American and Outsider Arts." Wicazo Sa Review 27, no. 1 (2012): 50.

7. Wojcik, “Outsider Art,” 180. 

8. Gary Alan Fine, Everyday Genius: Self-Taught Art and the Culture of Authenticity, (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2004), 4.

9. Maclagan, Outsider Art, 58.  

10. Lucy R. Lippard, “Crossing into Uncommon Grounds,” in The Artist Outsider: Creativity and the Boundaries of Culture, ed. Michael Hall, E. W Metcalf, and Roger Cardinal (Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1994), 5. 

11.  Julia Friedman, “The Disturbing Yet Hopeful Paintings of an Outsider Artist,” Hyperallergic, March 15, 2019. https://hyperallergic.com/489232/the-disturbing-yet-hopeful-paintings-of-an-outsider-artist/

12. Scott Indrisek, “The Strange, Singular Vision of Milwaukee Outsider Artist Bernard Gilardi,” Artsy, Mar 8, 2019. https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-strange-singular-vision-milwaukee-outsider-artist-bernard-gilardi

13.  Debra Brehmer, “Bernard Gilardi: Four Decades” (Milwaukee: Portrait Society Gallery, 2011), 2. 

14. Brehmer, “Bernard Gilardi,” 2. 

15.  Brehmer, “Bernard Gilardi,” 3. 

16. Indrisek, “Strange.”

17. Debra Brehmer, interview by author, March 17, 2019.

18. Brehmer, “Bernard Gilardi,” 2. 

19. Debra Brehmer, interview by author, March 17, 2019.

20.  Brehmer, “Bernard Gilardi,” 4. See: Gilardi’s work Untitled (cross-dressing family), 1994. 

21. Gilardi has three separate paintings of a white and black foot interwinted, seemingly a lighthearted take on racial equality.

22.  William H. Frey, “Black-white segregation edges downward since 2000, census shows,” Brookings, December 17, 2018. https://www.brookings.edu/blog/the-avenue/2018/12/17/black-white-segregation-edges-downward-since-2000-census-shows/

23. Brehmer, “Bernard Gilardi,” 4.

24. Debra Brehmer, interview by author, March 17, 2019.