Review: “The Lost World: The Art of Minnie Evans” Top

Welcome to One Fine Showwhen the Observer highlights an exhibit that just opened at a museum outside of New York City, a place we know and love is already getting a lot of attention.

More recently, there has been a style of art made outside the influence of the art industry-gallery-museum. These days, such art is often called “folk art” and “self-taught art,” but they used to call it “outsider art”—a term that would not work in today’s art world that wants to be as inclusive as possible. The new language is also very much in line with what people like about these artists. Their skills were invented outside of MFA programs, of course, but people were more attracted to the idea that this allowed them to connect more with themselves and with the wider culture of humanity. No matter what you call it, there’s always subtle self-delusion in there, too. Many people who watch this type of work also have never received formal training, and no doubt many of them think that if they pick up a brush, they can do something just as good.

Although self-taught, Minnie Evans (1892-1987) rejected the foreign label in her life. Her work is the subject of “The Lost World: The Art of Minnie Evans,” an exhibit at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta that collects more than 100 of her wild paintings from her early 1930s to the end of her life. The major exhibition includes pieces from institutions and private collections, including that of Wendy Williams, “owner of the largest and most extensive collection of Evans’ work in public or private hands,” according to the catalog.

In 1975, Evans was one of the first black artists to have a solo show at the Whitney, which led to widespread popularity in the last decade of his life, but like other traditional artists he worked for the most part in obscurity. Much of his work is done in crayon, which gives it an intensity of color and texture, although it is not abstract or child-like in appearance at all. Filled with flowers, faces and supernatural creatures, the works are very similar to the work of someone who has just had an idea and needs to get it down quickly, with a crayon the only tool available.

Evans had visions—dreams so intense that he could not sleep at night. He turned his attention to art after the death of his grandmother in 1935, who saw elements of myth in these nocturnal visits when others dismissed them. He may have devoted himself to the arts in order to keep thinking about them in a positive way. Untitled (Angels, Centaur, Devil, and Janus form) (c. 1970) shows exactly what the title suggests, which may seem dense, intimidating or overwhelming given the title. In fact, between the colors and the style, these figures all feel completely worthwhile. Most of them are smiling.

This does not come from a particular religion or discipline. Temple by the Sea (1955), a wonderful oil work of geometric magic, explores his connection to Trinidad but refers to a Hindu temple built there during his lifetime. The mandala wasn’t an influence but it didn’t weigh him down too much. The spirituality in his flower paintings recalls what the assassin Hilma af Klint showed at the Museum of Modern Art this summer, but he sees none of the same need for science. This impressive show should not be underestimated when it comes to New York this summer.

“The Lost World: The Art of Minnie Evans” on view at the High Museum of Art until April 19, 2026. The show will then move on to the Whitney in New York.

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