Call it bold or banal, but I think enough time has passed since Hamilton‘s debut in 2015 that a New Yorker can make a reference to the musical without the city collectively rolling its eyes and storming off in a huff for a hot bagel. In the production’s finale, the ensemble cast sings: “Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?”
I’ve been wondering about the third part of that lyrical question a lot lately, particularly as it relates to the arts industry and our papers and magazines of record. Who gets an obituary these days? What’s the career, caché, or threshold one must meet? Audrey B. Heckler passed away this spring, and the silence around her death simply does not compute with the enduring scope of her impact on the art world in New York and beyond.
Yes, I knew Audrey personally. But it’s almost impossible, and certainly irresponsible, to tell the story of Outsider Art’s place in the modern art market and museum landscape without talking about Heckler, such was the scale of her vision and contributions to the movement. Heckler’s collection at its height numbered more than 700 works by artists including James Castle, Aloïse Corbaz, Madge Gill, Martín Ramírez, and Adolf Wölfli, and it reflected her deep passion for Art Brut and the raw, untrained creativity of self-taught artists often eschewed by the mainstream market and modern tastemakers.
Her contributions to the genre were immense. As a trustee of the American Folk Art Museum for 20 years and through her generous lending of works to global exhibitions, Heckler saw to it that Outsider Art always had a place on the art world’s stage. She sponsored both the American Folk Art Museum’s Council for Self-Taught Art and Art Brut and its Visionary Award, honoring individuals and organizations that have made lasting contributions toward the recognition of self-taught artists. Her steadfast advocacy challenged traditional notions of what art should be expected to be.
That legacy lives on in a very real way through her collection, which she donated to AFAM in 2020 and which Artnet News declared at the time to be “one of the most important and comprehensive collections of self-taught art.” Audrey put in the work, traveling extensively to discover, acquire, and share pieces that spoke to her unique vision. Her dedication to the movement was unparalleled and deeply personal as she hoped everyone might some day see in these artworks what she did, and generously lent her pieces to global venues and galleries, including mine. The academic and historical value of Audrey’s public legacy is complimented by her unwavering commitment to preserving and celebrating the work of artists who existed outside the conventional boundaries of the art world.
But Heckler was always more than her collection. Her powerful presence, elegance, and yes, that unmistakable New York accent left an indelible mark on all who were lucky enough to know her. Despite her outward splendor, Audrey confided that she often felt shy and insecure, downplaying her achievements and that sophisticated eye not so much to shrink from the attention, but so as to not deflect it from what she saw as the real brilliance: the works and artists she so championed. Nevertheless, her contributions are obvious; she built a cohesive, world-class collection of Art Brut and generously shared it with the world.
Outsider Art, by its very nature, challenges traditional art world hierarchies. It often exists outside of formal training and institutional validation, and its collectors, like Heckler, have historically similarly been seen as outsiders who work beyond the fragile balance that is the mainstream art market. Art Brut had found me early on in my own career in 1997 when I started working at American Folk Art Museum (I would not meet Heckler myself for nearly another decade).
At the time, I was introduced to George Widener and his complex, calculating work. He became the first outsider artist I ever collected, and the years and record-setting sales that followed affirmed my belief that Art Brut deserved incorporation in the mainstream market. Audrey, however, believed these artists should maintain their unique place outside the mainstream, unbeholden to the fickle whims and forces of the market. She never wavered in that belief and it guided her curatorial practice her entire life.
I don’t know why Heckler’s passing has not yet been followed by greater reflection of her impact and life. Perhaps it’s just an indication of the market’s bias. Maybe it’s another symptom of an industry prone to overlooking the contributions of women, particularly those who didn’t always toe the party line. Whatever the reason, the absence of Heckler’s legacy from our publications of record leaves a hole in the history of Art Brut.
Audrey Heckler’s collection tells the story of the largest genre of art in the world and the unique, individual artists who fit in it, because they didn’t fit anywhere else. If surrendering that is the price of admission to the club, maybe Audrey was never meant to fit in it either.
Sara Kay’s career in the art world spans more than twenty-five years and includes museum, auction house, gallery, and not-for-profit. She previously directed White Cube Gallery in London, Jan Krugier Gallery in New York, and led the Old Master Drawings department at Christie’s, New York. Kay is also the Founder and Chairman of the Professional Organization of Women in the Arts, a 501(c)(3) dedicated to championing and advancing women in the business of the visual arts. Kay began her career at the museum of American Folk Art and has admired and promoted outsider art ever since.