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