Only in Dorchester, The Museum of Bad Art
The Museum of Bad Art sits inside of an unusual but fitting home — the Dorchester Brewing Co. Here, you can grab a local beer and enjoy a $10 pulled pork “Sammie” while walking yourself through some intentionally (or unintentionally) “bad” local art.
The outside of the building is unassuming, but inside, it’s warm and welcoming. I stepped into what felt like an old warehouse turned trendy alehouse and was immediately greeted by the bartender. At noon, the space is occupied by only a few patrons, drinking and enjoying classic barbecue dishes.
I headed toward the back, where rows of picnic-style tables filled the space, and took in the art on display. True to the museum’s name, there’s definitely some “bad” art here. Of course, “bad” is subjective, but it’s a refreshing twist on the art we usually see on display in galleries. One piece that caught my attention was Mental Load by Nathalie Jaguin.
The wall text reads, “According to the artist, this painting is a representation of the ‘green plant’ women overwhelmed by her 3 children and her husband.” The description continues explaining that all her family seems to care about is food, while her petals—engraved with symbols of knives, poison, and broken hearts—represent her overwhelmed thoughts. There’s a visceral anger in this family portrait: sharp teeth, blood dripping from the mother’s breasts, and children’s heads sprouting from her green, plant-like stem. Visually intense and emotionally charged, this painting isn’t really “bad” at all. It might be unsettling, but it certainly isn’t lacking in what makes art…art.
A staircase leads you to a second floor, where another bar awaits. Lining the stairwell are more artworks, including Elvis Descending a Staircase, a playful twist on Marcel Duchamp’s Nude Descending a Staircase. Painted in 2009, this piece depicts three phases of Elvis’s career: from his cocky younger self with his chin held high to a caricature of his later years, flashing a peace sign in a sparkling blue and black scene. The humor is obvious in the plump characturization of the iconic star, but the painting also serves as a nod to Elvis’s rise and fall, reminding us that fame doesn’t protect against a downward spiral.
While it might not be “high” art, it’s funny and clever—qualities that sometimes don’t get the credit they deserve in the art world.
Out of everything I saw, these two pieces stood out; one for its humor, the other for its haunting intensity. There’s plenty more to discover, laugh at, and talk about with friends. Entry is free and it is certainly worth a trip outside of the city.
