Private Visions: Outsider Art on Utah's Cultural Landscape

Private Visions: Outsider Art on Utah’s Cultural Landscape

BY ROGER ROPER

Some of Utah’s most captivating historical constructions are the artistic installations that have been labeled outsider art. This article highlights seven examples of Utah’s outsider art over the past 130-plus years, arranged roughly in chronological order. They include the following: “The Old Curiosity Shop or Crazy House” in Salt Lake City; the “King World Inscription” near Moab; Van’s Hall in Delta; Gilgal Garden in Salt Lake City; the Bottle House in Teasdale; Pizy Alldredge’s yard art in Oak City, Millard County; and Ralphael’s Church/School in Salt Lake City.

The term outsider art was coined in the early 1970s and refers to the large-scale artistic creations of individuals working outside the realm of traditional art—and even traditional construction. 1 Many cultures from around the world have produced significant examples of outsider art and scholars have used a number of terms to describe the artistic works of the craftspeople, artisans, and visionaries who have followed their own private muses to generate unique cultural environments. These terms include marginal art, naïve art, rural folk art, self-taught art, primitivism, vernacular and popular urban art, art of the mentally deranged, Art Brut, and visionary art environments. 2

Regardless of the labels assigned to these works and regardless of their wide variety and individualized nature, they share a number of common characteristics. Their creators were usually manual workers who embarked on their artistic careers after retirement. They were mostly men, oftentimes widowers, although there were some women and even a few couples. The artists generally used salvaged or recycled materials such as broken crockery, glass, beads, metal, or broken equipment. Concrete and stucco were especially favored materials because of their malleability, strength, and low cost. Most outsider art is located outdoors, usually on the artist’s property. A good number of the creators took many years, sometimes decades, to complete their works. They commonly employed themes of religion and patriotism, God and country, as well as tributes to honorable labor: farming, lumbering, the building trades, pioneering and settlement, and the hard work of common folks. Artists’ works were often unpopular with their neighbors and sometimes prompted questions about the artists’ mental stability. Some artists combined words with images. Animal images were often a part of outsider art installations. The projects often became an obsession, compelling their creators to continue against daunting odds. The following are some of the noted outsider art installations in Utah.

“The Old Curiosity Shop” or “Crazy House,” Salt Lake City

Swedish immigrant Anders John Miller created two elaborately festooned houses on the “Tenth Ward Bench,” an eastside Salt Lake City neighborhood, between about 1880 and his death in 1913. 3 Miller was born in 1837, converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in his native land, and probably came to Utah in the late 1870s. 4 He first appears in the 1879– 1880 city directory, which lists his occupation as “painter” and his residence as the north side of Third South between Eighth East and Ninth East (later referred to over the years more precisely and variously as 273 and 277 South 800 East and 803 East Third South). The 1885 city directory lists his occupation intriguingly as “toy manufacturer,” but thereafter he is consistently referred to as a whitewasher or “kalsominer.” That was the trade he was best known for in the city for almost a quarter century.

The “Gentleman Whitewasher,” as some called Miller, was a well-known character throughout the city, recognized for his distinctive dress as much as for his considerable skill in his profession. He reportedly dressed every day in a white shirt, black tie, swallowtail coat, black trousers, and white fabric gloves. In addition, Miller often tied a white apron around his waist. A concern about riding on streetcars caused him to walk everywhere, carrying his long-handled brushes and large bucket. 5

Miller was also generally regarded as being of an unsound mind and “suffering with chronic religious mania.” 6 Although he was considered “harmless and even a great favorite among children,” he was not without critics. 7 In 1904, some of Miller’s neighbors feared that his “crazy” preaching would corrupt their children, even though he rebutted that he was reciting the Swedish alphabet to them. The ensuing investigation by the authorities resulted in his commitment to the state mental hospital in Provo. 8 Other neighbors soon interceded on Miller’s behalf, and he was eventually released and moved back into his rented house on Eleventh East. 9 Miller’s involuntary commitment to the state hospital, as well as the language used to describe him, connect his experience to a key theme in contemporary and even scholarly discussions of outsider artists: a tendency to characterize such artists as unwell and eccentric. Some of the latest research, however, bypasses the preoccupation with an individual’s perceived instability in an effort to understand how his or her artwork fulfilled a therapeutic need—often in response to personal traumas. 10 This could have been the case for Anders Miller.

Anders Miller residence in the Salt Lake City Tenth Ward, as the neighborhood was called. C. R. Savage, photographer. Utah State Historical Society, photo no. 8680.

Anders Miller residence. Note the shrine-like installations, bunting, and other decorations. Utah State Historical Society, photo no. 8681.

Even before Miller’s stint at the state hospital, locals referred to him as “Crazy Miller,” and he was cited in newspaper articles in the early 1900s as an “aged recluse,” “eccentric character,” and “unfortunate man.” The “unfortunate” description is based on two key events. The first was the death and burial at sea of Miller’s sweetheart, Olga Hanson, who was coming to join him in Utah in the early 1880s. The news

of her death triggered a long-term physical illness; he eventually recovered but the illness reportedly threw him into a perpetual state of mental instability. When he finally recovered, he began pursuing two obsessions. The first was what would become a thirty-year vigil of burning a candle in the window of his small house to guide Olga, whom he believed would come find him when the sea gave up its dead. His second obsession was decorating the outside and inside of his homes in the manner shown in the photographs of the period. 11

The adornments on Miller’s homes consisted largely of bunting—usually red and white, although sometimes blue as well—draped across the front of the house and property. The black and white photos that exist of his house do not, of course, portray the colors, but Miller’s obituary refers to him as “the man known for living in a house of many colors.” 12 There were also artificial flowers and wreaths, garlands, and shrine-like installations featuring framed paintings, among other objects. Miller draped the interior walls of his house in bunting and lace curtains, accented with bunches of dried foliage. A lace spread with a few large wreaths of artificial flowers always covered the bed, reportedly representing his sweetheart’s grave. 13

One woman who lived in the neighborhood recalled that Miller also decorated with clay birds, fruit, and plants, which he made as a hobby. Some of the birds he painted in their natural colors, while others he enlivened with vivid hues and a profusion of dots. Miller made hundreds of these birds and gave them away to visitors, who would come on Sunday evenings—the only time he accepted visitors—to view the “Old Curiosity Shop.” There were often twenty-five to fifty people waiting in line to go through the house.

The second unfortunate event in Miller’s life was actually the way he died. Whether from his ever-present candle in the window or some other source of flame, his adornments caught fire one day and burned down his house. Miller survived that first fire. This probably happened in the mid-1890s, when his address, as listed in the city directories, changed from 277 South 800 East to 343 South 1100 East. 14 The owner of the Eleventh East house allowed Miller to move there under the express condition that he would not decorate the place. But decorating was an obsession for him, and soon, little by little, he started draping bunting and lace curtains and placing his clay birds and fruit in the new house. 15

On January 17, 1913, Miller’s coal oil lamp exploded in this house and set fire to the decorations. Miller, who was seventy-five years old at the time, managed to escape the burning house but reportedly went back in to rescue his cat. He suffered severe burns and died a couple of weeks later. 16 The elaborate environment that he had created over the years expired with him. His last words reportedly were, “I have waited many years, but I will see Olga now pretty soon.” 17

King World Sandstone Carving, Moab

In 1935, an itinerant man—known variously as Aharron Andeew, Aaron Andrew, Andrew Aliason, Harlan Andrew, and M.C.F. Hhaesuss—carved a bas relief sculpture into a large sandstone boulder located about halfway up a steep, rocky hillside east of Highway 191, just north of Moab. The long, narrow boulder is approximately twenty-five feet long, four feet wide, and six feet tall. The carving, which covers less than half of the boulder’s face, consists of a man on a horse (though only the head of each is actually shown) and an enigmatic inscription. The man is wearing a Cossack-type hat and has military-style ornaments on his collar. The eastern and western hemispheres are depicted on the two collar ornaments and, more visibly, on the hat. A sword and what appears to be a double-barreled shotgun are over his shoulders. The inscription contains the date “1935,” “Hhæsuss” (an apparent reference to Jesus), “America,” the sculptor’s name (Aharron Andeew), and the phrases “King of America” and “King World.” The man’s profile in the sculpture may be Andrew himself.

The King World bas relief, near Moab, Utah. Aaron Andrew (as he was known locally) created this sculpture in the mid-1930s. Today, it is located on the property of the Moab Regional Hospital. Utah State Historic Preservation Office.

Two undated photographs of Aaron Andrew, who was also called Aharron Andeew, Andrew Aliason, Harlan Andrew, and M.C.F. Hhaesuss. Source of original photos unknown. Duplicate copies, Utah State Historic Preservation Office.

A 1986 article in a local publication provides the most descriptive account of Andrew’s time in Moab, based on the recollections of Lloyd Parriott, whose family befriended him when Lloyd was fourteen years old. In the summer of 1935, Andrew was passing through southeastern Utah and decided to stay in Moab for a while. He became known locally as Aaron Andrew. A local family, the Parriotts, allowed him to set up camp on their property just off the road at the north end of town with his pack horses, donkey, and goats, near where he would carve the sculpture. For the several months Andrew was in Moab he worked occasionally for Ruth and Dale Parriott on their ranch. The Parriotts thought he came from southern Europe or Asia Minor, and he spoke with an accent that might have been Turkish or Armenian. They recollected that Andrew was “quiet and unobtrusive and, with the exception of a few odd habits, never bothered anyone.” He never revealed much about his background, though at various times he claimed to have been a former cavalry officer and to be a German. Little else was known about him. 18

Andrew was known for his personal habits. Every Sunday morning he would dress himself in a regalia that was part military, part priestly, and would parade like a sentry back and forth in front of his camp with his sword and rifle. One of the few photographs of Andrew at that time shows him wearing a large ceremonial necklace of medals over a long robe or greatcoat, an unusual hat, a long sword at his side, and what may be a rifle on his back. The medals, shaped like large coins, featured inscriptions similar to his sandstone carving: his profile, his name, his titles, and relief maps of the continents of the eastern and western hemispheres.

His motives and message were unclear except that he claimed to be the king of America, king of the world. According to Lloyd Parriott’s account, the townspeople become increasingly concerned about Andrew’s strange habits and militaristic ways and asked him to leave town.

In addition to Parriott’s recollections, a handful of contemporary newspaper articles describe the struggles of a man who must be the creator of the King World bas relief. In November 1935, Ogden police arrested one Andrew Aliason—a fifty-eight-year-old Turk who wore a necklace of medals and called himself “King of America”—at the request of the city’s residents. The people writing about this man were quick to point out the characteristics that signaled his mental instability. These descriptions also provide a few clues about Andrew’s past: that he reportedly had spent some of his childhood in a Baltimore orphanage and that he had worked as an artist in Massachusetts until 1925, when he was reborn as king of the world. Sometime in the fall of 1935, Andrew asked P. F. McFarland of West Weber if he could set up camp on McFarland’s property. Among the usual descriptions of his clothing, herd, and weapons, McFarland noted how Andrew was always carving, sewing, or stamping different materials and how that handiwork was very fine; notably, a shield Andrew carried was embellished with a man’s head in profile. In December 1935, Andrew scuffled with the Weber County sheriff and was finally judged to be insane and committed to the Utah State Hospital, where he died in 1954. 19

While Andrew himself apparently lived a life marked by ostracism and misunderstanding, his sculpture has remained in very good condition over the years and surprisingly has not been vandalized much, especially given that it was in a visible location just off the highway. Around 2000, it was incorporated into a new commercial water park at the site, dubbed the King World Water Park. The park’s promotional brochure noted that the “mysterious King World carving has baffled archeologists, treasure hunters and residents for generations.” After the water park went out of business in 2008, locals arranged to have the sculpture moved, apparently to protect it and display it more prominently. Andrew’s creation is currently located in an attractive setting on the western edge of the Moab Regional Hospital property (450 West Williams Way), and the artwork of a seeming outsider has now become a valued community asset.

Van’s Hall, Delta

The plain exterior of this commercial building on Delta’s Main Street belies its exotic interior. The elaborate, bejeweled second-floor dance hall was created by Billy Van de Vanter (known locally as Billy Van) between the late 1930s and early 1940s. Unlike many works of outsider art, this is an interior installation. It is also unusual in that it was part of an overtly commercial venture, a dance hall that Billy Van had operated above his auto repair business for a while before deciding to decorate the interior. Despite those differences, Van’s Hall fits easily into the tradition of outsider art. Billy Van was not a trained artist, but he did have a streak of creativity, and he was a skilled craftsman. The dance hall interior builds on some of the earlier embellishments he had installed on the exterior of his Main Street building.

Billy Van was born in 1882 in Kansas City and moved to the fledgling community of Delta around 1907. He married Elsie Jacob in 1916, and together they had six children. 20 Billy Van had an inventive mind, skilled hands, and an entrepreneurial spirit. His outsider-art tendencies first surfaced around 1920 when he installed life-size figures on top of his one-story garage and accompanied them with dialogue-like signs on the façade—not your typical commercial signs. These were patterned after Mutt and Jeff, popular comic strip characters at the time. Van eventually removed the rooftop figures and added a second-story dance hall to the building. Other promotional pieces included a wishing well out front, merry-go-rounds, an open-air theater, a menagerie, (complete with monkeys, pigs, and a badger), and life-size mechanized mannequin sets: one of musicians who could “play” music and one of animated baseball players. 21

Billy Van began dressing up the dance hall in the 1930s with thousands of pieces of mirror and glass; it became his crowning achievement. The focal point is the large, mirror-surfaced ball suspended in the middle of the hall and encircled by a miniature train and an airplane, which move in opposite directions. The ball is topped by a replica of the Salt Lake City LDS Temple. (Van had carved an impressively accurate scale model of the temple with his penknife in earlier years). 22 This is one of several Mormon icons in the dance hall—including Angel Moroni heralds in the entrance stairway—a bit of irony, given that Billy Van was not himself a Latter-day Saint and the dance hall had a decidedly rowdy reputation. While the imbibing of alcohol may not have been allowed on the premises, there were apparently no restrictions about allowing imbibers into the dance hall, unlike the dances sponsored by the LDS church elsewhere in Millard County. Van’s Hall had a reputation in the county as a lively and wild place: “good girls” didn’t tend to go there, especially if their parents had any say in the matter. 23

Three views of the interior of Van’s Hall in Delta, Utah. Note the mirrored ball, with its miniature replica of the LDS temple in Salt Lake City, as well as the banner promising “We Dance Next Sat.” Roger Roper, photographer. Courtesy of the author.

Billy Van died in 1942, but the dance hall continued in operation until the 1960s. The family retained ownership until 2006, when they sold it to a group dedicated to the preservation and restoration of the dance hall. In the early 1990s, the Delta Historic Preservation Commission, family members, and other residents of the community took an interest in saving this unique landmark. They were instrumental in getting the building listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1995. Subsequently, they have secured a series of small grants from the Utah State Historic Preservation Office to help stabilize the structure and make other repairs.

Although the dance hall has not been used much since the 1960s, due in large part to building code issues, it has remained remarkably well preserved. The building is used occasionally for events such as class reunions, special dances, and tours, and some day it may once again be an active part of the community.

Gilgal Garden, Salt Lake City

The most extensive, and perhaps best-known, outsider art installation in Utah is Gilgal Garden near Trolley Square in Salt Lake City. Gilgal was the creation of a retired masonry contractor and former Latter-day Saint bishop, Thomas B. Child Jr., who was born in 1888 and lived in the city’s Tenth Ward virtually his entire life. (This was the same neighborhood Anders Miller lived in, and their lives overlapped. Child would have been in his mid-twenties when Miller died, so it seems likely that he would have visited Miller’s home, although it doesn’t appear to have been a direct inspiration for Gilgal.)

Sphinx. With its finely carved face of Joseph Smith Jr. and its use of sphinx symbolism, this sculpture figuratively links Thomas Child Jr.’s beliefs to antiquity. Roger Roper, photographer. Courtesy of the author.

Monument to the Priesthood. The stone arch, the obelisk, and the set of four books pictured here form a monument to what Child believed were sources of spiritual revelation. Also visible is a replica of a birdhouse Child created in his youth. Roger Roper, photographer. Courtesy of the author.

Beginning around 1945 and continuing until his death in 1963, Child created a series of twelve original sculptures (and more than seventy features, overall) in the middle-block property behind his house at 452 South 800 East. 24 Most of these works are devoted to religious themes, primarily Mormon and biblical (Gilgal itself refers to an Old Testament memorial made of stones), but some are in recognition of the building trades, which he greatly admired as well. He even created a living memorial to his wife, Bertha, who died in 1966. Among the major works are a stone sphinx with the head of Joseph Smith, Jr., the founder of the LDS church, and the Monument to Trade, which features a larger-than-life-size statue of Child himself wearing brick pants and surrounded by masonry tools.

Unlike other outsider-art practitioners, Child was more the architect of his creations than he was the actual builder. He relied heavily on his son-in-law Bryant Higgs, his son Tom Child, Grant Fetzer (one of his neighbors), and a renowned local sculptor, Maurice Brooks, whom he hired to create the sculptural works. (Brooks employed a unique technique for sculpting the stones that involved use of an oxyacetylene torch.) Child also used other laborers, some of whom were reportedly ward members on church welfare. Many of the stones were extremely large—one weighed in at seventy-eight tons—and required special equipment both to be collected and to be set in place. As might be expected of a retired mason, Child was particular about the stones he would use. He did considerable scouting around and had stones brought in from various canyons along the Wasatch Front. 25

Unlike many outsider artists, Child was very much a community insider. He was a well-respected masonry contractor who had constructed dozens of prominent buildings in the area, including the Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Church in Salt Lake City, Ogden High School, the Bushnell Hospital (later known as the Intermountain Indian School) in Brigham City, and buildings on the University of Utah and Brigham Young University campuses. He served on various boards and committees and co-directed the Days of ’47 pioneer celebration during its first ten years of existence. 26

Most notable for its direct relationship to Gilgal’s religious message was Child’s extensive involvement in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He served as bishop of the Tenth Ward for nineteen years and as a member of the Park Stake High Council for eighteen years. His garden, which also abutted the Tenth Ward chapel property, may have been a private depiction of his religion, but its overall message was entirely consistent with church teachings. Although Child operated without the blessing or support of either his home ward or LDS church headquarters, he intended the garden to be an instructional tool, especially for young people. He established a sequence of presentation, building from one topic to another, and would use musical accompaniment (through a phonograph, a reed organ, or family members singing hymns) at certain locations along the tour. 27

Monument to Trade. This statue includes a representation of Child, a retired masonry contractor, wearing pants made of bricks, and building trade implements. Roger Roper, photographer. Courtesy of the author.

Child stands next to a statue of himself within the Monument to Trade at Gilgal Garden in Salt Lake City. Utah State Historic Preservation Office.

Some of Child’s neighbors described him as “nutty” to take on such a project as Gilgal, but they indulged him perhaps because he was a long-time community leader. 28 Child acknowledged that, “You may think I am a nut, but I hope I have aroused your thinking and curiosity.” The Tenth Ward newsletter supported his efforts, as indicated in a 1950 article: “Brother Child has carried his skills as a builder into his home and yard and has made a hobby of depicting scenes and ideas of the scriptures in stone. At the present time he is constructing several monuments in stone that deserve state-wide attention and should be preserved for future generations.” 29

Just so, thousands of visitors from Utah, the United States, and foreign countries have visited and enjoyed Gilgal Garden. After Child’s death, the neighboring Fetzer family owned and maintained the garden, opening it to the public on Sunday afternoons for many years. In 2000, after a threat of demolition to make way for something more profitable and less vandal-prone, Salt Lake City acquired the garden from the Fetzer family. It is currently maintained and operated as a city park under the care of the Friends of Gilgal Garden. The garden is identified as a singular feature and “contributing resource” in the Salt Lake City Eastside Historic District that was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1996. 30

Bottle House, Teasdale

In 1925, Tora Selander, a Swedish twenty-something, was traveling alone in southern Utah. The vistas from Bryce Canyon inspired her—as they do most visitors—but her vision was more purposeful than those of the average tourist. She determined that someday she would find a home out in that vast landscape. “That is where I am going when I am ready to settle down. Somewhere in that country I will find a permanent camp.” 31

It took a while, but in 1956 Selander and her Connecticut-born husband, John Nelson, bought the abandoned schoolhouse in Teasdale and set out to not only rehabilitate the building but also to create a museum. It would display their collection of artifacts from around the world, including an extensive trove of southwest Native American blankets and other items. The story of their collecting adventures was an epic in its own way, but that was only their first chapter in Teasdale.

Their first museum burned, apparently along with many of the artifacts, and John died in 1963. By the early 1960s, however, Tora was working on a new project: a structure that served as both house and museum and was built of salvaged materials, including thousands of beer and seltzer bottles collected from the local dump. It took her ten years, according to her son, Pete Nelson.

The bottle house created by Tora Selander Nelson in Teasdale, Utah. Cory Jensen, photographer.

Detail of Nelson’s house, showing her construction techniques and the make of individual scavenged glass bottles. Cory Jensen, photographer.

Tora found logs and dragged them home behind her car to create the basic structure. The bottles, laid bottoms-out and set in mud mortar, formed the infill material for the walls. This homemade structure became her longtime dwelling and the repository for her new collection of artifacts. The bottle walls were an attraction to the local youth, however, who delighted in shooting at them. As a result, she ended up covering most of the walls with wood. Tora Selander Nelson died in 1988 in Richfield, just short of her ninety-second birthday. 32

Nelson’s house still stands, abandoned, although sections of the bottle walls are still visible. It embodies the creative use of found- and recycled-objects that is common to many outsider artists. Layered on top of Nelson’s creativity was her passion for collecting and sharing cultural artifacts. In a 1958 Salt Lake Tribune article, she explained herself: “What I am trying to do here is bring out appreciation of beauty in cultures not our own, geographical awareness and historical perspective. Together, these things help one to escape from the too-narrow personal groove. I can think of no development more important to the time in which we live.” 33

Pizy Alldredge’s Yard Art, Oak City

Mervyn Jay Alldredge, “Piz” or “Pizy” as he was known, created a distinctive collection of figures from common, often discarded, household and farm implements and materials. A self-taught welder, he worked many years for the Union Pacific Railroad. Like many other outsider artists, Pizy didn’t start his creative endeavors until after his retirement, around 1970. Alldredge, who was born in 1910, had also worked at farming and tending livestock on the family homestead in Oak City, Millard County, and he even worked for a time as a cowboy in Nevada and California. He served for fifty years as a weather reporter for the U.S. Weather Bureau, for which he received statewide recognition. Alldredge also served as a scoutmaster, town constable, and as a member of the town board. 34 He was a community insider, but his artistic creations fit comfortably within the realm of self-taught outsider art.

Like his father, the town blacksmith, Alldredge found satisfaction in heating and bending metal, although for artistic rather than practical purposes later in his life. Until his death in 2001, his home in Oak City was surrounded by his creations. He also made dozens of smaller, shelf-size figures, but his yard art was the most visible and demonstrative expression of his ingenuity. His house was a drive-by attraction that locals shared with their out-of-town guests.

Alldredge began welding pieces of scrap metal together after seeing a resemblance between a donkey’s head and a discarded combine part. This hobby of creating folk art from salvaged materials dominated his thirty-year retirement. His work depicted scenes of frontier life, ranch work, community dances, storybook characters, and life-size human and animal figures. Alldredge won numerous blue ribbons at the Millard County Fair over the years, and the Utah Arts Council exhibited some of his miniatures in folk art shows in Salt Lake City and in statewide traveling shows. In 1991, his work was among a collection of ten artists from around the country whose works were featured at the Arts Festival in Atlanta, which drew some 2.5 million visitors. 35

Yard art outside the Oak City home of Mervyn Jay “Pizy” Alldredge, as photographed in 1993. Alldredge was a selftaught welder who created whimsical sculptures from farm and household materials. Roger Roper, photographer. Courtesy of the author.

After Alldredge’s death in May 2001, his yard art was removed and distributed among his family members, who had a great appreciation for it. A descendent acquired his house soon after his death, remodeling and upgrading it. Later, that remodeled house was replaced with an entirely new one. Still, a remnant Pizy artifact remains in the yard, as of my latest drive-by sighting.

Ralphael’s Church/School, Salt Lake City

The best-known active outsider art installation in Utah currently is probably Ralph (Ralphael) Plescia’s creations in and around his building at 1324 South State Street in Salt Lake City. 36 After Plescia obtained the building from his father around 1970, he started creating his view of Biblically inspired beliefs—with some significant interpretive twists—and he has continued that endeavor to the present. Ralphael’s Church/ School is one of those captivating worlds that rivals outsider art expressions anywhere in terms of its personal vision and expression.

A number of recent articles and documentaries, most of which are readily available online, delve into the details of Plescia’s beliefs and the physical expressions of those beliefs that he has created. 37 Plescia himself gives tours of the place on occasion, providing insights and explanations along with commentary that is as organic and intriguing as his creations. 38 The plaque on the front of the building may serve as the best summary of what this is all about: “Ralphael’s Church School Dedicated to Teach about the Heavenly Mother and God, Creator and Jesus.”

The exterior of the Church/School created by Ralphael Plescia, on 1324 South State Street in Salt Lake City. Plescia began this massive work around 1970, after inheriting the building from his father. Roger Roper, photographer. Courtesy of the author.

The building consists of a three-level labyrinth of rooms jammed with sculptures, writings, art, and a number of features, materials, half-finished projects, and stored items that reflect Plescia’s multiple interests and priorities (including some vintage automobiles). The main floor features a rich array of pieces, the most captivating of which is the sculpture of a larger-than-life Eve reaching up for forbidden fruit from a deep nether-region cutout in the floor with a threatening dragon in pursuit. This emergence of a dynamic sculpture from an unexpected main-floor void is arresting and difficult to turn away from. It seems easy to view the basement level as a sort of hell, the main floor as our world, and the upper floor as heaven. But nothing in this visually compelling worldview lends itself to such a convenient interpretation. Plescia’s hand-excavated, basement-level caverns and passageways include pools of natural ground water, limited lighting, be-careful bridges and steps, and skirting pathways. This somber and sometimes claustrophobic underworld is filled with figures and references from the Bible and elsewhere, some readily decipherable and some not. The upper floors are decorated with various architectural and symbolic elements in various degrees of completion, including a ten-foot high banner of Christ’s anguished face. These upper spaces include pop-up skylights that extend above the roofline, bringing in added, perhaps heavenly, illumination. A peaceful rear courtyard offers an open-air, natural counterpoint to all of the interior creations, but even this area has various features that follow some of the same themes and designs from the inside.

Images from the interior of Ralphael’s Church/School that depict Eve trying to escape a dragon, as she reaches for fruit. Roger Roper, photographer. Courtesy of the author.

In recent years, Plescia has expressed an interest in seeing that his work lives on. He would like to have someone take over the studio after him. 39 But he is skeptical. “The reason I don’t think it will survive is because what I am doing here is not something you can make money on. I’m not trying to seek anything other than knowledge. . . . There’s a 98 percent chance that one day none of this will be here.” 40 Others have also expressed concerns about its long-term fate. Our office, the State Historic Preservation Office, and other government and nonprofit cultural institutions have received numerous inquiries in recent years about what can be done to preserve this cultural treasure. Unfortunately, none of us have the answer. Our programs and funding are structured in such a way that they don’t easily accommodate outlier installations such as this. Such has been the dilemma of many of Utah’s outsider-art properties over the years. Their uniqueness often works against them. They are multifaceted and a bit quirky, not readily suited to standard solutions. But perhaps through a coordinated effort and a little creativity we can find a way to embrace them, such as was done with Gilgal Garden.

Whether this property survives and meets the criteria for historic site designation (such as through the National Register of Historic Places) remains to be seen. After all, under National Register rules, there is a fifty-year cooling-off period before long-term cultural “significance” can be properly assessed, though there is some flexibility in that rule for properties of “exceptional significance.” 41 But, contrary to popular belief, National Register designation provides no real protection. Salt Lake City could perhaps squeeze this onto its landmark list, which would provide some degree of protection. A preservation easement could also be helpful, but that requires a qualified organization to agree to take on that responsibility. Tools such as these, however, are far from what is needed to assure long-term survival of outsider-art installations. They need day-to-day caretakers for maintenance, champions for securing financial and community support, and visionaries equal to the task of carrying forward the cultural messages of their creators.

For more than 130 years and counting, Utah’s architectural and cultural landscape has been enriched by outsider art. Though some of this “folk art” is unique to Utah in terms of subject matter, it reflects themes and trends that transcend local culture. The creators and their work reflect tendencies that have played out elsewhere—both nationally and internationally—by other visionary artists. A muse has always stirred within some of us to create privately envisioned expressions of aspirations, memories, and convictions.

We cannot always describe or interpret these creations in straightforward ways. Yet more important than fully understanding or interpreting these cultural artifacts today is the need to preserve them for tomorrow. What seems eccentric to one generation may be highly valued and culturally significant to the next. We should be careful stewards of our predecessors’ works. Outsider art just might reveal something important about the human condition that we are blind to in our focus on the practicalities of daily life.

Notes

1 Roger Cardinal, “Outsider Art and the Autistic Creator,” Philosophical Transactions: Biological Sciences 364, no. 1522 (2009): 1459; Daniel Wojcik, “Outsider Art, Vernacular Traditions, Trauma, and Creativity,” Western Folklore 67, no. 2/3 (2008): 179–81.

2 The titles of books on this subject also shed light on the various perspectives from which scholars have studies these creative works. Key background sources include the following: John Beardsley, Gardens of Revelation: Environments by Visionary Artists (New York: Abbeville Press, 1995); Michael D. Hall and Eugene W. Metcalf, Jr., eds., with Roger Cardinal, The Artist Outsider: Creativity and the Boundaries of Culture (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1994); Barbara Brackman and Cathy Dwigans, eds., Backyard Visionaries: Grassroots Art in the Midwest (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 1999); Lisa Stone and Jim Zanzi, Sacred Spaces and Other Places: A Guide to Grottos and Sculptural Environments in the Upper Midwest (Chicago: The School of the Art Institute of Chicago Press, 1993); John Maizels, Raw Creation: Outsider Art and Beyond (London: Phaidon, 1996); Lucienne Peiry, Art Brut: The Origins of Outsider Art (New York: Random House, 2001); Anthony Petullo, Self-taught and Outsider Art: The Anthony Petullo Collection (Champaign: University of Illinois Press, 2001).

3 Various newspaper articles and city directory listings also referred to Anders John Miller as Andrew Julius Miller, Andrew J. Miller, Andrew G. Miller, and Andres J. Miller. The terms “the Old Curiosity Shop” and “Crazy House” are used in the captions and descriptions of the only known photographs of his house, along with other sources cited in this article. See “Misc. Residences—The Crazy House,” Utah State Historical Society photograph collection. The four images are undated, but they are most likely from the early 1890s and appear to be from about the same time, within a few years at least, based on the size of the trees in front. Two of the photographs, taken at different times based on photo details, are credited to Sainsbury and Johnson, Photographers, who were partners between approximately1889 and 1893. See Daniel Davis, “‘Appreciating a Pretty Shoulder’: The Risqué Photographs of Charles Ellis Johnson,” Utah Historical Quarterly 74, no. 2 (2006): 134. According to the city directories, Miller was still living at 277 S. 800 East in 1893, so these photos are apparently of Miller’s first house.

4 “Aged Recluse Goes to Join Lost Lover,” Deseret News, February 5, 1913, 12; “Funeral of Andres Miller,” Deseret News, February 7, 1913, 9.

5 “Funeral of Andres Miller,” Deseret News, February 7, 1913, 9; Francis W. Kirkham, Harold Lundstrom, Daughters of Utah Pioneers, Salt Lake Company, Tales of a Triumphant People: A History of Salt Lake County, Utah, 1847–1900 (Salt Lake City: International Society Daughters of Utah Pioneers, 1995), 295–96. Another account describes Miller as wearing “heavy black gloves, even in tropical weather, because he believes the righteous must be clothed in black,” (Salt Lake Tribune, July 28, 1904, 9).

6 Salt Lake Tribune, July 28, 1904, 9.

7 Deseret News, February 5, 1913, 12.

8 “Court Notes,” Salt Lake Tribune, July 28, 1904, 9; “Miller’s Tender Vigil Is Ended,” Salt Lake Herald Republican, July 29, 1904; “May Be Cured of Mania,” Salt Lake Telegram, July 28, 1904.

9 “Miller Is Released; Friends May Act,” Salt Lake Telegram, August 1, 1904; “City and Neighborhood,” Salt Lake Tribune, August 3, 1904.

10 See especially Wojcik, “Outsider Art.”

11 See primarily Deseret News, February 5, 1913, 12; and Kirkham, et al, Tales of a Triumphant People, 295–96.

12 “Died,” Salt Lake Tribune, February 5, 1913, 12.

13 Kirkham, et al, Tales of a Triumphant People, 295.

14 There is a gap in the city directory coverage between 1893, when Miller was last listed at 277 S. 800 East, and 1898, when he first shows up at 343 S. 1100 East.

15 Kirkham, et al, Tales of a Triumphant People, 295.

16 Kirkham, et al, Tales of a Triumphant People, 296.

17 Deseret News, February 5, 1913, 12.

18 Robert Dudek, “The King of the World: The True Story Behind the Curious Sandstone Carving and the Man Who Created It,” Stinking Desert Gazette, November 1986, 67.

19 “Police Free King, Goats and Horses,” Ogden Standard- Examiner, November 14, 1935, 24; “‘King of America’ Arrested at Ogden,” Moab Times-Independent, November 21, 1935, 1; “‘King’ Taken to Hospital,” Ogden Standard-Examiner, December 24, 1935, 12; P. F. McFarland, “A King Was My Guest,” Ogden Standard-Examiner, May 17, 1936, 19; “Patient Wields Knife; Attendant Severely Injured,” Provo Evening Herald, October 5, 1937, 1; Utah, Death and Military Death Certificates, 1904–1961, s.v. “Harlan Andrew,” Certificate of Death, accessed October 15, 2019, ancestry.com.

20 1940 United States Federal Census, Millard County, Utah, roll m-t0627–04214, page 1A, William Van de Vanter; and U.S., World War I Draft Registration Cards, 1917–1918, s.v. “William Edward Vandevanter,” both accessed October 15, 2019, ancestry.com.

21 “Delta’s Newest Pleasure Palace Opens,” Millard County (Utah) Chronicle, May 6, 1926, 1.

22 “Temple Replica Exhibited,” Millard County (Utah) Chronicle, April 2, 1936, 1.

23 A thorough history of Van’s Hall is documented in the National Register of Historic Places nomination for the building that was prepared in 1994 to 1995. NP- Gallery Digital Asset Management System, s.v. “Van’s Hall,” accessed September 16, 2019, npgallery.nps.gov /GetAsset/84fec927-f3b7-4966-b8ff-256b3d9e8b52.

24 “About,” Gilgal Sculpture Garden, accessed September 23, 2019, gilgalgarden.org/about-gilgal-sculpture-garden/; Ursula M. Brinkmann Pimentel, Gilgal: A Sculpture Garden in Salt Lake City (Salt Lake City: Associated Art Historians, 1996).

25 Pimental, Gilgal.

26 Pimental, Gilgal, 2.

27 Richard W. Jackson (1915–2010), interview by Roger Roper, August 8, 2002; Earl Gilmore, interview by Roger Roper, July 9, 2002. Gilmore was the Tenth Ward historian in 2002. He confirmed that the garden tours were scripted, used as a tool for teaching (especially the youth), and included phonograph musical accompaniments. He also observed that “Bishop Child was a doer,” and that he was “someone who believed in things strongly.” He further recalled that Bishop Child intervened with firemen in order to save the signature stained glass windows in his beloved Tenth Ward Chapel when it caught fire. The firemen wanted to break out the windows in order to fight the fire inside, but Child rushed up with an axe and told them in no uncertain terms that he would cut their firehoses with his axe if they attempted it. The windows were spared. The Tenth Ward Chapel is located on the same block as both Gilgal Garden and Thomas Child’s home.

28 Jackson, interview. Jackson’s family moved into the Tenth Ward in 1933, and the garden was directly behind their house at 763 East 500 South. He noted that although some neighbors thought Thomas Child was “nutty” because of the Gilgal project, most had no real problem with him. Jackson described Child as a “delightful individual” who was “community-minded” and “very knowledgeable on religious matters.”

29 “The Family Portrait,” Tenth Ward Newsletter, March 1950; Tenth Ward Manuscript History and Historical Reports, 1849–1983, LR 9051 2, LDS Church History Library, Salt Lake City, Utah.

30 NPGallery Digital Asset Management System, s.v. “Salt Lake City Eastside Historic District (Boundary Increase), accessed October 9, 2019, npgallery.nps.gov/GetAsset /7c5214ea-5246–4d62-a2eb-40c3623f7308.

31 Gail Smith, “Artistry of the Ages,” Salt Lake Tribune, October 12, 1958, H3.

32 Kenneth Williams, personal communication with the author, September 20, 2019.The Williams were friends and neighbors with Nelson during her years in Teasdale.

33 Smith, “Artistry of the Ages,” H3.

34 “M. J. ‘Piz,’” Salt Lake Tribune, May 13, 2001, A14.

35 “Art Notes: Utah Folk Artist’s Nuts-and-Bolts Creations Going to Atlanta,” Salt Lake Tribune, September 8, 1991; Utah State of the Arts (Ogden: Meridian International, 1993), 140–41.

36 Plescia’s home exhibits similar features and design motifs that he has added over the years on the exterior and in the yard.

37 Recent media coverage of Plescia includes The Gospel According to Ralphael, produced by VideoWest, September 7, 2016, accessed September 26, 2019, radiowest .kuer.org/term/videowest; Stephen Dark, “The Fixer,” City Weekly, August 17, 2016; Glen Warchol, “Compelled to Create—Ralphael Plescia’s Biblical Inspirations,” Salt Lake Magazine, February 8, 2017; Torben Bernhard and Travis Low, “This Obsessive Utah Artist Spent a Half-Century Building a Personal Shrine,” Narratively, December 6, 2016, accessed September 28, 2019, narratively.com.

38 The author was part of two-hour tour with Ralphael Plescia on May 5, 2017, sponsored by Atlas Obscura.

39 Dark, “The Fixer.”

40 Bernhard and Low, “This Obsessive Utah Artist.”

41 U.S. Department of the Interior, National Register Bulletin, How to Apply the National Register Criteria for Evaluation (1990; rev. 1995), accessed October 25, 2019, nps.gov/nr/publications/bulletins/pdfs/nrb15.pdf.