Art Brut Pets at the NYC Outsider Art Fair

As someone who typically spends my days analyzing feline behavior patterns and the subtle nuances of whisker positioning, my recent visit to the Outsider Art Fair in New York offered a refreshing perspective on creativity that exists beyond traditional boundaries—much like how cats themselves operate outside conventional social structures.

Art Brut vs. Outsider Art

Art Brut, French for “raw art,” refers specifically to creative works produced by non-professionals working outside aesthetic norms—particularly those with mental illness, prisoners, and other social outsiders. The term was coined by French artist Jean Dubuffet in 1945, who was fascinated by art created outside formal training and cultural influence.

Outsider Art emerged as a broader, English-language equivalent that encompasses Art Brut but extends to include self-taught artists, folk artists, and visionaries without formal training, regardless of their social standing or mental state. While Art Brut maintains stricter criteria about the creator’s isolation from mainstream culture, Outsider Art embraces a wider spectrum of unconventional creators.

I first became fascinated by outsider art many years ago while visiting The Collection de l’Art Brut in Lausanne, Switzerland, established by Dubuffet in 1976, stands as the definitive museum dedicated to this genre.

Housing over 70,000 works by more than 1,000 creators, this institution preserves Dubuffet’s original vision by showcasing art created by individuals who work completely outside established artistic traditions and cultural influences. The museum remains the preeminent global center for studying and experiencing authentic Art Brut as Dubuffet defined it.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Luckily, there are outsider art fairs across the pond like in New York.

Whenever I step out from Grand Central Station, I love the mix of architecture.

The Outsider Art Fair, now in its 32nd year, continues to showcase work by self-taught artists who create without formal training, institutional validation, or concern for established artistic norms.

These creators work from pure instinct and necessity—a creative approach that any cat behaviorist would recognize as fundamentally feline in nature.

What struck me immediately was the prevalence of animal imagery, particularly cats and dogs, throughout the exhibition. Unlike the polished, anatomically perfect renderings found in mainstream galleries, these depictions captured something more essential about our companion animals.

The raw, unfiltered portrayals of dogs or cats—with exaggerated eyes, elongated bodies, and sometimes supernatural qualities—seemed to express the mysterious essence that those of us in feline behavior studies attempt to document through scientific observation.

I was particularly drawn to the work of English illustrator Allison Friend, whose presence at the fair marked a fascinating crossover between commercial illustration and outsider sensibilities.

I wasn’t the only one fascinated by her work. Nearly all of the dozen works exhibited were sold at $1400 a pop. She is slated to have a solo NYC show in November.

Friend’s stylized cats with their round, emotive eyes and exaggerated proportions tap into something primal about feline appeal. Though formally trained, her work maintains that essential outsider quality of emotional directness. Her cats possess an uncanny ability to convey complex emotional states through minimalist features—something I’ve observed in actual cats who can communicate volumes through the slightest tail twitch or pupil dilation.

Friend’s work demonstrates how the line between trained and intuitive art blurs when the subject matter demands emotional authenticity over technical precision.

The result is anthropomorphic whimsy with heart that every pet owner can relate to.

Contrasting sharply with Friend’s approachable style was New York’s own Jacob Gerard, whose densely layered mixed-media pieces feature canine and feline forms emerging from chaotic urban landscapes. Gerard, who began creating art while living in his car with his rescue dog, produces work that captures the hypervigilant sensory experience familiar to anyone who studies feline neurological responses to environmental stress.

His repeated motif of cats perched on impossible ledges, eyes wide and alert, resonates with my research on how domestic cats maintain their evolutionary vigilance even in secure environments. Gerard’s untrained approach allows him to capture the tension between domesticity and wildness that defines the feline experience.

One artist, a former postal worker from rural Georgia, presented a series of folk paintings depicting cats as guardian spirits, their bodies elongated and eyes hypnotically oversized—reminiscent of the dilated pupils I observe in cats during their crepuscular hunting hours.

The neurological underpinnings of creativity in these outsider artists mirror what we observe in cats during play: both engage in behavior without external reward structures, driven by internal necessity and the pure joy of expression.

Several artists with developmental differences created intricate, repetitive patterns that reminded me of the precise kneading behavior cats display when content—both activities seemingly serving as self-soothing mechanisms while creating something of beauty.

Most compelling was the work of an elderly woman who began painting after a lifetime of caring for feral cat colonies. Her canvases depicted multi-colored feline forms intertwining in complex social arrangements, capturing the subtle hierarchical structures I’ve documented in my research on multi-cat households. Her untrained eye had recorded nuances of feline body language that typically require years of scientific observation to recognize.

Unlike the commercial polish of mainstream art markets, the Outsider Art Fair maintains an authenticity and directness—qualities any cat owner will recognize in their pet’s unfiltered communication style. There’s no pretense, no artificial sophistication—just the raw expression of internal experience, whether that’s the compulsion to create or the urge to suddenly race sideways across the living room at 3 AM.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Outsider art to me is the ultimate think out of the box experience. What do you think?