Baltimore’s quirkiest museum is thinking bigger than ever

When you hear a first-time visitor is planning a trip to Baltimore, certain itinerary ideas jump to mind: Cheer on the Orioles at Camden Yards. See the rain forest at the National Aquarium. And check out the American Visionary Art Museum, the mosaic-tiled shrine to artists without formal training.

For museum director Ellen Owens, that kind of recommendation to outsiders is priceless. But the flip side presents a tricky challenge. How do you reinvigorate the residents in your own backyard about a decades-old institution?

“The ways that it’s been promoted has been a lot of like, ‘I always invite my out-of-town guests here,’ which we are so grateful for,” said Owens, who became AVAM director roughly a year ago. “But we’d like to be more intentional about the practice of sharing out who we are.”

Under her leadership, the Federal Hill museum is trying to cultivate stronger local ties in new ways, including targeted marketing for the first time and collaborations with fellow Baltimore organizations to engage the community beyond its walls — all while shoring up AVAM’s financial future.

Owens, who made her name in the industry with stops at New York’s Castellani Art Museum and Philadelphia’s Magic Gardens, knows there’s a lot of work to do to grow AVAM’s $4 million endowment. “Certainly, that is not the size we would like it to be,” she said.

“A lot of our peers here have a pretty large endowment,” Owens said. “We do not, and that’s something that I would like to build so that way our daily operations can be taken care of while we’re really dreaming big, thinking about how we are truly the nation’s center for outsider visionary art.”

For decades, AVAM has stood out among local cultural institutions for its deeply personal paintings, sculptures and mixed-media works made by artists with no formal training. Collectively, it’s an unabashedly quirky, often surreal reflection of its hometown, driven by the idea that anyone can be creative.

But in 2023 AVAM publicly stumbled, parting ways with director Jenenne Whitfield only a year after she was hired to succeed the only other person to hold the job: museum founder Rebecca Hoffberger.

The abrupt breakup was AVAM’s board “exercising its responsibility, oversight and fiduciary responsibility,” museum spokesperson Gregory Tucker told The Banner at the time.

Whitfield’s exit raised eyebrows in the arts community; BmoreArt executive director and Banner contributor Cara Ober called the decision “a glaring misstep” in a critical op-ed.

​Holly Gudelsky Stone, treasurer of AVAM’s board, said recently that Owens — who grew the Magic Gardens’ operating budget from $160,000 to nearly $1 million in four years — has a more established track record of raising money at other museums than Whitfield did.

“Maybe you could say we picked more wisely this time,” Stone said.

Asked what she saw as the biggest challenges facing AVAM, Whitfield said in a statement: “In a world marked by profound social and cultural change, museums must be bold and elevate their practices to become more consciously responsive to the needs, voices, and lived experiences of the communities they serve.”

Whitfield, who has returned to her native Detroit, said her tenure at AVAM “became more of an experiment than a genuine opportunity to fully apply my experience and leadership.”

“Building relationships, establishing trust and demonstrating fundraising capacity take time, and I do not believe I was afforded a fair opportunity to do so,” said Whitfield, who added she wishes AVAM continued success.

Following Hoffberger — who opened AVAM’s doors at 800 Key Highway with her late then-husband, LeRoy Hoffberger, in November 1995 — was always going to be a tall task for any hire.

As founding director, her fingerprints are embedded throughout the 1.1-acre campus, which has expanded over the years to include the educational Jim Rouse Visionary Center, outdoor sculpture plazas and a wildflower meditation garden.

Under her leadership, AVAM also became known for its annual “mega exhibition” centered on a specific theme (this year’s is “Fantastic Realities: Truth Stranger Than Fiction”) and its free outdoor movie series, Flicks From the Hill.

The museum’s most beloved contribution to city culture is arguably the Kinetic Sculpture Race, a signature spring event that encapsulates Baltimore’s do-it-yourself tenacity and creativity through large, human-powered, amphibious works of art such as Fifi, AVAM’s 15-foot pink poodle mascot.

Hoffberger, now retired and developing a TV series concept, is proud of her legacy but said Owens is better suited to lead AVAM’s next era, when it will need to bolster its footing from a financial and administrative perspective.

“She’s given me enormous peace because she’s about the hardest-working director of a museum I’ve ever seen,” Hoffberger said. “In many ways, she outworks me in that I never had much tolerance for lots of meetings. It’s not my style.”

Stone said Owens immediately spearheaded a broad strategy for AVAM’s future with its staff and board. The five-year plan, finalized in June, focuses on increased marketing, developing exhibitions, strengthening the donor base and adding members to its board, Owens said.

“Everybody wants to make more out of it, but I think Ellen is the person who has more of the tools to really move the museum forward,” Stone said.

AVAM has 14 full-time staff members, a number Owens wants to grow “responsibly over the next few years.”

She’s also interested in forging relationships with residents who may never have been to AVAM. Owens is exploring collaborations with city groups such as the Cherry Hill Cares Campaign, co-founded by soul singer Navasha Daya, to introduce young people to the museum.

They’ve also partnered with Global Refuge, the Otterbein-based nonprofit that serves refugee children and families around the world.

Progress “will take time,” Owens said. “Some of these collaborations will be critical to getting to that, but the bricks are being laid in place right now for those types of things to happen.”

AVAM also plans to host a public on-site restaurant again, she said. The café area, which once housed the restaurants Encantada and Mr. Rain’s Fun House, has been rentable for private events in recent times. Details are to come, she said, with the restaurant likely opening in phases. Owens wants to use visitor data to guide more decisions.

“We’re a place with a lot of heart and lots of creativity — and we’ll still be that place — but it doesn’t mean that we can’t learn a lot from what our visitors are telling us,” Owens said.

Although finding funding from individual donors and corporations is challenging for any museum, Owens said, she’s ultimately encouraged for AVAM’s future after her first year in the job.

Early attendance numbers are positive. From January to June, attendance increased 15% compared to last year’s same calendar window — 26,003 visitors, up from 22,595, according to Owens.

She credited the uptick, in part, to working with local nonprofits designed to boost Baltimore tourism. They include Waterfront Partnership, which has amplified marketing around AVAM’s activities, and Visit Baltimore, which helped place AVAM billboards on SEPTA trains in the Philadelphia region.

Still, her goal is to make AVAM feel like more of a regular presence in Marylanders’ lives.

“If you’re not a museumgoer, or even if you are, you’ll find an experience on-site that is powerful for you, and we’re working to amplify that,” Owens said.

There’s room to grow, but AVAM still has the allure to pull in locals and strangers alike.

Deb Sica of San Francisco researched museums for her recent trip to Baltimore. Only one made her can’t-miss list.

“This one was obviously the one we needed to go to,” Sica said recently inside AVAM’s gift shop. “The other ones — not that they weren’t impressive — but this one was incredibly eclectic.”