Black Sheep Drawings

Essay by Rachel Daichendt

Farm animals have long been a staple in landscape art, but hyper-realistic artist Vicki Walsh seems to have turned these background characters in academic art to light case studies that are more in-line with portraiture than a dull bucolic scene. In the eye-catching, eight canvas, large black sheep collection Walsh is graciously engaging, drawing you in for closer inspection with the wide-eyed creatures. In what appears to be a character narrative, each canvas portrays a different side or angle of the sheep. In playful form, Walsh uses oil paint and graphite pencil to carefully layer and construct the intimacies of the sheep and the tendencies of nature. Easily connections are made as images of the nursery rhyme, Baa Baa Black Sheep, or high school English class, in which Orwell’s Animal Farm engages your analogical senses of equality, freedom, and happiness. Reminding us of emotional human connections we share with animals perfectly frames the true story of these sheep. 

With an admittedly autobiographical tone, Walsh does not stray too far from these suggestions. The black sheep as both symbol of marginalization and a jovial break from the past, invades each canvas, telling a story underpinning the “black sheep” mentality. Historically, “black sheep” holds a two-fold meaning. The literal version, stemming from the actual black fleece of a sheep that is uncommon, standing out from the white as well as not being worth as much money; to the generalized informal acceptance of a “black sheep” as a disfavored or outside member of a group. Walsh harkens past relationships giving her black sheep an engaging storyline of disparity, conscious effort, and resilience. The animated details of white eye lashes, buzzing flies, and warm to cool tones infused in the sky allow an unfolding in narrative. 

Building upon specific titles that inspired Walsh before sketching, the work I’m Not Ewe portrays our subject (black sheep) as an outsider, near the edge of the frame , while the others (3 white sheep) stare back, distanced and unemotional. The side eye the black sheep is giving to the viewer gives the power back to itself, a sort of awareness of being on the outside and deciding whether to respond or not. The canvases, then, begin to tell a story as we watch our protagonist jump around, lie on the ground, wear an Elizabethan collar, and even stand tall and proud in the final image. This sheep, chest puffing out, in No Fly Zone, lets the annoyances of the flies go unnoticed. Perhaps we allow ourselves to give this sheep its time, even though she is the “black sheep,” this outsider becomes confidant, aware of previous unacceptance, proud even. Whether looked upon as a single work or a complete narrative, Walsh’s sheep jump off the canvas and engage playfully in a stark and sensitive take on the poignancy of an outsider turned creative self-healer.   

Rachel Daichendt is an Art History professor at Point Loma Nazarene University. She has a M.A. In Art History, Theory, and Criticism and is currently pursuing her PhD in Philosophy and Aesthetics at The Institute for Doctoral Studies in the Visual Arts.