Baltimore, Md.: 'Uncle Fun' looks for punch lines

BALTIMORE, Md.-- The American Visionary Art Museum, or AVAM, has a 55-foot tall whirligig, sculptures of yarn and a mammoth depiction of Baltimore native Divine, popularized in John Waters' films, such as "Hairspray." The place has a sense of wonder.

Of course I would find Ted Frankel here.

Itï's like finding a whoopee in my cushion.

Chicagoans know Frankel as the founder of the Uncle Fun gag store, 1338 W. Belmont, and Paper Boy, across the street at 1351 W. Belmont. Uncle Fun has been visited by John Malkovich, Pee-wee Herman and the gang from the Oprah Winfrey show.

Frankel now operates the Sideshow gift store in the ambitious museum along Baltimore's scenic inner harbor. The store, which celebrates its fourth anniversary on Tuesday, has gags and toys that expand on the Uncle Fun motif. But unlike his Chicago locations, Frankel sells original visionary art from Baltimore and other outposts across the world like Haiti, where he was headed on a buying trip after our dinner at Cork, 1026 S. Charles St.

The museum opened Thanksgiving 1995. Its mission statement defines visionary art as "art produced by self-taught individuals, usually without formal training, whose works arise from an innate personal vision that revels foremost in the creative act itself."

That pretty much sums up the school bus encrusted with beads, crystals and plastic swans parked next to the museum's main building. The bus was created by former Chicagoan and self-taught artist Nancy Josephson (who is married to musician David Bromberg). The bus/gallery moves. Sometimes. It's outlined by a mosaic wall decorated by high school and at-risk kids with donated broken glass. Baltimore is the home base of Bromo Seltzer and Noxzema skin cream.

"I love the idea of visionary because we all dream," said museum founder and director Rebecca Alban Hoffberger. She likes to cite Anglo-Irish author Jonathan Swift, who said, "Vision is the art of seeing things invisible."

Like my 401k.

In 2003, Frankel visited his friend Josephson, who'd relocated from Chicago to Delaware. The trip included a stop at the AVAM, which has more than 4,000 items in its permanent collection.

"I had never been to Baltimore," Frankel said. "Nancy introduced me to Rebecca. She said it was nice to meet me and that was it.

"About a month later I got a call from Rebecca," he added. "½She said, 'You;re the one.' I said, 'The one what?' She wanted me to open a store at the museum. I said, 'You don't even know me.'"

Hoffberger assured Frankel she was very intuitive. But Frankel was very established in Chicago.

He told her he￯﾿ﾽd lived in Chicago for 30 years and wasn￯﾿ﾽt going to move. But he agreed to return for a visit. Hoffberger took him to lunch.

"Baltimore was everything I loved," he said. "The next day I bought a house. I didn't know anything. I thought Baltimore was on an ocean. It's close."

Frankel is now close to a collection that spells f-u-n 24/7. Hoffberger estimated that Sideshow contains more than 6,000 items.

Travel & Leisure magazine recently listed AVAM as one of 10 places to see before you￯﾿ﾽre 10.

One museum piece gave me goosebumps.

Patrick Culinane made the "The Monkey Bar" diorama in 1914 and 1915 while doing prison time in Charlestown, Mass. The glass diorama features 75 miniature brown monkeys playing pool, craps, roulette and other misdeeds that might land you behind bars. Each one-inch monkey sits on a piece of furniture carefully carved from a peach pit.

When a manager of a local Ford factory visited the prison, Culinane requested that his diorama be sent to Henry Ford. Culinane was a fan of the automaker. As the story goes, Ford was so impressed with the work he arranged for Culinane's prison release and got him a job at a Ford factory. Seven years later Culinane was married with three children and ran his own roofing business. Thatï's how art can inspire.

In March, the AVAM honored 88-year-old White House correspondent Helen Thomas at its "All Faith Beautiful"gala. An autographed photo of her sitting in (former Chicagoan) Mr. Imagination's throne hangs behind the gift shop's counter.

The Chicago connection remains strong at AVAM -- even down to the spare oak cabinets Frankel had shipped in from Uncle Fun.

"A lot of Chicagoans are surprised when they walk in and see me," he said.

Sideshow is defined by a whimsical dance and long punch lines. Does Frankel purchase things that inspire him or might inspire customers to buy?

"I buy things that excite me," he answered. "If I'm stuck with them I'm happy. Unlike Chicago, I have artwork here that sells for $3,600. But even here, I'm famous for people spending $10 and being able to have a really good time.

"I collect and buy in a spiritual, visual way," he continued. "And it fits into different categories. I always come through the visual end and how it makes me feel. That's what the visionary museum is. It's that outlook on art where people don't have blocks. Maybe because I like the childlike approach to things I don't look for art done by specific people. It doesn't matter if they have training or if they don't have training. No barriers."

I tend to run in some cynical circles. I've known Frankel since 1986 when I wrote about Goodie's, the precursor to Uncle Fun on North Halsted Street. It was refreshing to be in the company of someone who was so delightfully grounded, so positive about life.

"I'm going to do what makes me happy," he said. "If I'm happy, all the people around me should be happy. And if they're not, they can find other racetracks, other places to go."