Duncan deduces that the museum is crowded with selective images of whores, prostitutes and all women at the lowest of the social scale, and asks “what do sexually available bodies on a monumental scale have to do with art?” Why is it prestigious and why are these “heroes” celebrated?
The museum acts as a spiritually masculinized quest, suggesting that art is primarily a male endeavor, yet the transcendence is more likely to be based on fears and desires of the female form.
Males create for themselves a distorted form of a dangerous woman-creature who is overpowering, castrating and devouring. At this plane of culture, modern art museums appear intelligible despite its misogynistic traits. Whilst abstract expressionism may appear to lack this discrimination, it is its goal to escape the physical and biological, rebelling against the mother and the biological female form.
MOMA’s few women artists are considered anomalies since they de-gender the ritual ordeal, they are kept at a minority since the female presence is only necessary in its imagery, not its artists. Male imagery is both mentally and physically active, and not sexually available. These representations emit the impression of highly self conscious, psychologically complex beings whose sexual feelings are leavened with poetic pain, frustration, heroic fear, protective irony and artistic motivation.
As
These attributes are present in tribal art and that of the Gorgon, and like the Gorgon she simultaneously suggests and avoids the explicit act sexual display. As the mother goddess her lust for blood is emphasized and conjures powerlessness in men who stand before her, representing castration, the vagina dentate and the feeling of inadequacy before women in male psychic development. These fears shared in communal myth and imagery appear to create universal higher truths, and like the Gorgons in her Ancient Greek shrine it becomes worshipped in the high cultural house of the modern world.
The ubiquitous Woman I strikes a paradoxically, ambiguous yet dangerous truth – like the medusa the hero must look at her flat image through the shield, placing it at the centre of his work he secures the aura of myth and mystical authority. She is monumental, iconic and teasing, frighteningly ambiguous, associating with both high art and smutty magazine centerfolds. Yet she is rendered harmless due what De Kooning calls her “silliness”, these ambiguities allow for a chance to overcome this monster cultural and psychological place to enact the myth of the artist-hero, asserting patriarchal privilege of objectifying sexual fantasy as high culture.
Georgia O’Keeffe
Georgia O’Keeffe was born in Sun Prairie,
O’Keeffe moved to Mexico City due to the feelings of oppression she felt the city presented, and for the next twenty years she would travel West during the Summer months to paint in solitude and return every Winter to exhibit at Steiglitz’s galleries. After Steiglitz’s death, O’Keeffe moved to
Cow’s Skull: Red, White and Blue, 1931
The Bones of O’Keeffe’s cow’s skull cut sharply into the centre of something that is keenly alive in the landscape of the desert, despite its vast, empty and untouchable terrain, it represents beauty, purity and danger. In the eloquent construction of line and form a symbolic image raising issues of nationalism and religion arises. The piece retains a simple composition; the frontal skull becomes an image of power almost like that of a sacred relic, although it’s upright positioning and ‘cowboy’ associations appear to suggest a phallic form, an idolized symbol of masculinity. Further more the religious connotation is exemplified through the compositional formation of a cross configuration using the skull’s extended horns and vertical support, the ultimate symbol of masculinity, a fetishized male god. As the title re-iterates, we also see the American flag colours reinforcing the sacredness of the landscape in regards to nationalism.
Cow’s Skull with Calico Roses, 1931
Oil on CanvasDespite the near identical composition to Red, White and Blue we find many of the same forms yet the piece manages to achieve the opposite effect, delivering light-heartedness through subtle humour. Here the masculine imagery of the skull is feminised with a beautiful flower in its hair, and further abstracted and softened with subtle undertones. Due to the generalized form the flowers appear to represent the vulvas we find in Judy Chicago’s Dinner Party, in which an alternative reading may suggest the masculiniztion of the feminine through the imagery of the skull.
From the Faraway Nearby, 1937
Oil on Canvas
From the Faraway Nearby reintroduces the imagery of the skull yet combines it with that of the Western landscape, its expansive emptiness and the exhilaration induced by its spatial experience. The impossible and mythical beast portrayed is a statement not on death or the temporality of life but a statement of what endures and is eternal. Resting upon the landscape it expresses similarities to the earth’s peaks in colour and contrast becoming an extension of the landscape itself.
The skull gains an ambiguous spatial depth as it looms towards the picture plane causing the landscape to recede quickly, developing an enormous depth variance which flattens the landscape.
Bibliography
Buhler Lynes Barbara, Catalogue Raisonné Volume 2,Hutton Turner
Messinger Lisa Mintz, Gorgia O’Keeffe,
Robinson Roxanna, Georgia O’Keeffe: A Life,
Judy Chicago
Dinner Party-Place Setting, Ceramic Plate of Georgia O'Keefe, 1974-1979
Georgia O'Keeffe's is the last place setting at The Dinner Party. Of the works in the installation it posses the most height, signifying O’Keeffe’s liberation and success as a female artist. The imagery on O'Keeffe's plate incorporates the forms she used in her own flower paintings, such as Black Iris (1926), with the vulvic central core used throughout The Dinner Party. Whilst Chicago pays tribute to O'Keeffe's originality and the imagery, she also acknowledges the influence O'Keefe had on later feminist artists, claiming her work as "pivotal in the development of an authentically female iconography" (Chicago,The Dinner Party, 155).On the runner are airbrushed colours corresponding to the plate's colour palette; Chicago chose these colours to represent fine art painting, and O'Keeffe's participation in that tradition. A piece of raw Belgian linen, which is used for art canvases, is attached to cherry wood stretcher bars. At the front of the runner, the first initial of O'Keeffe's name is stitched using the style of her famous skull paintings, which were influenced by the American West. The embroidered letter "G" suggests the antler formations of such works as The Faraway Nearby (1937), suggesting a kindred bond between two.
Black Iris (1926)
Straying away from O’Keeffe, Chicago reminds of us what the female body provides; the flowering arrangement of the vagina yet the commitment and determination of O’Keeffe. The fetish of the vulva seeks to displace the obscene and uses the humour of Shelly Lowell and Sam Haskins I order to subvert the inherent disgust of female genitalia by indulging in clichés and innuendos. Chicago reverses the situation of women by re-presenting a joke regarding the notion of a universally understood subject opposed to being dictated to by the authority of art institutions.
Nonetheless, the 1970s presented women with a new sense of authority over their bodies; the dark greenish colouring and the convulsions of flesh confuse the boundaries of inside and out thus removing women from the erotic gaze.
Bibliography
Madeline Caviness, ‘The De-eroticised Body: Aesthetic Codes, Fragmentation, and the problem of agency, Visualizing Women in the Middle Ages, Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001
Amelia Jones, Sexual Politics: Judy Chicago’s Dinner part in Feminist Art History, Los Angeles, 1996
Lucie Smith, Judy Chicago: an American Vision, New York, Watson-Guptill Publications, 2000
Sylvia Sleigh
Philip Golub Reclining, 1971
Using the role reversal, Sleigh explored the question of values attached to the traditional representations of women and men, and the absence in Western art of erotic portraits of men juxtaposed the idealized stances traditionally given to gods or figure-heads with commonplace contemporary settings. These portraits are also characterized by an almost obsessive attention to detail such as body hair being elaborated in all its various peculiarities. Sleigh’s Goddesses are modelled by friends, portrayed in real-life situations rather than anonymous women. Here Philip is passively positioned in a traditional reclining pose, juxtaposed with his long bouffant hair style it suggests a certain androgyny challenging the notion of the traditional nude. We can see Sleigh who reminds us that the painting was created through the process of making art, thus losing any erotic qualities it may have had. The painting’s role reversal has received great criticism due to the reactionary tactic of objectifying the male yet it appears to state more clearly the objectification of women, simply using the tactic of reversal so that we may actually ‘see’ a situation that our eyes are so de-sensitized by.
Bibliography
C. Streifer Rubinstein: American Women Artists: From Early Indian Times to the Present, Boston, 1982, pp. 401–3
P. Dunford: A Biographical Dictionary of Women Artists in Europe and America since 1850, Hemel Hempstead, 1990
Sylvia Sleigh: Invitation to a Voyage and Other Works, Milwaukee, WI, A. Mus.; Muncie, IN, Ball State U., A.G.; Youngstown, OH, Butler Inst. Amer. A.; 1990
Suzanne Valadon
The Blue Room, 1923
Born September 23 1865
The first female painter permitted to join the Société Nationale des Beaux-Arts.
Dies April 7 1938
Valadon was encouraged as an artist by Edgar Degas and highly regarded by Picasso, George Braque and Andre Derain. As a beautiful woman she modelled for Renoir, de Chavannes and Lautrec, radically shaping her ideals of the model as an object. Her work is ‘characterized a certain tension between expectations set up by genre and the way she actually represents the female body’ [1] due to her experience of being the subject matter. As we can see through the models traditional reclining pose, and luscious Manet-esque surroundings juxtaposed with her slightly masculine figure and refusal to even expose partial nudity her work endeavoured to depict women untainted by the voyeur, suggesting resistance to the dominant representations of women in the early twentieth-century, and would also account for the ‘confusion of critics, who have described her work as both ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’ [2].
[1] Rosemary Betterton, ‘How do Women Look?: Suzanne Valadon and the Nude, Looking On: Images of Femininity in the Visual Arts, London, Pandora Publishing, 1987, pp. 222
[2] Ibid, pp. 222
Bibliography
Rosemary Betterton, ‘How do Women Look?: Suzanne Valadon and the Nude, Looking On: Images of Femininity in the Visual Arts, London, Pandora Publishing, 1987
Patricia Matthews, ‘Returning the Gaze: Diverse Representations of the Nude in the Art of Suzanne Valadon’, Art Bulletin, 1991, 73
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