EAST PROVIDENCE - You never know what you'll find when you step inside the Top Drawer Art Center in East Providence. Except, that is, nothing you've ever seen before. Over here is a long table covered with Doug Nichols's cardboard pieces that visitors turn over for a surprise. Hanging on a back wall are large canvases filled with dazzlingly colorful and intricately detailed paintings by Brian Lamora and Katrina Cathcart.
Michael Pascale is hunched over in the work area, scribbling out long, crooked lines of his poetry. Tucked away in a corner you'll find Wendy Lebeau's hand-painted chairs, featuring a smiley face on the seats. In front of the chairs sits a display of handmade jewelry by Virginia Tavares, who enthusiastically works on her latest creation nearby.
And in the back of the studio sits an old Lowrey organ, drum set and other instruments. They're property of the as-yet-unnamed house band which, musician and visual artist Kyle Komiega promises, "will blow this place apart."
It's a heady outpouring of expression, large in scope and bursting with originality -- a lot to take in for one visit. Staff members and visitors are constantly amazed by the sheer originality and quirkiness of the artists' output, whether it be Wendy Lebeau's illustrative take on Pluto's downgrade -- her drawing depicts Pluto being kicked out of a planets-only nightclub -- to the hundreds of drawings of pants by Theresa Medeiros.
"Nothing's the same," says Ryan Gomersall, assistant studio coordinator. "We haven't seen anything that looks like anything else. Every day, something new happens."
So what's the secret to this outburst of collective inventiveness? Perhaps it's due to a lack of formal training.
That's right. None of these artists have gone to art school. Few have taken regular drawing or painting classes. Most of them can't care for themselves. All of them are developmentally disabled.
"Their view of the world is very different than ours ... not unlike any other minority community," says Tom McAleer, administrator of human supports at Life, Inc., a private, non-profit group which provides outlets and assistance for Rhode Islanders with developmental disabilities.
The agency has several off-site projects for their clients, including a flea market, a cafe and a snack business. And then there's the Top Drawer space, where about 45 clients ranging in age from 21 to 79 come for their creative outlet.
"We're talking about a pretty huge range (of disabilities)," says Seamus Hames, Top Drawer's studio coordinator. "Some have autism, some have Down syndrome, some have cerebral palsy."
But here, you're not labeled as someone with a developmental disability or a cognitive impairment. Here, you're an artist. Or, more accurately, an "outsider artist" -- someone who creates art outside of the mainstream of society.
"I like to think of it as self-taught," says Mr. Hames. "If you're an outsider, you're kind of outside the learning process."
Mr. Hames, 27, first became acquainted with outsider art when he was a student at the Art Institute of Chicago. "I interned at a gallery called Intui, which is this international center for outsider art," says Mr. Hames, whose main medium is drawing.
As he tells it, the artwork he saw at Intuit opened his eyes. "There's something about it that's sort of liberating. Just to know there's this kind of individuality, that you don't necessarily have to be a skilled craftsman," he says.
Both he and Mr. McAleer, a painter, say their work has been influenced by their clients at Top Drawer as well as other outsider artists. "I do shows on a regular basis," says Mr. McAleer. "I consider myself very successful, and the biggest influence on my work has been outsider artists. They've taught me to use all of my senses when I'm painting. Instead of us impacting their work, their work has significantly impacted ours."
At the same time, Mr. Hames readily acknowledges he could never produce some of the art being churned out by people with developmental disabilities. As an example he points to "obsessive drawing," where an artist's canvas is overflowing with finely detailed, minute sketches. One of the main proponents of this style is Donald Mitchell, whose works have been featured prominently at Creative Growth, a gallery in California which Top Drawer strives to emulate.
"I draw, but I don't have the patience for that kind of stuff," he says.
Mr. McAleer says it's a foregone conclusion that these artists have such a unique vision. After all, they've been challenged their entire lives to complete even the most mundane of tasks.
"When you're in a wheelchair, you have to ask yourself, 'How do I get my coffee to the counter?' Creativity is really normal for them," he says.
No shame in disability
Painting, drawing or building their latest masterpiece gives them something else, too: confidence.
Doug Nichols, who's currently exhibiting his works at Top Drawer, is a client whose life has been transformed by his art. "This niche has had a huge impact on his life and how he interacts socially. He's this multimedia person and one of the most creative people I've ever met. Doug, I think, probably has the potential to really be recognized as an influential outsider artist," says Mr. McAleer.
Katrina Cathcart of Warren, who recently had her own show at Top Drawer, is another client who has found her voice through art.
"Katrina typically would not want to be viewed as disabled," says Mr. McAleer, adding that her newly found talent has allowed her to embrace her disability. "It's really the first time in a long time that I'm seeing folks being proud of being disabled, rather than being ashamed of being disabled," says Mr. McAleer.
"Before, I spent a lot of time in my dreams," says Ms. Cathcart, 23, standing in front of "World History," a brightly colored work on a giant piece of canvas that took two people to move. "But now I've met a lot of my peers with the same dreams that I have. I really want to take my art to the next level. I've already started to become a professional artist."
Indeed, several Top Drawer artists have made money from their work. Among them is Betty Lou Wilcox. Severely disabled, she's been dubbed a "true action painter" who dumps different colored paints onto a flat surface of the canvas, then whips the paints around.
"I remember we did a show for Betty Lou which was very successful. Her mom had said she was proud of her when she learned to make her own lunch. Now she's an artist," says Mr. McAleer, adding that Ms. Wilcox had been selling Avon products to earn cash. "She made more money in one show than she made in a lifetime by selling her stuff."
Although outsider art is bigger in Europe -- Ms. Cathcart has attracted attention from Raw Vision, a slick French magazine devoted to the niche -- it's starting to get more attention in the United States, according to McAleer.
"The arts community and collectors are looking at this very closely. It's very new to this country and it has a very strong underground following," he says. "It's not a sympathy response. It's more of a response of respect. Now we have been meeting with galleries that deal specifically with outsider art because it is a specific market."
Top Drawer is certainly receiving its share of attention. Last week the art center was visited by members of the Genesis Center in Providence, which provides education and support services to immigrant and refugee families. The center's staff wanted to see how art is used to support clients with disabilities, says Betsy Meaney, an instructor at Genesis.
"For people to be able to do this is long overdue and good to see," she says.
Erick Diosa of the Genesis Center, a painter himself who moved to the United States from Columbia five years ago, was impressed with what he saw. "This is a good job," he says, looking over one of Mr. Nichols's paintings. "Everything he wanted to express is on the canvas: freedom, fantasy, different colors."
More and more collectors will also be stopping by, predicts Mr. McAleer. That would be most welcome, because although outsider artists love to create, they usually don't get too attached to their finished works.
"Once the piece is done, they kind of discard it and you have to save it from the trash," says Mr. Hames with a laugh.
"They just want to work," echoes Mr. McAleer. "Most of them return the next day and start something new."
Upcoming events at Top Drawer
If you'd like to see the wholly original works by the artists at Top Drawer, you'll have a good opportunity to do so this month and next.
The center is currently displaying "Dragon," featuring paintings and an interactive collage by Doug Nichols. The collage is a series of various-sized cardboard pieces face down on a table. When you turn one over, you're greeted with a surprise.
"Doug uses cardboard and tape the way other artists use paint. He really likes card and board games. These are all his own homemade versions of games," said Seamus Hames, the art center's studio coordinator. He added that Mr. Nichols will guide each viewer as he or she views the pieces.
The exhibit runs through Dec. 1.
The art center is also gearing up for its Holiday Art Sale on Saturday, Dec. 2, from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Here you'll find a wide variety of works in many media -- painting, collage, photography, jewelry, sculpture and more -- available for sale. As always, the center will also be selling pins depicting recent works by the artists for $1 each.
The holiday art sale will also give you a chance to check out the Top Drawer house band. One of its members is Kyle Komiega, a multimedia artist who loves Bruce Springsteen.
"That's good stuff, man!" exclaims Mr. Komiega, sporting a Hard Rock Cafe T-shirt. "I play them all and go crazy. I play everything: guitar, drums, everything. I like rock music. Yeah! We'll blow this place apart. I want it loud."
He must speak the truth; another band member, Stephanie, shows off a blister she says she got from beating the drums so hard.
Top Drawer Art Center
2731 Pawtucket Ave., East Providence
432-7270
www.topdrawerartcenter.org
Open Monday-Friday, 10 a.m. to 2 p.m., or by appointment.
By Jim McGaw
jmcgaw@eastbaynewspapers.com
With reports from Jennifer A. Salcido.
