Looking back on July, we at Studio Gallery wanted to honor the month’s status as Disability Pride Month and celebrate the 30th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act by highlighting some talented artists with disabilities. These artists all have different experiences and methodologies, but all of them made an impact on the art world. They all navigate their identities in different ways through their works; some choose to discuss their experiences with disability through artistic self-reflection or activism, some choose to express themselves through more abstract concepts and share their unique interpretations of the world around them. Overall, these artists share a steadfast talent and powerful creative energy that reminds us that vision exists regardless of ability, education, or background, and must be fostered in all artists to create a more colorful and welcoming art world.

Overview

A Disability Pride Parade in New York City, date unknown, from disabilitypridenyc.org

Disability Pride Month started in July, 1990 with the enactment of the Americans with Disabilities Act, which works to prohibit discrimination of citizens with disabilities in all aspects of society, including work, education, transportation, public space, and more. The first Disability Pride Parade was held in Boston that same year in celebration. The ADA symbolizes a commitment to equity and accessibility, one that people of all abilities can strive for. However, there is always more work to be done; people with disabilities continue to face discrimination. Oftentimes individuals with disabilities are confined to performing entry-level jobs with little upward mobility, and are assumed to only be capable of menial tasks. Oftentimes artists with disabilities are left out of the art world, as they are rendered invisible by prejudice and elitism. Ableist structures still exist in the art world despite the fact that some of the most famous artists of the Western canon, including Michelangelo, Francisco Goya, and Vincent van Gogh, are historically perceived as having disabilities. These artists’ experiences with disabilities are often erased in history books due to ableist notions of quality and capability. Furthermore, many artists’ struggles with mental illness are often overly romanticized as sources of creative inspiration, while the nuances of their identities as individuals with disabilities are ignored.

The 2020 Outsider Art Fair in NYC, from their website

The establishment of Outsider Art as a genre created many opportunities for artists with disabilities, but also raised questions of exploitation and fetishization, as well as the inherent othering of the term. The term ‘Outsider Art,’ originated with French artist Jean DuBuffet, who amassed a collection of ‘Art Brut,’ which translates to ‘raw art.’ DuBuffet collected works from psychiatric patients, spiritualists, and other self-taught artists, and his efforts later inspired British writer Robert Cardinal to coin the term ‘Outsider Art’ to describe the work of self-taught artists who were often marginalized. The acknowledgement of Outsider Art began to grow as collectors took an interest in these works, and the categories of folk art and indigenous art became intertwined with Outsider Art as well. Works by self-taught artists were newly legitimized in the art world, but were often falsely labelled as ‘primitive’ and simply used as inspiration for well-known contemporary artists. Many established artists envied, and almost fetishized, the way Outsider artists employed their natural creativity without artistic input from others, but often ignored the reality of these artists’ experiences as marginalized people. The genre of Outsider Art made space for many artists with disabilities in the art world, and many self-taught artists today have adopted the term as an empowering label. In some ways, still, the category still barred artists with disabilities from breaking into the mainstream by othering them. The chronic need to establish categories and subcategories in the contemporary art world arguably stems from those who still uphold the Western canon as the gold standard for what constitutes ‘good art.’ However, as the following artists prove, true artistic vision has little to do with technique, acclaim, or social standing. Rather, vision stems from a profound connection to the self and to the outside world; from one’s lived experience and the ability to translate it into meaningful work.

The following list of six artists is by no means comprehensive or hierarchical; it is simply a jumping off point for further research into the role of artists with disabilities in the art world. These artists are from different places around the world, have different educational backgrounds, and worked in different time periods. None of their stories are representative of all artists with disabilities; it is imperative to perceive each profile as fully individual in order to respect the full spectrum of experience. It is also worth noting that none of these artists self-identify as ‘Outsider Artists,’ as many of them have had a formal art education, but some of them have had the term ascribed to their work nonetheless.

Six Artists with Disabilities You Should Know (but you should know more than six, and you probably already do!)

Judith Scott (1943-2005)

Judith Scott, Untitled, 2004, photo courtesy of artnews.com — Judith Scott, *Untitled,* 2004, photo courtesy of artnews.com

Judith Scott with one of her works. Photo courtesy of the American Visionary Arts Museum

Judith Scott, a contemporary textile artist, was born in 1943 in Ohio. She did not start creating till the late ‘80s, due to being institutionalized for most of her childhood and much of her adult life for her Down’s Syndrome and deafness. In 1986, Scott’s sister enrolled her in Oakland’s Creative Growth Art Center, a program that provides studio and gallery space to aspiring artists living with disabilities. One of the first of its kind, Creative Growth Art Center paved the way for many more arts spaces dedicated to uplifting artists with disabilities. Initially rejecting traditional painting and drawing mediums, Scott discovered her innate talent for textile art after attending a workshop run by the center. From there she began to work tirelessly, creating fascinating amalgamated sculptures constructed by painstakingly wrapping objects with vibrantly colored string. She had her first solo exhibition in 1999, and since then has attained international acclaim. Though Scott was not able to speak or hear, her artwork worked through her to communicate her vision and interpretation of her surroundings. Scott’s work strongly evokes a cocoon or a spider’s web concealing its contents for protective purposes. The dense wrapping of the objects conveys the level of precise handiwork typical of craft art objects, although the haphazardness of the string placement is the product of a more expressive, fluid process. Despite its mystery, the work’s bright colors lend a strength and whimsy to the work. By wrapping her objects completely, Scott has reduced the assemblage to a series of forms, bypassing the relationships between objects to create one structural conglomerate. Her works stand out for their evocative and abstract use of craft materials. Today, Scott’s work can be seen in contemporary art museums around the world.

Stephen Wiltshire (1974-)

Wiltshire drawing, courtesy of allthatsinteresting.com

Stephen Wiltshire’s story is a thoroughly triumphant account of a young prodigy who captured the attention of an entire nation through his staggering talent, then went on to receive international acclaim through his fascinating artistic process. Wiltshire’s claim to fame is his large-scale pen drawings of cityscapes, which he primarily completes from memory after only viewing scenes for a short time. His drawings contain a dizzying accuracy, while also capturing the character of each city he portrays. The scale and sprawl of these drawings are compelling, but what is even more enticing is the individual detail of each building; every single window, door, and spire is rendered with the same care. Born in London, Wiltshire was diagnosed with autism at the age of three, and was non-verbal until the age of nine. For those six years he primarily communicated through his uncannily accurate drawings, capturing the world around him with a careful, whimsical eye. Wiltshire received support for his art throughout his schooling, and was encouraged to enter many children’s art contests. He won so many of these competitions that the press started to take notice. Wiltshire rose to fame at 8 years old when he was commissioned by the British Prime Minister to draw the Salisbury Cathedral. His artistic career skyrocketed from there; he attended university at the prestigious City and Guilds Art College, and began to travel the world to expand his repertoire of giant cityscapes. A common methodology developed for Wiltshire: he would be taken on a brief helicopter tour of the city, and then go on to capture the massive expanses entirely from memory. Wiltshire has published multiple books of his art, earned a title of Member of the British Empire in 2006, and opened his own gallery that same year.

Stephen Wiltshire, large-scale drawing of Manhattan, courtesy of huffpost.com

Frida Kahlo (1907-1954)

The Broken Column (1944), courtesy of kahlo.org — *The Broken Column* (1944), courtesy of kahlo.org

These days, Frida Kahlo is perceived as one of art history’s most famous artists. Her iconic features, like her powerful unibrow and beautiful flowers in her hair, seem to show up everywhere on t-shirts, tote bags, and posters. However, key aspects of her identity are often sanitized by public perception of her life and career. Oftentimes media will focus on Kahlo’s tumultuous relationships, or simply uphold her as a woman painter, ignoring the nuances of her experience as a queer woman of color who lived with a disability, and who deftly infused her experiences into her incisive self-portraits. Writer TK Smith observes, “Though her love life lends itself perfectly to dramatization onstage, arguably the most impactful relationship on Frida Kahlo’s art was the one she had with her body.” Some researchers believe Kahlo was born with spina bifida. She was then stricken with polio at a young age, and was left unable to walk by a horrific bus accident at the age of 18. Notably, Kahlo’s experience being bedridden while she healed from the accident was what inspired her to start painting, as well as exploring her relationship with her body. Kahlo’s unflinching gaze stares out at the viewer in most of her paintings, reflecting the unwavering spotlight she used to observe herself. Her paintings delve into her experience with disability with a fierce honesty. In The Broken Column (1944), Kahlo intertwines the literal representation of the corset she wore after spinal surgery with a metaphorical representation of her beleaguered spine in the form of the column. Kahlo stands strong and proud, silent tears running down her face as her spine crumbles within her. The nails that pierce her from all sides represent the pain she feels, while also symbolizing the necessary procedures holding her together. The combination of strength and vulnerability in this painting is breathtaking; her outward gaze symbolizes a confrontation with the viewer as well as a confrontation with herself. Kahlo skillfully centers themes of pain and discomfort in paintings like Without Hope (1945), where she portrays herself being force-fed a gruesome mixture of food to symbolize the concoctions she was forced to ingest to combat malnutrition after an illness. Kahlo’s despair is evident; the writhing mass that hovers above her is terrifying, and her isolation, symbolized by the desert setting, is clear. However, she still manages to establish a connection with the outside world, gazing out of the painting even as she suffers, challenging the viewer to fully witness her experience. Looking at these paintings is difficult, but it is essential not to look away. Kahlo does not sanitize any aspects of her experience with disability; she digs into the horror of her bodily trauma, acknowledging the despair and suffering that come with it, while maintaining her dignity and strength. Frida Kahlo’s works force the viewer to acknowledge all aspects of herself; her strength, her pain, her fluid identity, her radical politics, and her disability.

Without Hope (1945), Image courtesy of kahlo.org — *Without Hope* (1945), Image courtesy of kahlo.org

Frida Kahlo in one of the body casts she wore after spinal surgery, which she painted. Image courtesy of wordpress.com

Riva Lehrer (1958-)

Tekki Lomnicki, (1999), image courtesy of artpapers.org — *Tekki Lomnicki,* (1999), image courtesy of artpapers.org

Self portrait titled 66 Degrees, (2019), image courtesy of boingboing.net — Self portrait titled *66 Degrees,* (2019), image courtesy of boingboing.net

Artist and activist Riva Lehrer makes the connection to disability in her art clear when she states, “Disability is the fuel of my work and the engine of my career.” Lehrer explores the spectrum of ability by portraying a wide variety of friends, colleagues, and acquaintances with disabilities through her lyrical, lush paintings. Born with spina bifida, Lehrer spent her childhood in and out of the hospital, but was able to obtain an accessible education through the progressive Condon School for Handicapped Children in Cincinnati, Ohio. Lehrer developed a fascination for biology and anatomy due to her own experience with disability as well as society’s reaction to it. This scientific interest developed into an artistic passion, and Lehrer began to explore themes of anatomy and ability through painting. Lehrer states that as a burgeoning artist she was continually rejected by the art world due to her prioritizing subjects with disabilities while refusing to cast them in an overly tragic or fetishized light. In 1997, after relocating to Chicago, Lehrer immersed herself in a community of creatives with disabilities. There she was able to hone her artistic practice while immersing herself in the field of Disability Culture, which she describes as “the aesthetic expression of the theory, scholarship, politics and personal narratives that make up Disability Studies.” Her career expanded beyond the fine arts as she began to teach at universities, write, and advocate for people with disabilities. Her artistic exploration, fascination with anatomy and biology, and expertise in Disability Studies all combine to form a body of written and artistic work that is incisive, open, and personal. Lehrer’s portraits explore the full spectrum of ability and identity, portraying her subjects with an honesty and compassion that works to break down stigmas surrounding ability, gender, and sexual orientation. She focuses on the individuality of each sitter, making sure to establish an emotional and intellectual connection with them. As Lehrer discusses in a conversation with Emily Watlington for Art Papers, the emphasis on capturing the genuine experience of each individual eliminates the risk of forcing one subject to be the metaphorical representation of a whole community. In the same interview, Lehrer discusses how she works to portray the full spectrum of emotion in her subjects, including, most importantly, joy and contentment, so as to avoid the harmful conflation of disability with pain. Lehrer’s understanding of anatomy is apparent in her highly detailed paintings and drawings, as well as her understanding of her subjects; every nuance of emotion and experience is carefully captured in the figures, often framed by vivid settings and symbols of magical realism. Lehrer has a memoir coming out later this year, entitled Golem Girl, which marks another exciting step in her impressive career of art, education, and activism.

Tommy Hollenstein (1961-)

Hollenstein and his dog Weaver. Image courtesy of iearts.org

LA- based artist Tommy Hollenstein’s paintings are a rhythmic and colorful expression of how he moves through the world. At 24, Hollenstein was rendered quadriplegic through a mountain biking accident. After years of healing, frustration, and contemplation, Hollenstein was inspired to capture his connection to his service dog by depicting both of their tracks through paint; rolling his wheelchair across the canvas, then letting his dog follow suit. What started as a poignant way to symbolize a friendship quickly turned into Hollenstein’s livelihood. He began further experimenting with vibrant colors and patterns, and eventually garnered success within the LA community, which only expanded from there. Hollenstein’s finesse is evident in his paintings. He has honed his technique to a point where he can bend the familiar tread of a wheelchair tire to take on a myriad of qualities, from staccato brushstrokes to long, fluid sweeps of paint. His works feature tightly formed patterns as much as fluid abstract moments. Hollenstein’s abstract works show clear planning through his skillful use of color, but also elements of spontaneity and joy. Every work contains a physical memory of Hollenstein’s experience making it; one can imagine his path traveling back and forth, around and around, pushing the term ‘action painting’ to new heights with each pass of his tire treads. According to his artist statement, Hollenstein’s surroundings heavily inform his work, from the car culture of LA adding new dimension to his work with wheels, to the landscape of the sun and sea adding vibrancy to the colors he uses. Hollenstein’s work has a visceral intimacy to it, as he bypasses the need for an intermediate agent to create; his wheelchair is an extension of himself, and his art is an extension of that, forming a direct connection between his imagination and the canvas.

Quicker and Faster. Image courtesy of Hollenstein’s website. — *Quicker and Faster.* Image courtesy of Hollenstein’s website.

Johann Hauser (1926-1996)

Naked Woman with Hat (1986). Image courtesy of Museum Gugging’s website. — *Naked Woman with Hat* (1986). Image courtesy of Museum Gugging’s website.

Johann Hauser is widely regarded as a key member of one of the first groups of Outsider Artists. Born an orphan in the Czech Republic, Hauser was institutionalized for his intellectual disabilities until age 17, when he was transferred to the Maria Gugging Psychiatric Clinic in Gugging, Austria. There, psychiatric patients received an unconventional treatment regime from psychiatrist Leo Navratil. Navratil was fascinated with the creative output received from running artistic diagnostic tests on his patients. His methods were unconventional and controversial; he viewed the artists’ mental illnesses as the source of their creativity, and often let them go unmedicated for periods of time to ensure maximum creative output. This is where the role of exploitation in the development of Outsider Art must be acknowledged. However, Navratil was also able to foster independence and healing through art practice, and steered Gugging towards becoming something more closely resembling an artists’ collective than a psychiatric treatment facility. In 1981, the center rebranded as a Center for Art and Psychotherapy alongside the original psychiatric facility, and his patients were able to take on the duties of resident artists. The art world began to take notice of this diverse group of artists, and, notably, Jean DuBuffet added many pieces to his developing collection of ‘l’Art Brut.’ Famous artists, designers, and writers visited the site to commune with the artists and derive inspiration from the creative community. Now, the site is a museum to the work created there.

Hauser at Gugging, date unknown, image courtesy of christianberst.com

Hauser is one of the most well-known members of Gugging, undoubtedly due to his prominent style and vivid motifs. The intensity of Hauser’s drawings gives each subject a life of its own, the heavy line work and vibrant colors propelling each image off the page. Hauser focused on many aspects of the world around him, experimenting with drawings of animals, vehicles, and symbols. However, Hauser’s most intriguing drawings are his female nudes. These abstracted forms are usually blanketed by layers of color and vaguely vaginal shapes. They are objectively crude, but they also have a sense of reverence about them. Hauser’s relationship to eroticism was complex; he struggled with bouts of erethism, so desire was a strange and daunting concept to him. As Jenifer P. Borum notes in a description for the Outsider Art Fair, “ The artist focused his attention on the female form, in which he saw not only an object of desire, but also a source of great power. For Hauser, eroticism was a violent force, evident in his agitated figures, exaggerated physiognomy, and gestural force lines.” There is a fascinating dynamic present in these jagged drawings of otherworldly women; their chaotic energy enlightens the viewer to the fear and fascination Hauser wrestled with. The power dynamics in play at Gugging are arguably complex, as most of the sale and distribution of the artist’s work were fully controlled by psychiatrists. Still, the institution gave a group of remarkable artists the opportunity to live and work as independent creatives, enabling them to leave their mark on the art world.

Conclusion

In order to learn more about artists with disabilities and support their work, it is necessary to patronize institutions that make conscious commitments to diversity and inclusion. The American Visionary Arts Museum in Baltimore and the annual Outsider Art Fair in New York and Paris are a couple examples of contemporary art institutions that prioritize the voices of artists with disabilities. However, to promote accessibility in the art world in a more concrete way, it is important to focus on local organizations first. For example, Art Enables is a DC-based studio that provides artistic and vocational resources to adult artists with disabilities. Their commitment to fostering the talent and potential of each individual artist is what drives social change in the art world. Other studios like this in the DC area include Make Studio in Baltimore, VisAbility Art Lab in Rockville, as well as more variations around the country. Supporting these valuable cultural institutions is easy: simply make a donation, purchase some art, or just stop by.

In order to continue the conversation of accessibility in the art world, here are a handful of questions to consider when entering any museum, gallery, or community art space:

-Who would feel comfortable navigating this space? Are there physical features (ramps, railings, etc.) that would make the visiting experience possible for all visitors?

-Are all visitors able to take in the art? Are there audio descriptions and transcripts available?

-What kind of culture does this space create? Is there diversity in its patronage and staff?

-Are artists with disabilities represented by this space? If they are, how are their experiences framed?

In order to work towards a more accessible art world, we must prioritize the voices of artists with disabilities, learning about their experiences while unlearning the ableist biases present in many museum, gallery, and higher education spaces.

Here are the resources I used, as well as additional articles to explore in order to expand upon this topic.

An overview of Disability Pride Month and the ADA:

https://therollingexplorer.com/everything-you-need-to-know-about-disability-pride-month-in-2020/

https://adata.org/factsheet/ADA-overview

Some institutions that support artists with disabilities

http://www.avam.org/

https://creativegrowth.org/about

http://www.make-studio.org/about.html#:~:text=Make%20Studio%20is%20a%20501,and%20voice%20in%20their%20communities.

https://www.visartscenter.org/visability-art-lab/

https://art-enables.org/

https://www.outsiderartfair.com/

Judith Scott Resources