an international and interdisciplinary journal of postmodern cultural sound, text and image
Volume 4, July 2007, ISSN 1552-5112
One Among Several – The Traditional Gaze Seduced:
Toward A More Complex Understanding of Eros in Modernism
I would like to see
feminist art historians, critics, and theorists become more sensitive to the
philosophical difficulties of attempting to break down authoritative modes of
analysis (the 1970’ and 1980’s models of feminist critical practice), while
retaining a political thrust in our
practice. That is, we want to argue for certain "ways of seeing" (as
John Berger would have it) but without legislating these ways as the only ways.
We want to be forceful, passionate, and politicized without sliding into
prescriptions... We might be more flexible, acknowledging when our models no
longer work, rather than trying to hang on to them at the cost of blinding
ourselves to new kinds of visual culture and critical practice (Amelia Jones).[1]
I.
Introduction
The exhibition
Eros in Modern Art[2] can be read in a number of ways. A straight-forward
content analysis would reveal that the vast majority of art works on display
(around 93%) were made by men. Among these works one could also make a strong
case that the presence of works such as Renoir’s Elongated Nude, Renoir’s Flying
figure or Van Dongen’s Young Girl
are classic examples
1. Renoir Elongated Nude, 1902 (Private
Collection).[3]
of the traditional male/patriarchal gaze of Western
art as it exerted its influence on modern artists. It might even be possible to
make a feminist inspired case that a significant number of the works on display
are products of that gaze.
2. Rodin Flying
Figure, 1891[4] 3.
Kees Van Dongen. Fille Nue, 1907.[5]
(Beyeler Foundation,
Indeed, an endless debate could be invested in the
wisdom behind the selection and exclusion of works in this show. (For example
the curious exclusion of Sylvia Sleigh’s The
Turkish Bath or Prudence Heward’s self portrait Girl Under a Tree[6]).
4.
Sylvia Sleigh The Turkish Bath, 1973[7]
(Private
Collection)
I am supportive of gender sensitive readings of this
show as long as these are also aware of one of the “new directions in critical
practice” present in this show, of the kind Amelia Jones refers to (above).
Specifically,
I wish to draw attention to the Eros
exhibition as a show containing multiple narratives on modern and postmodern
art. The curators of this show seek to deepen the complexity of understanding
eros in modern art by placing non-traditional narratives alongside of the
traditional heterosexual male centered one. This means that the telling of both
old and new stories is important to Eros.
One of the ironic outcomes of this effort, and it is one striking success of Eros, is that when the old male centered
view is reduced to but one of many narratives, it can be appreciated as just
one “way of seeing” eros. Such a show is both the product of, and a further
challenge to, feminized understandings. Foucault’s question: “What matter who’s
speaking/painting?” is unavoidable because – as this show illustrates – it also
matters greatly who is listening/viewing.
I begin by
discussing works from the show which are easily understood as representatives
of the traditional male centered view of art and the male gaze (Renoir, Rodin,
van Dongen). I move from these to less certain works by other male artists of
the day which can be understood as both part of that same limited narrative,
and at the same time, as part of a challenge to that traditional view.
Following this I examine works in the show which come from more contemporary
sources and bring a level of complexity to thinking about eros in modernism.
Finally, I look at works in the show which challenge feminism to embrace a
multiplicity of views of eros, including the traditional one as but one among
several.
II. The
Despised Works of Modernism?
The world no
longer looks the way it did before feminism.[8] Contemporary
curatorial practice can no longer take place outside of feminist thought
or audiences unaware of gender sensitive perspectives. One of the most
interesting conclusions I have taken from Eros
is that the show’s curators are convinced that visitors to the show are feminized
subjects. This is something that the curators were willing to engage at
As one entered
the Eros in Modernism show two of the
first works that were encountered were arch exemplars used by feminist critics
of the male gaze of modernism: Renoir’s Elongated
Nude and Rodin’s Flying Figure.
Both works fit into a tradition of presenting the female body for the (assumed)
male spectator and as such have long been targets of feminist art criticism.
Before long, one is greeted by other works that can be fitted neatly into a
more traditional feminist criticism of the male gaze (such as Van Dongen’s Nude Girl), which are also presented
without any of the problematizing didactic text one might have expected from
less confident curators.
Passing
through the first four rooms of the exhibition we are challenged to recall
recent art history as a question is silently posed by the presentation of the
works: “Do the curators expect us to accept such works unproblematically given
everything that has been said and written about the male gaze in Western art in
recent times?” Of course not – and the very fact you are thinking this is the
first step in the very subtle engagement the curators of this show wish to
make. Thirty years ago the curators, not expecting as much of their audience,
could easily have been expected to play a greater role by way of didactic text.[9] Today’s feminized consumer of art and art history
coming to vital sites in the art world (such as the Beyeler Foundation), are
treated with greater respect. Questions such as: “Do they expect us to accept
Rodin and Renoir or Van Dongen (and I have long loved Van Dongen’s
expressionist eroticism) as unproblematic representations of Eros?” come
readily to mind. As I slowly made my way
through the first few rooms burdened with my question, I met other works
which only deepened my dis-ease with the possible goals of the curators. The
curators had me where they wanted me when I passed beyond Renoir, Rodin and van
Dongen, into rooms with representations of traditional male dominance in
sexuality such as Isoda Korjusai’s Schunga,
or Emile Nolde’s Point of Madness
5. Isoda Korjusai Schunga
c 1765-88[10] 6. Emile Nolde Point of Madness, 1919[11]
(Private Collection). (Nolde
Collection, Seebull).
(which follows a Toulouse-Laurtrecian re-presentation
of women for male consumers, in this case in a night club). Prudence Heward was
certainly on this Canadian’s mind as was the German expressionist Paula
Modersohn-Becker’s Self Portrait, as
she was a European contemporary of Nolde. Surely, if the curators were seeking
to fully problematize the traditional narrative—works like this which are well
known to the international artistic community would have been included.[12]
7. Paula Modersohn-Becker Self Portrait, 8. Prudence Heward. Girl
Under A Tree (1927)
1906[13] (
Passing beyond
the works of Korjudsai, Nolde, (and others like them) I began to form two
possible responses to the exhibition: 1) A kind of disappointed anger at the
curators if the dominance of traditional understandings of eros continued, or
2) a growing awareness that a trap had been set by curators in an attempt to
evoke anger – only to allow the works to assuage that anger as the visitor
passed further into the exhibition. It would not be didactic texts that would
be used to problematize these works – it would be the entire show, the art
works themselves taken as a relational whole, that would problematize not
merely a few works, but rather, the entire traditional narrative of modernism.
Modern art
contains many expressions of eros several of which were valued by the curators
of this exhibition. As it turns out, the feminized subject, in the opinion of
the curators (and myself after seeing the show), is perfectly able to accept
such works as expressions of eros when they are set in the context of a more
complex and diverse set of narratives than the traditional modernist
understanding of itself would allow. By stacking a large number of traditional
works in the early rooms of the show, the curators succeeded in raising an
awareness of diversity, multiplicity, and complexity, by their very absence.
This is why I say the curators were assuming a feminized gallery going visitor
who would ask precisely these questions. In the next section I examine some of
the works in this exhibition that add many layers of complexity to the
modernist narrative.
III. A
Layer of Complexity
As long as women’s art is treated as an ‘exotic
other’ it will continue to be marginalized. Also, it is high time that men’s
images, which have been one of the primary ways through which both men and women
have formulated their ideas about the female, start to be reexamined in
relation to the ever increasing body of art by women which challenges male
perception (Judy Chicago, 1998).[15]
The old
patriarchal modernist narrative embraced and constructed the view of eros we
find in the works of Renoir, Rodin, Van Dongen or Nolde (above) – works in
which we can argue that a relatively straight-forward understanding of eros is
represented. Other artists present however, such as Rops, von Stuck, Klimt,
Scheile, and Foujita served to add a layer of complexity to the stories being
told. I would add that I would not be disturbed by someone arguing that these
very works actually deepened the showing of the traditional gaze. It is for
this reason why I would have liked to see works such as the Heward and the
Modersohn-Becker included, as these works add impressive female representations
of eros to the dialogue. Such works allow us to go beyond the traditional male
dominant modernist narrative which, as it turns out, was never so certain or
unproblematic. Indeed, to not look for complexity within this very narrative is
to be seduced by a view of its simplicity –
9. Franz von Stuck. The
Kiss, 1895[16] 10.
Felicien Rops The Visit, 1878[17]
(
11. Gustav Klimt. Sitting
Woman With 12. Alphonse Mucha. La Trappistine[18]
Thighs Spread, 1917[19] (Private Collection). (Private Collection).
always a dangerous position to occupy in a thoughtful
forum of the arts today (such as Beyeler).
In these less
certain works by Rops, von Stuck, Klimt, Scheile or Foujita we discover works
that can be fit into one of at least two narratives. If we want to settle for a
less demanding reading, one much more in line with modernism’s long held self
understanding (and ironically akin to some 1970s and 1980s feminist readings),
one finds five works very close to the Renoir, Rodin and van Dongen (above).
Such a view could see these works as exemplars of the male gaze – a classic scene
of women masturbating for the male pornographic gaze (Rops and Klimt); a sphinx
devouring an unwitting man (von Stuck); and young 
13. Egon Scheile Women
Embracing, 14. Leonard Tsugouharu
Foujita The Two,
1911[20] (Private Collection). Friends,
1926[21] (Private Collection).
female lovers presented for a presumed male viewer
(Scheile and Foujita) although in the later two cases this is a much more
difficult case to make. Indeed, if one were out to make the more simple case as
a curator why not bring in works such as Mucha’s La Trappistine (the classic view of woman as evil temptress – see
illustration 12 above) not included in this show?
At a more
challenging level, we can see the presence of the works by Rops, von Stuck,
Klimt, Scheile and Foujita, as evidence of a curatorial awareness of the need
to problematize the traditional patriarchal views from deep within the history
of modernism. Whatever else may be present in these works, and all works of art
can be read from perspectives other than the traditional, we can also see
sensitive explorations of women loving women, and a woman in the dominant role
in the one of the five works in which a male is present at all. In the other
four works, women – although painted in each case by a man – speak also to the
non-necessity of the male in the experience of eros. Indeed, the presence of
Klimt’s masturbating young woman makes a nice parenthesis to a work by David
Hockney (Mo Nude, see illustration 15) which appears later in the show. Both
are artistic renderings of perfectly natural expressions of the auto-erotic.
Further, the presence of the Hockney forces us to return to simplistic readings
of the Klimt while asking the question “what matter who is speaking/ painting?”
It would matter very much I think if the Klimt appeared in this show without
the Hockney (or a similar rendering of male autoeroticism) and this is
precisely how the curators of this show allow the works to deepen, complicate,
and problematize our perspective on them. The Beyeler Foundation shows works at
a level beyond simple readings as the internal dialogue between the works’
demands.
15. David Hockney. Mo Nude, 1968[22]
(Private Collection)
The later
rooms in the show continue to introduce significant complexity in the multiple
views of eros present. This is, I think, an indication that the curators of
this show understand seduction as a form of challenge to power. Seduction is
present in the Eros show as
non-traditional perspectives challenge and eventually overturn the dominance of
the masculine. Seduction is not a place where women are to be located in
relation to men as evil temptresses (as in the Mucha which was excluded from
this exhibition) precisely because such a work has nothing to do with eros.
Indeed, a Baudrillard-inspired reading of von Stuck ‘s The Kiss brings to the fore the power of the feminine over the
masculine (in a reading where men and women each possess the masculine and the
feminine). This links seduction to an understanding of reversibility where
women have long held a privileged position in confronting and reversing male
power and dominance. While some feminists may remain uncomfortable with this
reading[23], feminism itself can be seen as the most seductive
of contemporary theories – and therefore, not surprisingly, as the most
successful of contemporary theories.
Von Stuck’s painting can be read in this
light as a feminine reversal of the masculine dominant role in modernist art
(whatever his own intentions might have been as an artist). Likewise, Gustav
Klimt’s Sitting Woman With Thighs Spread,
Egon Scheile’s Women Embracing, and Leonard Tsugouharu Foujita’s The Two Friends can be read as sensitive and powerful
reversals of the male as he is thrust outside of the frame and made redundant
by the woman’s ability to give pleasure to other women and herself. Of course a
traditionally-minded male spectator would enjoy Klimt’s young woman in an
objectifying manner (as might a lesbian viewer – for we all objectify, at least
to some extent, people to whom we are attracted), but the Scheile and Foujita
deeply problematize the traditional gaze. If the Klimt were seen as a work akin
to pornography, as some might argue – the Scheile and Foujita pose the women’s
subjectivity in a way that works to compromise an objectifying gaze. Such is
the power of reversibility and seduction on works such as these in art history.[24] I think this is the kind of re-reading of male works
in light of feminist practice and art historical analysis that Judy Chicago is
desirous of in the quotation which opens this section.
Before moving
on I should refer to another curious omission from the show – the work of
Tamara Limpicka. Limpicka’s lesbian-erotic figures have long made a powerful
challenge to traditional male dominated notions of eros. In any event, the
works of Klimt, Scheile, and Foujita which do make it into the exhibition, work
to deepen the problematization of the limited version of the modernist
narrative beyond the earlier efforts of Rops and von Stuck—
16. Tamara Limpicka The
Two Friends, 17. Tamara
Limpicka Kizette, 1926[25] (Fine
1923,[26] (Private Collection).
although they do not excuse the paucity of women
artists in the overall exhibition. This of course brings us to the question:
What is the place of women in the Eros
exhibition?
IV. Women
Artists in Eros in Modernism
While Eros in Modernism works to encourage
alternative readings of modernism (including feminist perspectives), it fails
to present a sufficient number of women artists. Among those included are Merit
Oppenheim who appears twice: once as a subject of Man Ray’s Untitled photograph of 1930,[27]
18. Valerie Export Still photograph 19. Robert Mapplethorpe
Christopher Holly,
from the action: Genital
Panic, 1981[28] (Gallery Thaddeus Ropac).
1969.[29] (Besitz der Künsterin,
and a second time as an artist in her work Mona Lisa’s Eye of 1967. Stunningly
absent however is Oppenheim’s delicious surrealist-lesbian icon, Object, Breakfast in Fur, which was so
adored by Andre Breton.
20. Louise Bourgeois Fillette, Sweeter
Version, 1968/1999[30] (Gallery Karsten
Greve)
21. Man Ray Erotique
Violée,[31] 22. Meret Oppenheim Object: Breakfast in
1933 (Pompidou
Centre, Paris). Fur, 1936[32] (MOMA,
Several works of Louise Bourgeois find their way into
this exhibition as does a photograph of her by Mapplethorpe in which she is
holding Fillette. There is also work
on display from Valerie Export (above), Cindy Sherman, Marlene Dumas, Rosemarie
Trockel, Rebecca Horn, and Pipilotti Rist.
We should
recognize that some part of the explanation for the under representation of
women artists rests with a lack of works to show. It was simply too risky for
women artists of early modernism to represent eros in their work. It was the
1920s before two women occupy a table in a Parisian café without a male
chaperone and not be considered prostitutes. Still, many great works of eros by
women artists do not appear in this show. Along with the works of Lempicka and
Oppenheim already mentioned, where is the work of Heward, Modersohn-Becker,
Alison Watt, or Kay Sage to name a few (not to mention many contemporary women
photographers)?
23. Marlene Dumas Porno
Blues, 1993[33]
(Private Collection).
In a show that does challenge the traditional
masculinist narrative so well, and a show that includes the work of seven women
artists, these works still represent only 6 percent of works in the show which
are reproduced in the catalogue: (10 of 170 by my count), and just under 7 percent
of artists whose works were included in the show (7 of 97 by my count). So how
does Eros in Modernism challenge
traditional views of eros in modern art?
V.
Challenging the Traditional View of Eros
Despite
the exclusion of several women artists who have dealt with eros in their work,
I must also acknowledge the success of this exhibition in challenging the
traditional modernist narrative in important ways. The works of Robert
Mapplethorpe and David Hockney (above) play no small role in this challenge.
Here is the male as object of the male gaze (at minimum) and the inclusion of
the traditionally excluded gay face of modernism. Lucy Lippard has pointed out
that it matters very much who is being represented by whom and then looked upon
by whom. This has been one of the more significant contributions of feminist
scholarship in which writers such as Lippard and Griselda Pollock have
participated. Why then would we not include the traditional despised works of
the male gaze such as Renoir, Rodin and van Dongen alongside those of
Mapplethorpe, Hockney, Valerie Export and Louise Bourgeois? Indeed, the
traditional works in the show allow us to see the diversity of modern art
through the diversity of the gazes present in this show. Given the success of
feminism and women artists in forcing a revision in art history, we can no
longer make assumptions about the “way of seeing” of the person viewing an art
work. If we cannot accept the Renoir or the Rodin on gendered grounds, then
what are we to do with the Mapplethorpe or the Hockney? (assuming that the
viewer is not Jessie Helms). The irony of inclusivity in the contemporary is
that Renoir’s view or Rodin’s is not longer so easily despised as in 1970s or
1980s feminist criticism, but is reduced to being one of many views of eros.
Renoir and Rodin’s understanding of eros, challenged as it is by Mapplethorpe
or Export, is neither superior nor inferior than its challengers. Further, if
Rodin’s Flying Figure is to be
despised because it objectifies the female figure’s sexual organs, what are we
to do with Louise Bourgeois Fillette (Sweeter Version)? The works of Renoir,
Bourgeois, Rodin, van Dongen, Mapplethorpe, Klimt and Hockney are in this show
because such diverse works should be in a show called Eros in Modernism. If we are to object to the van Dongen or the
Klimt shown above, then what are we to do with Hockney’s Mo Nude? The strength of this show is that it is as diverse as it
is and the dominant perspective is pushed to the margins where all perspectives
rest in postmodern discourse.
Works such as
the Renoir or Rodin that a majority of feminists have understood to be sexist
may well be understood in a different manner by a lesbian subjectivity. The
next lesbian or bisexual viewer may have a reaction much more in line with that
of the majority of earlier feminist critics. Eros then goes some distance as a show that includes feminist
critique of art history and curatorial practice although it does need to show
more women artists. Eros, while
presenting the traditional narrative as just one narrative among many,
including sensitivity to gender and sexual diversity, challenges tradition by
showing it to be but one view. While doing this Eros asks some interesting questions which also challenge feminism
today in serious manner. To do this we also need to look at other works on
display: Richter’s Student, Bonnard’s
L’Eau de Cologne, Picabia’s Upright Nude Model, and
VI. Further
Complexity
The
feeling that I was to be subjected to a thoroughly traditional understanding of
eros in modernism began to dissipate before I was half way through the show. To
end my assessment of this exhibition I wish to look at four works which were on
display, viewing them as a challenge to feminism to embrace the kind of
diversity accomplished by the curators of this show.
24. Pierre Bonnard L’Eau
de Cologne, 25. Francis Picabia Upright
Nude Model,
1908[34] (
Over the past
two decades one of the strongest areas of growth for feminist approaches has
been an embrace of sexual diversity. Someone interested in pursuing a gender or
sex-based criticism of modern art is typically prepared to accept the work of
gay and lesbian artists such as Mapplethorpe or Meret Oppenheim. I do not
anticipate many feminists objecting to my criticism of Eros for its exclusion of Oppenheim’s work or my endorsement of the
exhibition for including Foujita’s rendering of the female to female experience
of eros. “But just how far are we expected to go” some feminists might ask “in
embracing multiple narratives given the specific history of art in the west?”.
According to this show, and I do not think it a bad thing, we must be prepared
to go all the way. I found myself adopting a position in support of this show
(after having seen it all), that would have surprised me after passing through
only the first four rooms where my feminist sensitivities were aroused.
26. Gerhard Richter Student,
1967[36] 27.
Helmut Newton American Olbricht Collection.
(
The challenge
to feminism, and it is one that 21st century feminism is well
prepared to embrace, is for a show like Eros
to appeal to multiple understandings and representations of Eros. The deep irony of this is that
works that would have been unacceptable twenty-five years ago can now see the
light of day in such exhibitions. If we are to embrace Mapplethorpe as bringing
a certain equality of the image to Eros,
how can we exclude Richter’s Student?
Similarly the work of an artist from an earlier time such as Bonnard or Picabia
may be seen as one more expression of eros. Finally, the Helmut Newton
photograph extends the tradition of von Stuck to a place where the female may
be presented as dominant in a contemporary context and be taken as just one
more view of Eros. By the time I had
reached Picabia’s upright model I had come to understand that something very
different was happening at Eros: such
a work could be appreciated simply as an expression of eros. What made my
experience of the Picabia truly interesting was the presence of two young women
standing in front of it who had been there when I entered this room. As I
approached them one of the young women said “Isn’t she sexy?” The other young
woman replied: “she’s perfect”. I hope everyone who had the privilege to be in
the presence of all of these works (many of which are hidden away in private
collections and rarely seen), had the same feeling in front of the Picabia, the
Man Ray photograph of Oppenheim, the Hockney, the Mapplethorpes and so on. I
also understand that given the particular histories which have shaped certain
individual subjectivities—my view may not be shared.
VII.
Conclusion
For me, the Eros exhibition is wrapped in a series
of complex and evolving challenges in the art world at the present time.[38] It is far from a perfect show as I have pointed out,
but it does contain both an affirming response to the challenge of feminist art
scholarship and at the same time, not surprisingly, returns a certain challenge
to feminism – one that this feminist accepts as fair although other feminist
critics may not. The effect of Eros for me is that
it makes an important contribution to the decentering of the traditional male
gaze in such a manner that this gaze is reduced to simply one more point of
view. Ironically this places us in a position where some of the most despised
works (by earlier feminist critics) of traditional male artists come to occupy
a new place of value alongside expressions of eros from formerly excluded
groups. To state this empirically by way of three examples from the show
itself, if we are to view Robert Mapplethorpe’s photograph of Christopher Holly (1981) as a non
offensive work, then we must look anew at Renoir’s Elongated Nude of 1902. Similarly, if we are to positively value
Louise Bourgeois Fillette (Sweeter
Version) or David Hockney’s Mo Nude
as exemplars of contemporary visions of eros, then we will have to look again
at Rodin’s Flying Figure (1891) and
Kees Van Dongen’s Nude Girl (1907) as
not the story of Eros in modernism, but as simply one story in the
multiple stories that shape eros in modern art. This is perhaps the greatest
achievement of the Eros in Modernism
exhibition at
All
men and women have a gaze just as all of us have desire. I sincerely hope we
can move quickly to a place where the multiplicity of eros may be better appreciated inside and outside of the
exhibition halls of the art world. Eros
in Modern Art, for all of its warts, can be read as having helped us to
take one more step in that direction and it is here that it thoroughly seduces
the traditional narrative.
an international and interdisciplinary journal of postmodern cultural sound, text and image
Volume 4, July 2007, ISSN 1552-5112
Notes
