Archives for posts with tag: feministart

17 works by women photographers lent by the National Museum of Women in the Arts reflect the diverse, complex, and often shared experience of women worldwide.

Lying on a bed in a green dress, staring at the viewer with twirled hair styled and placed in a halo around her head, Daniela Rossell’s ‘Medusa’ is a better, more substantial precursor to Kendall Jenner’s most liked instagram pic. There is power here, and vulnerability and intimacy which, shockingly, is not present on Kendall’s gram.
Hellen van Meene’s photographs are like illustrations for a book of fairy tales. The text described them as looking natural but actually planned meticulously. To me they do look painstakingly curated and posed. To me there is nothing natural about the props and scenarios. Each subject seems to have an unclear but definite story – one girl is a bubblegum princess in a tower, another girl dead from a curse, a third girl blows magic dust to cast her spell. In this exhibition on the female body and the female gaze the fairytale element is unsurprising – fairytale women have very definite roles set out for them. Here there is some discussion of how real girls and women feel – bubblegum princess is bored, and the girl clutching the feather heart looks more angry and sad than happily in love.

Nan Goldin’s ‘Self-Portrait in Kimono with Brian, NYC’ has a melancholy intimacy about it. Partially clad on a bed in a rosy dawn or dusk light, this could be a romantic, post-coital scene, but the back to back figures seem to hold something from one another. Their tension and frustration is in contrast to Brian’s upfront sexuality that can be glimpsed in the photograph of him, cigarette dangling from lips, pinned in the top right corner of the work. This is an honest snapshot of a moment in relationship, and an almost universal experience.

It’s always a pleasant relief to see images of women through the eyes of women. Interestingly, there were no nudes in this exhibition – these were women’s and girls’ bodies without the sexualised male gaze. That’s not to say the women depicted were devoid of sexuality, rather that these women are more than simply sexual. There was an intimacy present in many of these photographs; the viewer is often invited into a bedroom, again not so much a sexual as a private place. But there were also grand scenes, such as Marina Abramovic as a peace warrior on a white stallion. Women can be everything, and there was a little bit of everything in these photographs.

Advertisements

This event was mad educational. I’m not particularly hot on my art history, but this 2010 film highlights how pretty much nobody is hot on women’s art history, and how women’s art is consistently undervalued and under-documented.

The At one point in the film, pundits outside an art gallery were asked to name 3 women artists. One of them managed to name Frida Kahlo, and everyone else drew a blank. A succinct summary of the state of affairs. 

Artist Sarah Turner’s introductory talk raised an interesting argument about the difference between women’s and men’s art during the feminist movement. Turner argues that female artists were outward looking, their art consistently relevant to and fighting against the real life conditions of the day, whereas male artists were concerned with their own legacy. She described this as women’s art being about content as much as form. This necessary outward engagement is the reason that for years there was a black hole in art history where there should have been women. White male artists’ privilege allowed them to focus on themselves and on art itself to ensure their own place in art history – they didn’t have to spend their time fighting for their bodies and their rights. Women had to address the real world in their art because the real world was treating them like shit.

I learnt so much about women artists and the feminist movement from this evening. The film discussed the art of Ana Mendieta, exiled Cuban American artist, whose work dealt with the body, feminism, and displacement. I had never heard of her. She fell to her death from a 34th story window, with her artist husband, Carl Andre, accused (and acquitted) of her murder. Her art was used by Andre’s defence as evidence that her death had been suicide. 

Liv Wynter, poet and representative of WHEREISANAMENDIETA, gave an enlightening and inspiring introductory talk. I got all fired up about her work making art available to everyone – she works with youth groups, reenacting performance works performed by Ana Mendieta, who herself had been reenacting another artist’s performance. There’s some beautiful rebirth in this.

!WAR does not shy away from the conflict within the feminist movement. There are tales of Judy Chicago making other women cry. B Ruby Rich is visibly and verbally angry at the Guerilla Girls’ lack of response to Ana Mendieta’s murder. The film shows that the feminist art movement was the most important art movement in the 20th century, but failed to solve the problems it raised. So it is down to female artists now to continue the fight. 

As I say, I learnt loads watching this. I would have liked to see more discussion of the role that race and sexuality played in the feminist art movement. Introductions by Club de Femmes mentioned queerness but it wasn’t raised at all in the film, and I think only two artists discussed their race, and that was briefly. From an intersectional perspective this film was missing those key elements. 

I feel like I have a whole side of art history to learn.