Frida, Me, and Feminity

A few years back when I was still doing my Masters in Women and Gender Studies, I came across the work of Frida Kahlo as a part of the course and took an instant liking to it. She was a painter, an artist, and muralist born in a village in Mexico in the early twentieth century. She fell in love with Diego Rivera and married him. For him, she left her village, her country, and her people and moved to the USA. Owing to an illness and a tragic accident, she experienced several miscarriages and never bore a child. The resulting depression led to her being admitted to several different mental asylums. 

Frida was a strong headed woman who was never bogged down by all the lemons that life threw at her and did everything she could to make her husband happy. However, Diego seemed to be unfazed by all her sacrifices and cheated on her continuously. He often had affairs with younger women while intermittently coming back to Frida, who accepted him every time he was back. 

Frida’s tragic life filled her canvases with amazing work. She painted the grotesque realities of life without shame. Her work talked about everything that was taboo at the time and still is in many parts of the world. She used her work to open up about her numerous miscarriages, her time in the mental asylum, and her broken inner self. Her immense sadness led her to make some of the best paintings in the world which shot her to global fame. Her work is mostly remembered for its pain and passion and its intense vibrant colours. A mixed race Mexican woman ruled the world of art in the fifth and sixth decade of the twentieth century. This was a feat in itself.

I believe it must have taken tremendous courage on her part to bare her inner self for the world to see, even though she had no guarantee of the reaction, especially when she dared to do it for the first time. Women in every part of the world at the time were still fighting for their rightful space in public lives. They were considered inferior to men in every respect. There were hardly any jobs for women, any readers for female writers, and admirers for women painters, an atmospher which has hardly changed today. It was through this chaos that Frida carved a niche for herself despite the many agonies she went through. She created a space for other women to come out of their homes and into the world of men, and to be able to share their side of the story. This is the biggest reason why her work is not only widely acclaimed but also taught in various institutions and loved in many more.

For people like me, her self-portraits have always been something to applaud. She painted herself with a uni-brow, a hint of moustache and hair on her neck. Having grown up in Mexico she was constantly aware of how different she was when compared to her white neighbors, and yet she continued to paint herself exactly as she looked instead of trying to fit in the cultural notions of beauty and femininity that were prevalent at the time. While working on any self portrait Frida made sure that her reality remained visible on the canvas. She painted every scar with pride and held her head high while doing so. Her boldness was admired by feminists all over.

When I first saw her self-portraits, I was in awe of this artist’s courage. How many women have the strength to face the world like she did? I found her inspiring, the way she looked in the mirror, the confidence in her eyes, the enigma dripping from her portraits which showed no sense of embarrassment for standing in front of the world, defying their pre-conceived notions. It made me want to salute the artist. She helped me realise the importance of being comfortable in one’s own skin. She celebrated the beauty that was at odds with the norm, breaking all the centuries-old conventions in one go through her self-portraits. I loved her work. I appreciated it and tried to be more like her - assertive, becoming the mistress of my own destiny, not giving into body shaming, loving every pimple mark on my face.

With time, I began diving into Frida’s collection more and more. She has more than a hundred masterpieces, most of which come from her own experience of life. As a staunch advocate of women’s rights, I looked for the subtle meaning, subtexts, and hidden messages in her work with interest. She is said to have depicted the desires of women boldly and passionately, celebrating the self and the several strata that remain buried beneath. Many critiques expressed that her work was a vehement and unrestrained feminine world in itself. And that is exactly why I enjoyed her work to such a great extent. She has painted the pain of a woman without inhibition on the canvas.

Frida was undoubtedly a visionary who knew what to say and how to be bold, however, the more I studied her self-portraits, the more questions concerning the context of her work began wandering through my brain.

The paintings that made me question Frida’s work the most were the self portraits that she painted soon after or during periods when her relationship with Diego was its most tempestuous. Usually Frida went into depression every time there was a problem in her married life and painted herself in the most un-feminine way she could.

This is the first self portrait she painted after her divorce while battling with grief of losing her husband. As we can see, she painted herself in cropped hair and an ill-fitting suit. Her shaved long hairs are strewn all over the floor as a symbol of rejection of her femininity. She has an empty expression on her face.

Finding love is one of the greatest joys of life and losing it one of its most devastating disasters, but the more I pondered this particular portrait I disagreed with her rejection of femininity as a response to grief, and questioned what it meant for me.

My femininity, my love and pride for womanhood, my desire to look or not look a certain way can never be attached to acceptance from a man. Loving a man, becoming the love of his life, the desire and passion to share my life with him is entirely different from trying to be a woman just for his sake. Frida cut her hair short because Diego admired her long hair. If she did that to get rid of her feelings for the man she should have looked liberated, free of the burden of loving a man who left her in mental asylum to run around with younger girls.

Were Frida alive today, I would have asked her how she could betray her womanhood? Is a woman only a woman if a man loves her? Will she not remain one if he leaves? After all the bold proclamations of being a woman defying the patriarchal norms of beauty, was her assertion of femininity ultimately a result of a relationship with a man and not something that came from within?

Looking beautiful, looking liking a woman, admiring all the curves in my body, putting on lipstick and mascara, and smiling at my own reflection in the mirror is a joy to me. Claiming my femininity is a thing I do because it makes me happy and not because it would make me pleasing in a man’s eyes. Why Frida would want to get rid of that is beyond my comprehension.

The man I loved with all my heart for more than five years married another woman three short months after our last fight and has married twice since. Yes, it makes me question a lot of things said and done in our relationship, it makes me question my self-worth at times too but never ever did the thought of disowning my feminine self came to my mind. I still dress the same way, use the same makeup, and keep on growing my hair long and cutting it short alternatively, not because a certain man likes or doesn’t like the way I present myself, but to make myself happy. I do not feel that my expression of myself is connected to a man, and it makes me sad that Frida maybe thought that hers was.

My sense of worth as a woman leads me to not being dependent on anyone for approval. To me, asserting my feminism means refusing to be treated like a second class citizen, to proclaim that my work, my decisions, my words, my thoughts, and I as a person are equally important. I hold the same status as any other man in my vicinity and I deserve the same respect, admiration, acceptance, and accolades as he does.

The other thing that makes me curious was her tolerance to Diego’s infidelity and disloyalty. A woman as bold and courageous as Frida, allowed a man to betray her repeatedly. She then accepted him every time he came back to her knowing that it wouldn’t last long. Like clockwork Diego would run after a new girl within weeks, leaving Frida devastated. I understand the concept of love, yet I felt frustrated that her value was so closely tied to her relationship with Diego, and how much her work suffered for it.

Frida’s obsession with Diego overtook her assertive self and that is where she stops being a role model to me. She had once said, ‘Being the wife of Diego is the most marvelous thing in the world..... I let him play matrimony with other women. Diego is not anybody’s husband and never will be, but he is a great comrade.’ 

With my newly acquired sense of criticism for Frida’ work, I looked into her work and noticed that her portraits changed their tone according to the way Diego treated her. When he loved her, accepted her as his woman, Frida painted herself in the ways he cherished her – long hair, traditional Mexican costume, Tehuana, and jewelry. Whenever they got divorced or separated (they went through both), she would discard the clothes, the decorative jewelry, and cut her hair short and when they reconciled, she painted a self-portrait again with long braided hair.

This makes me wonder if those self-portraits were actually the way Frida was or just a reflection of herself in Diego’s eyes? Who was she to herself, the woman with short hair or the woman with long?

Changing with time is inevitable, our self-image too transforms with that. However, discarding and reclaiming her femininity according to Diego – his behavior and vision makes Frida lose her position as a feminist artist for me.

Womanhood is not a material possession, it has no concrete definition neither can it be described with characteristics nor labels. Instead, it is an abstract concept and that too is a fluid one. You are a woman if you feel like one, if your inner self identifies with the beauty of femininity, when you look at the world with the eyes of a woman irrespective of how the world looks back at you. It is not something that could be switched on and off like a light bulb. It doesn’t matter if you are happy or sad, in a relationship or single, a mother or not, are emotionally vocal or a private person. 

In a world where thousands of women are fighting constantly for equality and a more gender-fluid society, where activists are trying to create an atmosphere for women to be no longer considered subjective to men but be treated as an equal, as a person with individual existence and as creatures of wisdom who have the power to decide for their own, Frida’s paintings remind me of the tragedy of patriarchy on woman potential.

She has been and will always be a world acclaimed painter. Her art, her calibre as a painter,  and the beauty of her work in undeniable and will surely last for centuries to come. I just hope that we can reach a place where artists to come like her will not feel like their self-expression and creativity are tied to their male partners.

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Nazia Kamali is a research scholar of Gender and Literature. She has written for local news paper as well as research journals. Additionally her poems have been published in anthologies by Cape Comorin Publishers, PCC Inscape and also in magazines. When not hunched over the keyboard clicking away keys, Nazia is busy admiring birds and trees around her.

The Orgasm Archive: an Interview with Artist Christine Sloan Stoddard

Christine Sloan Stoddard is a Salvadoran-American author, artist, filmmaker, theatre-maker, and the founder of Quail Bell Press & Productions. This includes the namesake publication Quail Bell Magazine. Her newest books are Heaven is a Photograph (a poetry and photography collection) and Naomi & The Reckoning (a novelette). Her newest film, "Bottled," is available on Amazon Prime. Her newest play, "Mi Abuela, Queen of Nightmares," is forthcoming in a book by Table Work Press.

First of all, thank you for allowing us to publish your work and letting us interview you! We loved your piece “The Orgasm Archive” but felt like we needed to hear more about your process and reasoning for creating it before we published it. How did you first come up with the idea to do an art project about orgasms, and in particular, about the disparities between female and male pleasure?

A grad school project prompt in my interdisciplinary art program inspired me to consider creative ways of representing power imbalances in heteronormative relationships. I focused on pleasure because I was thinking about how art is often thought of as a source of pleasure or decadence, something that isn’t necessary to survival, but on some level, it is. Art is necessary in life just as much as pleasure, including physical pleasure, is necessary in life. I also focused on pleasure because I wanted to portray something that’s common knowledge about heteronormative power imbalances, even if not everyone agrees it is a bad thing. As a personal challenge for myself, I wanted to find creative ways to illustrate this common knowledge. Just because something is commonly known doesn’t mean it can’t be represented in a new way. In some ways, it’s tougher to do that than illustrate novel knowledge.

“Just because something is commonly known doesn’t mean it can’t be represented in a new way.”

“The Orgasm Archive” includes photography, illustrations, GIFs, typographical experiments, sculptures, and installations. It’s quite a vast project in large part because the class project demanded we pursue something generative. Over the course of nearly two months, we were required to produce a new aspect of the project every week and present it for critique. My process in general involves producing numerous things and then weeding out what I don’t want, or at least don’t want for this edit of a project. There were definitely pieces that didn’t make the final cut for my class project but that I still consider a part of that process and intend to showcase elsewhere.

A faked orgasm is an insanely visual and audio performance that represents something that is not quite true, but a production that is meant to entertain, excite, and deceive. How do you think that plays into your visual representations of orgasm?

I wanted to allude to orgasms without creating literal depictions of intercourse or oral sex because an orgasm isn’t just physical. It’s also psychological and can even be deeply emotional. As you mentioned, if it’s faked, it’s definitely performative. And even if it’s not faked, there’s still an awareness of performance and often pride or shame attached to it: “Am I being too loud?” “Is my orgasm face weird?” “I bet I look really hot.” One of the reasons why I love making art is that you rely so heavily on your imagination, but you’re still tasked with tapping into something real. I enjoy making work that feels completely magical or unreal, but I also enjoy making work that captures reality to the point of magnifying it, almost to the point of hyper-observation and obsession. I leaned into both of these impulses, depending upon what quote I was working with.

Obviously a lot of what we understand about female pleasure is the result of less-than-accurate information, or lack thereof, about female orgasm. Did you learn anything you didn’t know before when you were doing your research for this piece?

I didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know about female orgasm. Instead, I was reminded that there can be a lot of thinking, research, writing, and publishing related to a problem without real change being effected. Women still aren’t getting off as much as they want to get off.

How did you find and choose the quotes that you used in The Orgasm Archives?

Because it stemmed from a class project, I relied on my campus libraries. I went to the main library and the science library at The City College of New York and gleaned as much as I could in the time that I had. Admittedly, it wasn’t any more systematic than that. I supplemented with online research at home, but I was really invested in what had been published in physical books, including much older ones. This was in part because I figured I might as well make good use of campus resources while I had them, but also because I was thinking about the physicality of some of the artwork I was creating. Scanning and/or photographing books definitely factored into my process and I did use actual books for one of my installations. I was one of those jerks who literally checked out 40 or 50 books at a time because being a grad student afforded me that privilege. And, yes, those books did end up in one of the campus art galleries.

What do you hope people will get out of The Orgasm Archives? What do you want them to take away about themselves and about their relationship to pleasure?

In reality, I think most people will only see bits and pieces from “The Orgasm Archives”—a photo here, a GIF there. They won’t experience the whole archive at once, but I like keeping the project name attached to individual pieces to cue the audience to the fact that those pieces are part of something larger. Depending upon the piece they see, I hope they will respond to the humor or enchantment and feel camaraderie with other women or compassion for women. If they are someone who doesn’t believe all people should experience pleasure in consenting sexual encounters/relationships, then I want to change their mind. Or at least encourage them to question why they think that way!

How does sexuality and pleasure influence your other work? Your other mediums?

It’s really case by case, but I’m definitely interested in those topics and often explore them in my projects. My first published novelette, Naomi & The Reckoning (Finishing Line Press), deals with sexuality and pleasure more directly than most other recently released pieces. This novelette follows Naomi, a young woman with a physical deformity living in Richmond, VA. Struggling with body acceptance all her life, Naomi also comes from a strict religious upbringing. Purity culture further complicated her relationship with her body and, now recently married, she can’t find sexual satisfaction. You can order the book directly from the publisher here. An audiobook and film for Naomi & The Reckoning are currently in production, with actress Donna Morales serving as the narrator for both.

Talk to us about eroticism in the art world, as well as what it’s like to be a woman in art, doing work about sexuality and sensuality. 

Though I’ve experienced cyberbullying and sexual harassment, I haven’t quite been accused of being a “nymphomaniac” yet and even if I were, I wouldn’t care. I’ve grown immune to comments, DMs, unsolicited emails, etc. Isn’t that sad? Yet that’s my coping mechanism and survival strategy. I receive a lot of unwanted attention from men and occasionally women—strangers and acquaintances alike—but I think that’s just by virtue of being a public female figure or even simply a woman, because it happens regardless of whether recent projects have focused on sexuality and sensuality. Even during my more dormant periods, these people seem to feel entitled to my time and attention, or at least they want my time and attention. But I know my boundaries and I set them. I’m not obligated to give anyone anything. I really only make myself accessible to the public as someone whose work they can view, read, purchase, or study. I’m not your girlfriend or fuck buddy because you saw one of my creations in a magazine and now think I must be hot to trot. There’s a clear division between my work and myself as a person. I cannot be bought. I am not a commodity. If you’ve bought a book or painting from me, great, thank you, I appreciate your patronage, but that doesn’t mean you get me. Unfortunately, enforcing boundaries is often necessary for a female artist’s safety and sanity. I keep most of my private life incredibly private.

To find more of Christine’s work, follow her socials and other projects below:

I am always creating and it can be hard to keep up, but I don’t expect anyone to do that. I can barely do that! I only hope that when they do stumble upon my work, some aspect of it intrigues them and they seek more.

Current Projects:

Heaven is a Photograph

Hello, New York—The Living And Dead

Two Plays: True Believer and Mi Abuela, Queen of Nightmares

Bottled

Virtual Caress

Nessie

Mural commissions

Websites:

You can find out about my other books, as well as my film and video work, like my recent release Moonskating, and my visual artwork, like my murals, at www.worldofchristinestoddard.com. I am available for hire as a writer, visual storyteller, and cultural producer (www.wordsmithchristine.com) and take commissions as a fine artist (www.christinestoddard.com). 

I also run Quail Bell Magazine at www.quailbellmagazine.com and Quail Bell Press & Productions at www.quailbell.com.

Socials:

My Facebook fan page is facebook.com/artistchristinestoddard. I’m on Instagram at @christine_sloan_stoddard and Twitter @csloanstoddard.

Article and interview written, edited and conducted by the whorticulturalist.

The Guerrilla Girls

I first discovered Guerrilla Girls in 2005 – I had never heard of the group. Not a whisper or casual comment, an article or a headline, title tattle or gossip - you get my point.   I had attended an exhibition called ‘Imagine a World’ at Barge house Gallery in London launched by Amnesty International as part of its global campaign:  ‘Stop Violence Against Women’. 

An exhibition of contemporary art that aimed to make people stop and think about the impact of violence against females.  The exhibition featured paintings, photography, and sculptures.   A wonderful interactive experience in which myself and other visitors were asked to "Imagine a World without Violence" and our responses formed part of the exhibition.

Image via the Tate museum.

The New York Activists Guerrilla Girls first ever appearance caused quite a stir at the Barge house, with their mix of seductive art and feminist politics. As I watched, taking in their greedily, and memorized by the celebrated poster emblazoned with "Do Women have to be Naked to get into the Met Museum,” I had found a new art crush. Crush seems such an infantile word for a moment so powerful so let me explain in another way; My senses felt ignited as if liquid adrenaline had been injected into my blood stream. Around that time, I had connected with third way feminism and had become more and more curious about Protest Art and Intersectional Feminism - A term devised by Kimberle Williams Crenshaw. My eyes had just opened to the fuckery in our social order and I believed and still do that women experience levels of repression caused by gender, color, disability, and class.  In the ‘Guilty Feminist, (2019)  Deborah Frances-Whites writes:

 ‘It’s harder to be a black, queer, broke, deaf woman than it is to be a rich straight, non-disabled, middle class, white woman, and if feminism doesn’t address that, then its part of the patriarchy’ 

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“My illustrious lordship, I’ll show you what a woman can do.”

—   Artemisia Gentileschi 

To me the purpose of art is to make me think, and to make me think is to move me.  Therefore, Guerrilla Girls were a much-needed discovery. Women fighting for justice with furry faces, short muzzles, enormous brow ridges and large nostrils. This resonated exactly with my sense of humor, I was never going to forget them in a hurry! After looking into their work, I relished the activist approach that they had adopted and felt I could connect with this attitude.  They spoke “truth” to me in a witty and powerful way. ‘The Conscience of the Art World’ (Guerrilla Girls 1995- 2020). 

“Speak up. Say something. Your words have the power to change the fucking world.”

— Florence Given: Taken from: ‘Women Don’t Owe You Pretty’ 2020 

Guerrilla Girls use facts, humor, and visuals to expose sexism, racism, and corruption in the art world. True art for me is channelled through the heart and mind, guided by emotions that stir the soul and the imagination.  Guerrilla Girls have the ability in one poster to express a thousand words in a second, and a hundred different stories.

“Fight for the things that you care about. But do it in a way
that will lead others to join you.”

— Ruth Bader Ginsburg (1933-2020)

The GG’s (as I affectionately call them) began in 1985 in New York City. Angered by the lack of recognition for female artists and fed up with being overlooked by  leading institutions of art in the United States including MoMA curator Kynaston McShine who publicly said that anyone who failed to be included in an international survey of contemporary paintings should reconsider his career, decided that they should take the task on of bringing gender and racial inequality into focus. The group (Guerrilla Girls’ 1985 – 2020) consists of founding members Frida Kahlo & Kathe Kollwitz and other unidentified artists/art professionals who have assumed the names of deceased female artists. The group wore gorilla masks to maintain anonymity and "to keep the focus on the issues rather than our personalities." (Guerrilla Girls 1985-2020). 

Image via the Tate museum.

Any establishment who did not represent the work of enough women and artists of color in their exhibitions became a target for the social critics. As a source of inspiration to other female artists and artists of color, they began pasting sly posters with meanings and stickers in visible places near art galleries and museums in New York City conveying strong messages. Their first posters, devoid of imagery, relied on text and graphic design, to make sharp social commentary - A statement directed toward the underrepresentation of women in the art world with bullet points supporting evidence of gender discrimination (Naming and shaming). Specific museums, galleries and individuals were a target for their metaphorical bow and arrows, used to shoot truth in the form of words. The arrows of deliverance getting right into the center of the community to speak reality, sending the GG’s in the direction where they needed to be heard. 

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Over the past thirty-five years  Guerrilla Girls have plastered billboards with slogans like "Do women have to be naked to get into the Met Museum?" "The Advantages of Being a Woman in the Art World", Male-Female Pay Gap to Gender Inequality at the Oscars; “Unchain the Women”, and “Acts of Police Violence in the US Are Crimes Against Humanity 2020”. They have written a variety of works, including ‘The Guerrilla Girl’s Bedside Companion to the History of Western Art’ and ‘Hysterical Herstory of Hysteria’ and basically said fuck you to the art world where males hold primary power and predominate and have collaborated with Greenpeace, created over 100 street projects, appeared at museums and universities as well as in the broad sheets -  including British newspaper The Guardian, The New York Times, NBC News, BBC News as well as many feminist and art writings  (Guerrilla Girls 1985-2020).  All under the disguise of the great ape masks. 

The group attracted a fair share of criticism in the early years.  Roberta Smith -Art Critic of the New York Times - was displeased to see her name on a poster that listed 22 critics who wrote about women less than 10 % of the time.

“Hardly any artists had the guts to attack the sacred cows. 
We were immediately THE topic at dinner parties, openings, even on the street. Who were these women? How dare they say that? Women artists loved us, almost everyone hated us, and none of them  could stop talking about us.”

— Anais Nin  (Guerrilla girls 1995-2020)

 ‘As an art critic, I part company with them on their attitude toward the 

notion of quality, which they see as a nonissue’

The GG’s involvement in the conventional and established art world reflects their success in raising attention to racism and sexism.  They have influenced the work of artists such as  Micol Hebron . In her Gallery Tally Project, Hebron counts the representation of women in international galleries. The GG’s also set the stage for other opinionated feminist groups such as Pussy Riot. A Russian feminist punk rock group who tackle LGBTQ rights amongst other issues. ‘To me, they are art world royalty’:  David Kiehl -Whitney American Museum of Art Curator.

There are many more battles to fight but GG’s relentless crusade has played a vital role in edging us closer to true equality and acceptance. 

Image via the Tate museum.

GG’s altered the relationship between art and politics. Activism seems not only acceptable, but vital in the art world. They prompted critics and curators to be more inclusive of women and minorities. The masked crusaders are as valid and needed today, as they were 35 years ago. People need the truth to thrive. Truth is important. Indeed, art and ethics are intimately related, artistic, and ethical values each have unique roles to play in the art world, but neither can operate independently.  Art may please; Art can be a pleasure to look at, but extraordinary art can outrage, move, question, or change perception. The disguised group of gals is still going strong and incognito 35 years after they first announced their mission to blow the whistle on an art world dominated by men. They are everywhere but nowhere.  Those very women could be the solo artist whose show you just saw in Manhattan. (Not impossible).  A curator that gave a talk to you and your friends in a gallery in Soho. (You never know).  Your art lecturer at Long Island University (Wouldn’t that be awesome).  The woman you just brushed shoulders with in Bed, Bath and Beyond on 6th Avenue.  (You kinda wondered why there was a furry mask sticking out of her purse!) 

What will the next 35 years hold? Asteroids? Aliens landing? Seriously though, will there be change in global human behavior? World economy? The Class System? Education?  Whatever happens I want the Guerrilla Girls fighting my corner.   

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Justina Jameson is an emerging writer from the UK. When she is not writing at the weekend, she can be found holding down a 9 to 5 as a Senior Administrative. Justina has  a Social Welfare and Community Degree which examines the quality of human life in a society in all its dimensions. She feels strongly in female empowerment and believes that women should make personal and professional choices that they want  and not let society make them very guilty about those very choices. Justina likes art, dogs, books, laughter and lives with her long tern partner and their dog Cooper-Star.

Tracey Emin- My Kind of Artist

As Oscar Wilde said, ‘There is only one thing in life worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about’  that cannot be said for controversial and iconic British Artist Tracey Emin.  Not many artists have been exposed to fierce public scrutiny in the British Media like Emin.  As a result, she has been criticised for being nothing more than a biographical documentarist, narcissistically playing her life out on stage in the form of neon lights, tapestries, and mono prints. Her public appearances in the media with stories of sleeping around, getting pissed, (she was sponsored by Bombay Sapphire Gin) and depression have contributed to her uncalled-for public reputation as the “Bad Girl of British Art”.  Persecuted by moral judgement she was listed at position 41 in the Channel Four programme 100 Worst Britons  in 2003.  However, in the same year she ranked 41 of the most important people in the art world by Art Review  raising her above David Hockney and Damien Hirst.  Like Marmite you either love Mad Tracey from Margate or hate her.’

Photo credit: Arthur, the digital museum

Emin was born in 1963 in Croydon, London, UK and grew up in the seaside town of Margate, Kent. Her parents ran the Hotel International and the business crashed when she was seven. At that point, her parents split up. Emin’s difficult childhood turned traumatic when she was molested at eleven on a beach and raped at the age of thirteen. When recollecting the incident of the beach she writes in  Strangelands:  “He ran his hands all over me, and I pulled at his willy until a giant spray of white covered my limbs.”  Emin has said  “When living in Margate sex was a form of escapism, on the beach, down an alley, green, park or hotel.” In ‘Strangelands’ she writes “When I was 14- 15 there was nothing to my life but dancing and sex. I would go to nightclubs and dance then I would meet someone and have sex. It was fine and easy nothing to do but think with my body, like a bird I thought I was free.” 

Despite having no qualifications and leaving school at thirteen, she managed to get accepted on an art degree course in Maidstone. She received a first and went on to the Royal College of Art . She met Carl Freedman an art curator and in his 1995 mixed show Minky Mandy she produced her famous tent ‘Everyone I have ever slept with 1963-1995’ . Inside the tent she had sewn and embroidered the names of anyone she had shared a bed with. One could argue that this controversial piece was the one that launched Emin’s career into the public eye but her ‘arrival’ was undoubtedly her appearance on a Channel 4 debate at the 1997 Turner Prize, which she famously walked out off during a live discussion saying she was ‘drunk and wanted to be with her friends.’ In ‘Strangelands’ she recalls her friend Gillian a fellow artist ringing her the next day and relating the highlights to her of the night before. “But I was not on tv, I blew it to celebrate with you. Very funny Gillian. What a wind up. Hey Gillian get off the phone, my hangovers too bad. Just take your humour somewhere else.” It was only when she opened the Guardian that day and was splashed all over the page that  it all came flooding back to her.

After a mini mental breakdown in 1998, Emin spent four days straight in bed, lifeless, vodka and cigarettes her only companion. Around her bed lay empty bottles, cigarette packets, condoms, blood-stained knickers, contraceptive pill packets, reflecting the grim state of Emin’s health. When she left the bed to go to the bathroom, she noticed that the bed itself was a work of art – Her inspiration was to display her embarrassing depravation. Her own unwashed unmade bed that conveyed anguish, depression, and sexual behaviour which revealed one of the bleakest moments of her existence, so she turned it into an installation.  My Bed 98 was nominated for the 1999 Turner Prize. The nomination received backlash from an art world not yet ready for Emin’s conceptualism or a woman so open and frank about her emotional health and sexual encounters.  The bed sold for 3.77 million dollars in 2014.  

Via the Tate Museum.

Confessional art brings controversy and debate. By its nature, it tends to provoke intense reactions. While some people find confessional art inspirational and relevant, many others consider it distasteful. Some even simply deny that it is art at all.  Speaking of Emin’s art  Julian Stallabrass a critic said ‘It’s so unmediated, I wonder if it’s art,’ whilst Chair of Arts Council England  Nicolas Serota  said “The Young British Artists like Hirst and Tracey Emin made art that people could understand, even if they didn’t like it. Since then the commercial art world in the capital has burgeoned.”  

Emin uses the raw material of her self-mind, body, and soul. Nearly all the experiences Emin draws on for her art are based on her body, like her relationship with sex and the devastation of her abortions. “I realized I was my work, I was the essence of my work”, she said on ITV’s Southbank Show in 2001.  Art becomes, as it always has for Emin, more about a life as art.  Plato asserted that when artists are making or performing art they are imitating.  Emin’s work relates everything we could ever want to know about her life. Her sadness and happiness are her art. Bad luck, shit men, poor sex, treacheries, anorexia, mental health, infidelities, and survival. In Strangelands she penned:

“I remember, when I was about ten years old, working out that I would be thirty-six in the year 2000. It seemed so far away, so old, so unreal. And here I am, a fucked, crazy, anorexic-alcoholic-childless beautiful woman. I never dreamed it would be like this.” 

Emin has consistently supplied an autobiography, relating to the harrowing events of her past, so that her work can be read like a confessional.  However uncomfortable her disclosures appear: troubled childhood, absent father, abortion, rape - they provide an absorbing storyline and they help to explain the underlying emotional reasons for her work which include jealously, fear and revenge. Emin is a possessor of her own sexuality. She is not a silent passive object. She is not subject to patriarchal conditioning: for want of a better example, ‘the-women-on top’. She sticks her middle finger up to the sexist art-historical and popular images that trivialize women. She celebrates sexuality and reclaims her body for herself. Emin is raw in her work. She is direct and uninhibited, tough on men; she is the voice of the single metropolitan female, telling it like it is. She is a champion for the disillusioned generation. Her new feminist is a formidable, self-reliant personality with a sharp, unflinching voice. Emin has re-invented feminist perceptions, the power bitch boasting an uncompromising, seedy eroticism. Emin’s work is her real response to her environment, the world that she deals with.  Her work is about surviving as a woman. Her art speaks volumes to any woman who has struggled through a disadvantaged background. 

Via the Tate Museum.

In 2011 she was made the Royal Academy's Professor of Drawing, one of only two female professors in the history of the institution. Whilst today Emin steers away from the subversive topics of her earlier work, she still powerfully addresses the most emotive qualities of life. Like her most well-known sign on the wall of London’s St Pancras station that reads: ‘I want my time with you’. In the recent ‘self-isolation’ she revealed new autobiographical paintings called ‘I thrive on solitude.’ During the lockdown she said  “I’m in it for the long haul, this is the last stage of my life and I am really going to make the most of it,” she insisted. “I’m not going to fuck up like I have in the past. I expect my work to change dramatically over the next year and if it does not, I will be disappointed. I am very excited to be going into this new phase.”

Emin’s work is liberating. Womanhood and female tragedy as subjects are interesting and fascinating art. In an era where it is still considered shameful to discuss women’s issues, where period talk is still considered appalling, abortion is taboo, and cunts and vulvas are not what a nice lady says, she forces us to look at reality right in the face. By displaying ‘My Bed’ she revealed not only her own conflicts and suffering but the battles many women face in the process of finding themselves. Emin has systemically contested the continuing male bias of the cultural world/gender imbalance, playing a critical role in changing both the art industry and the ways in which we see our world.  Many have accused her of pandering to the lowest form of voyeurism, but ‘Mad Tracey from Margate’ brought attention to issues that desperately needed it, and still do. Emin’s work remains more important than ever. 

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Justina Jameson is an emerging writer from the UK. When she is not writing at the weekend, she can be found holding down a 9 to 5 as a Senior Administrative. Justina has  a Social Welfare and Community Degree which examines the quality of human life in a society in all its dimensions. She feels strongly in female empowerment and believes that women should make personal and professional choices that they want  and not let society make them very guilty about those very choices. Justina likes art,dogs, books, laughter and lives with her long tern partner and their dog Cooper-Star.

emBODY poetry

Below is a series of stills from Mehta’s "emBODY poetry" series in 2019 and 2020, in which models who are traditionally underrepresented and/or hypersexualized in the modern western art world have one of Mehta’s poems painted on their nude form in a safe public setting. EmBODY poetry is an act of reclamation, and a witness of this process for the audience.

Bodies of Water

We are made of the ocean,
spiked with salt and crackling
bones half gone to sand. Within us
is the whole wide sea, swimming
fish and fragile reefs. Sirens
aren’t made up, they tuck
and fold between our ribs—call us
to our depths with songs
that ring of memories. We tell children,
Never turn your back to the waves
not for the unknown, surprise
tsunamis and creeper currents, but for all
the knowing stored
like sunken chests within our marrow.
What goes challenger deep
rises again. In every particle
of our everything, the calcium
that builds our skeleton, we remember
the brine that came before, and all
the leagues of which we’ll go.

All the Ways

Know that

just because we’re quiet
doesn’t mean we aren’t railing inside.
We ate herring in red coats and I told you
all the ways I’d kill myself, how
your lips were wilder than the moon.
It’s a lie

that we’re born alone, die alone.
We arrive

through slick thighs,
wet bellies, and maybe
we’ll never see our mothers again. Maybe
she’ll stick to us like burned
batter all our lonely lives. And we’ll die

with all those lovers, gone
mothers, animals that licked our hurts
knotted like stowaways
in the most secret
desolate chambers of our hearts.
They escort us, shaking

straight into the luminous.

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Jessica Mehta is the poet and performance artist behind these pieces. The photographer for the male model is Erin Smith. The photographer for the female model is Chintan Mehta. Both have provided permissions to publish their photographs. You can learn more about her work at www.jessicamehta.com.

Interview with Artist Lauren Hana Chai

“If I could put these emotions into words I would be able to tell you better about what they would be, but I can’t, therefore I paint. ”

First of all, thank you so much for your time and for agreeing to do this interview! We really really love your work, the strength of it and the sexuality, but more than that, there’s an incredibly emotional sensitivity that really resonates in each piece. Can you tell us about what your intentions are for your work, and what would you like your viewers to take away from it?

Emotionality is always at the core of my work, whether it is titillating, awe-inspiring, disgust, or more often than not, a conflicting emotional soup of it all. As long as the viewer feels strongly one way or another about my work, I feel like I’ve done my job. 

You talk a lot about spirituality and your spiritual experiences. How have they changed your life/outlook and how do they influence the mythological aspects of your work?

As much as I like to talk about spirituality, I don’t necessarily like calling myself a spiritual person as some people’s image of me could be that of an incense burning, green eating, yoga hippie who greets everyone with namaste. Nothing against yoga hippies! But that’s just not me. Spirituality is in my life because I am not put together at all. I am by nature, a ball of chaos. I didn’t take a lot of personal responsibility when I was younger and as I’m approaching 30, it’s about time that I tried to figure that shit out. Being humble, grateful, having respect for living and non-living beings, surrendering myself to faith and love, letting go of attachments, moving forward from my past, bringing in the light to my shadow side. It’s easier to call these ‘spiritual’ practices versus one practice such as christianity, hinduism or shamanism, but really I think bringing structure into one’s life is universal and goes beyond subscribing to a dogma. 

The symbols I paint frequently, such as the Korean peach and sacred fungus, are tied to symbols of longevity in Korean classical folk paintings. Back then, these paintings were limited to high-class wealthy merchants to enjoy. I paint these symbols today for everyone to enjoy, and I truly feel that I am giving my blessings to the person I am painting as I usually paint people who are close to me. More than just an image, it is an energy. 

Do you see any connections between some of your more personal pieces about your own life journey and the larger statements your work has made about sexuality and politics?

Absolutely, it is all connected. Having been raised by my traditional Korean grandparents in the United States, (a polar-opposite culture), I spent a lot of time questioning my identity, heritage, and history, and painting has been my therapy throughout it all. Sexuality was shamed growing up and so as I was exploring it in my personal life, as an art student it exploded in my work as well. I wasn’t ashamed anymore, I was free. Especially because I was living in San Francisco at that time, which is kink central, I felt at home with my fellow freaks. Later my work developed from painting things such as a close-up of my friend’s spread wet pussy to more layered concepts which still involved sexuality one way or another. For example ‘American Pie’ is a depiction of the racial makeup of the U.S. which involves everyone either fucking or fighting. Each person in this painting is rendered out to show their individuality. This piece accompanies another painting ‘Korean Pie’ (unfinished) which in contrast highlights South Korea’s unity and nationalism. As a Korean American, I live in this grey area and see the pros and cons of my different cultures and beliefs. 

What do you see as the largest struggles of your work as an artist?

Keeping a lid on my ADD and wanting to constantly transition in my artwork. Speaking completely in terms of the art business world, constantly changing your work is not good. I used to have a lot of struggles with some galleries as a student and right after graduating. Now I’ve learned to keep that lid loose and I have found a way to work in a series of works, spread concepts out and transition slowly. 

What do you believe is the role of an artist in society, especially one who works in the margins and is a member of the LGBTQ community?

Painting your personal truth, no matter what it is. I honestly don’t really think about what my role is as an LGBTQ artist in this society but rather just focus on developing and constantly bettering myself as a person and an artist. It’s only when I hear from other people, usually Asian American women or LGBTQ people who take the time to tell me how much they relate to me through my work, that I think “Oh hey, I did something here”. For someone to never have met me, look at my painting and tell me that they get it, that that’s their life too, it’s really an amazing feeling. 

“My innocent intentions became a catalyst for people to project their own perceptions of sexuality. ”

How has your art influenced your perception of sex, and vice versa?

As I mentioned earlier, a sexual explosion happened in my life and thus in my art and during that time I painted these subjects purely out of freedom of expression, embracing myself and not caring what anyone thought. After a while I questioned a lot of what kind of message I am putting out there painting such explicit paintings as a woman. Many people thought that my paintings were done by a man and were always surprised to see that I was a woman. I’ve butted heads with some of the more conservative feminists who claimed I was objectifying women. My innocent intentions became a catalyst for people to project their own perceptions of sexuality. For a while I was in fuck it mode but then I even doubted myself thinking that people will only like my art because the paintings are sexual and I was known as that erotic painter. I switched gears and was simultaneously exploring my identity a lot at that time as I was finally dealing with abandonment issues from my mom going missing when I was 11. I painted my Last Known Locations series which were 6 paintings of 6 cities of my mom’s actual last known locations..and I think it should go without saying that they weren’t sexy at ALL. After this dark turn, light entered my life and I started painting about my Korean culture and history in bright explosive colors. However, I found that I couldn’t get away from the eroticsm. Sexuality creeped back into these paintings as well but now in the form of painting about the Korean comfort women who were sexual slaves getting raped, or even painting about my own sexual abuse. Or in more subtle ways with a sexy exposed muscular back of a strong Japanese woman with the words “Otoko Masari” (basically meaning tomboy in Japanese) written above her. Or my paintings now of sexually suggestive poses of women eating these sacred fungus. There are many sides to my sexuality. I’ve embraced eroticism in a different way now and I don’t regret anything.

You talk a lot about how your work is about emotion… what emotions do you think your art conveys, both to you and to viewers?

It’s a spectrum of emotions, really. Some paintings convey empowerment, some defeat. Sometimes excitement or anxiety. Usually there’s some kind of struggle going in such as in my recent series “The Little Death” where there is a play between sex and death, the desire to live forever but also the inevitable return of our bodies to nature. If I could put these emotions into words I would be able to tell you better about what they would be, but I can’t, therefore I paint. 

You’ve mentioned your experiences with DMT as well. How much have those experiences informed your art, and how?

My trip reminded me that love can solve everything. It’s a grandiose statement and ultimately not true, but also kind of true. Love is not just a significant other, it's a belief in morals, ethics, respect for your fellow human. It’s building a life and striving towards living a life of love that helps move this world forward. Love creates. I wanted to portray that message onto canvas and so I started a triptych called Souls In Motion which is not the exact depiction of what I saw and experienced, but more of a positive message inspired by my trip. In short, it is a Korean mythological folk version of Hieronymus Bosch’s “Garden of Earthly Delights” which rather than painting about hell, depicts how we can heal from fear.

What are the biggest sacrifices that you’ve made for your art?

Without a doubt money and financial stability. I’m not so much of a starving artist now but I’m definitely still broke. I can’t go on fancy trips or buy a lot of new clothing but I’m very good at window shopping! It’s money in, money out. Any art sales go straight back into buying supplies or paying bills etc. I’ve had to adapt to a minimal lifestyle and it might sound bad but I honestly enjoy it, less things equals less clutter and less stress in my life. Whatever it takes to be able to paint what I want everyday and I’m a happy woman.

“Remember that you are not separate from your art, art is an extension of you.”

What is something you’d like other women who enjoy/do art to know?

If you’re pursuing art as a career, the smart thing to do is get a part time job. Have some stable income coming in to supplement your art. Remember that you are not separate from your art, art is an extension of you. Also writing things down helps, keep a notebook to organize your reflections and thoughts on your art. Ultimately do what makes you happy!

PS. Please feel free to talk about anything you’d like to, along with this, or if you want to drop anything about future projects!

I have a mini solo show coming up in LA at Thinkspace Gallery on June 27th called “The Little Death”. Other than that you can stay up to date on all my art on Instagram as I post there pretty frequently. 

Follow Lauren Hana Chai on Instagram here, and find her incredible work for purchase at her website here.