Outsider art reminds us that creativity is a birthright, not a career path.
The images below echo the spirit of outsider artists such as Adolf Wölfli, Judith Scott, and Howard Finster. They are illustrative rather than attributable, and sourced from free-to-use image libraries.
(by Annabel, Membership Secretary, FLAG)
Coined by artist Jean Dubuffet in the 1940s, art brut literally means “raw art.” It described work made by people in asylums, prisons, or complete obscurity; people who probably didn’t even know they were making “art” at all. They were just doing it. Creating something, anything, almost compulsively, obsessively. Sometimes with bottle caps. Sometimes with human hair. Sometimes with a thousand biro pens and a dream, or gluing matchsticks to a life-size papier-mâché giraffe in a garden shed in Norfolk. In other words: outsider art in its purest form.
In a world where everything is curated, filtered, and optimised for engagement, outsider art is gloriously resistant to polish. It’s the antidote to art speak and the enemy of cool. It’s where sincerity still lives, sometimes in the form of an intricately carved wooden toaster that doubles as a shrine to a lost cat. And frankly, that’s beautiful.
Because maybe art doesn’t need to be clever. Or commercially viable. Or made in a Hackney studio with exposed brick and oat milk flat whites on tap. Maybe it just needs to be.
There’s something else, too, outsider art doesn’t ask for permission. It doesn’t wait for validation, or a degree show, or a panel of tutors with clipboards and careful language. It emerges fully formed from the need to make, not the need to be seen, and that feels increasingly rare.
I sometimes think my daughter, who has a wonderful Fine Art degree, may have struggled with her tutors because, although none of us saw it at the time, what she was making might have been outsider art. Someone who carefully collects their own eyelashes and eyebrows, then uses them to create a tiny, painstaking self-portrait, well that’s not just creative, it’s deeply personal. There was such quiet intensity in it, such focus, and not the faintest concern for whether it fit into anyone else’s idea of what art should be. Looking back, it makes perfect sense.
Giving people a title for what they do helps define them to others. Apparently, outsider art is now the height of fashion. Museums are mounting major exhibitions, and I believe collectors are shelling out serious money. Auction houses are whispering reverently over cracked canvases painted by people who didn’t even know what acrylics were. The once-marginalised is now curated, institutionalised, and Instagrammed.
And that’s where it gets a bit murky.
Is it still outsider art when it’s hanging next to a David Hockney? Is it still rebellious, or couldn’t-care-less when it’s being endorsed by the very establishment it once sat outside of? Can something be both raw and reframed, instinctive and institutionalised? I’m not entirely sure. It feels a bit like trying to bottle something that was never meant to be contained.
Here are a few outsider artists, if you’re curious:
- Henry Darger – Chicago janitor by day, creator of a 15,000-page fantasy epic by night. His world: part Victorian fairytale, part fever dream, part “should we be worried?”
- Judith Scott – Deaf, with Down syndrome, and institutionalised for decades, she made intricate cocoon-like sculptures from yarn and found objects.
- Madge Gill – A spiritualist who produced thousands of drawings, often guided (she claimed) by a spirit named Myrninerest. As you do.
- Howard Finster – A Baptist preacher who built his own garden museum filled with visions of Elvis, God, and aliens. Pretty standard, really.
Outsider art is what happens when you remove the polite conversation and gallery lighting from creativity. It’s what’s left when nobody is watching or when nobody is expected to.
And maybe that’s the point. Not everything needs to belong. Some things just need to exist. I'm off to do that which I can't stop doing and which no one will see!
(All images courtesy of copyright free platforms: Unsplash, Pexels, Wiki Commons


























