According to both Brand and Devereaux, the “gaze” of a male viewer restricts the possibilities for the representation of the female form. This conclusion can be drawn by examining the patriarchal system that paves the road for the majority of past and present artworks. The basic idea is that any represented female form, or any image for that matter, must be presented in a way that is pleasing to the eye of a male. For a piece to be aesthetically pleasing, it must be pleasing to a man’s eye, and for a piece to be inspiring or intellectual, it must be seen as such to a man’s eye, and so on. The generalized idea that an image or piece of text is viewed from a male perspective has been with us for centuries. Even more so than today, men of the early twentieth century were seen as the bread-winners of the family, and therefore, they were the ones educated. Many more men were exposed to literature and high levels of art than women as part of their “male educations.” The “female education” of the time included things like cooking, baking, cleaning, and how to keep a proper home; for women, a formal education was not on the agenda.
With the idea of women as the “objects” of artwork, (Devereaux 121) one must take into consideration all that that entails. As the object of a contemporary piece of artwork, the female must be physically attractive, and follow the social norms of beauty: including body type, weight, hair color, eye color, and confidence. The female is presented to the viewers in a way that is purely for their satisfaction; a way that does not enable her to stand on her own, but instead presents her almost as a gift, often erotic and sometimes degrading. Barbara Kruger’s piece, You Are Not Yourself, exemplifies the struggles women face to make themselves “pretty enough,” “skinny enough,” and “good enough,” in the eyes of the men in their lives. The image shows what appears to be a broken mirror, with the face of a distraught woman looking back at the viewer. She seems to be crying over her appearance, and one might conclude that she has broken the mirror herself. The woman in the artwork has “cracked” under the societal pressures to look impossibly beautiful, and the text, “You are not yourself” refers to her lack of identity. In the process of conforming to what is expected of her, she has lost her personal identity, and her mind: an obvious criticism of the expectation of women, and the depictions of women in art.
The next image, Kristen Justesen’s “Sculpture II” depicts a nude woman in a small cardboard box. Extreme as it is, this picture neither shocks nor surprises me. Ironically though, if the sculpture were of a man depicted nude inside a box, I would be surprised. This is in part due to my awareness of feminist artwork, but mainly because it would be rare to find a piece of artwork in which a man depicts himself confined in any small space, especially as a representation of his restricted creativity. In this way, this image is a perfect example of the way many women artists are feel about their talent: they are confined to working within a fixed parameter, with no hopes of escaping the realm of judgment, or expanding the “accepted” social norms. Taken in another way, this image could also represent a rejection of the male “gaze.” The female form is stripped bare and placed in a confined space so ease in viewing. Presented in an “unladylike” manner, the woman rejects the traditional role of an art object. She appears unaffected by the viewer’s gaze on her, even going as far as to exhibit characteristics that would be seen as undesirable for a stereotypical patriarchal sculpture or painting.
In addition to the idea of the restriction of female forms in art, Devereaux and Brand’s articles pay particular attention to the “omission of the “greats” in written histories of art.” (Brand 10) Not only must a female form be aesthetically pleasing to the male viewer, but a majority of the time she is actually represented by a male. To further this idea, let’s examine a painting by one of the world’s “greats.” The Mona Lisa, by Leonardo DaVinci is both a prime example of men representing women, and the instrumental “gaze” cast on the image. Unlike many other traditional artworks of women, such as Kristen Justesen’s sculpture, the lady in the painting returns the viewer’s gaze. The infamous smile on her face takes the viewer back, as they are not used to the seemingly two-sided speculation. Breaking the traditional idea of “unauthorized looking,” (Devereaux 132) the figure seems to accept the fact that she is being watched. The mysterious smile on her face could even be described as telling, showing her pleasure, dissatisfaction or amusement with the viewer. The idealized form of the Mona Lisa proves yet again, the restrictions placed on women in art. She is presented as a lady of a high class, with appropriate clothing and hairstyle, as well as body type.
In sharp contrast to what is arguably Da Vinci’s masterpiece, is Marcel Duchamp’s Dadaist rendition of the same piece. Known by most for his work, The Fountain, Duchamp worked within the Dada and Surrealist movements during the post-World War II era. His unique depiction of the Mona Lisa, can be seen as both a rebelling of traditional Realism and a feminist critique. In his work, the figure appears with precise likeness to the original figure of the Mona Lisa, except for the inclusion of a petite mustache and beard. In this found-object piece, it appears that all Duchamp really did was take an already existing postcard of the Mona Lisa and deface it with a black pen. While in reality this may be true, his finished work has a much more significant meaning. While his intentions may have differed, an important criticism Duchamp’s piece makes is the oppressive representation of women. Through creating a female form with masculine qualities, he is actually broadening the range of acceptable looks for females in art. Taking into his account his position as a male artist, one might be able to perceive the relevant irony. Though an outsider to the world of socially acceptable art, Marcel Duchamp became famous with the help of his gender, and his work was eventually taken seriously. Would the same situation involving a female artist have the same outcome? I do not believe so. However, it is because of pro-active men, such as Marcel Duchamp, that feminist art has come as far as it has today. Dwelling on a reading from another class, oppression will not end until the oppressed people enlighten their oppressors; and consequently, the oppressors are the only ones who have the power to change the hierarchy of society.
1 comment:
I agree whole-heartedly with Kim and the authors Brand, Korsmeyer, and Devereaux about the overwhelming presence of the “male gaze,” particularly in art. Women in art have not been able, until recently, make names for or individuals of themselves apart from being objects in the works of the male artist. As Kim brings up in the example of DaVinci’s Mona Lisa, the female form has been presented to the male viewers through the eyes of the male artists; the women are degraded to the status of objects in the patriarchal societies of both the past and, to a lesser degree, the present. They are charged only with appearing pleasant and attractive to men, as artist Barbara Kruger shows in her piece You Are Not Yourself, and unfortunately, it is so common that the women themselves fall victim to the far-reaching influence of the “male gaze,” becoming upset with themselves when they do not measure up to the societal standards. Everything, from the positioning of the subject to the expressions on the faces of women in art depicts this objectification of the female form. A particularly good representation of this is the piece Kim found, Sculpture II, which was itself made by a female artist. It literally shows the oppressive, restricting attitude toward women in art and society (as art usually is a reflection of a society), through the boxing-in of a nude woman. Kim has an interesting analysis of one of the meanings behind this piece: it represents the stifling of creativity in the woman artist. This divide between nearly unrestricted male creativity and very limited female creativity is possible to see throughout history, especially in the many cases where male artwork has been granted the status of a masterpiece, while the women’s work is considered a craft, functional and hardly worthy of being considered “fine art.”
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