Saturday, April 16, 2011

Film Purists! Feh!

Water Lilies #1, Polaroid Painting, ©2011 Jeane Vogel Studios
Being an art fair artist means that I talk to a lot of people about art. A LOT of people. Literally thousands of people.

Some are knowlegable about art. Most are not. All deserve my attention. I believe we learn from every conversation -- even if I'm annoyed at the time.

A handful just want to impress me with their "superior" knowledge.

Those conversations go something like this:

Man (Sorry, but it's ALAWYS a man): I see you're using film. That's great. I only use film.

Me: Yes, this body of work uses a discontinued Polaroid film. I love the characteristics of the film, but I work in digital too.

Man: Oh, digital isn't real photography. I'm a purist. I only shoot film. Anyone can shoot digital.

Me: A purist? Really? (I'm getting annoyed by this time.) I would think if you're a purist that you would coat your own glass plates and not shoot film. Film is so 20th Century. A PURIST would shoot glass plates.

Man: (reaching for his cell phone) Sorry. I gotta take this.

For years I've been saying, rather sarcastically, that purists would coat their own glass plates. It's the arrogant photographer who thinks that his or her medium is the PURE one and rest of us are lazy hacks. It's the vision --and the ability to communicate that vision -- not the tool, that is important.

Imagine my surprise when I heard Webster Univeristy Photography Professor Extraordinaire and acquaintance Bill Barrett use EXACTLY THOSE SAME WORDS in a discussion about "purists" using the now defunct Kodachrome film during an interview on the local NPR show yesterday.

"Purists would coat their own glass plates," he said.

Now, Bill and I haven't had a chance to spend a lot of time together, and I don't think we're ever heard the other say this line.

My only conclusion: great minds think alike! Thanks for the affirmation, Bill!

And if you're in St. Louis, please go to the May Gallery at Webster to see the Kodachrome exhibit the university put together from the last batch of processed film shot by students and faculty. Buy the book. Support the next generation of artists who dare to work in photography. And support their teachers.

Monday, April 04, 2011

Where IS Feminist Art These Days?

Summer Garden, 9x11 inches, Mixed Media, ©2011 Jeane Vogel, $75.
Beware. I drop the "F" word a lot. I grew up hearing it was a dirty word but I never understood why. It seemed to me to be the most natural thing in the world. 


How could Feminism be offensive? It's a word that proclaims independence and equality and respect for all women.

Except to many people it doesn't mean any of those things. In the '70s it meant that women and men would have to share bathrooms. And women would have to go to war, or work, or not have a chance to be mothers and ultimately fulfilled as women. Oh, F.... Opps. Almost dropped that other "F" word. That’s generally how I respond when I heard those lies that we told to defeat the Equal Rights Amendment -- the Constitutional Amendment that would guarantee equal rights for women.

Instead, what feminism meant to my generation of women -- Baby Boomers -- was reproductive freedom, and equal pay for equal work, and access to education and jobs previously available only to men, and credit in our own names -- in fact the right to keep our own names. We hoped for the chance to go to work and not be sexually harassed. We dreamed of the day our minds would be respected, even if we had great breasts and long slender legs... or especially if we didn't.

The artists among us put these ideals into our art. The artists did what artists always do: they pushed the boundaries of "traditional" art to raise our consciousness and our hopes. Feminist art demanded reforms in the way we thought about women's abilities and women’s bodies. They lifted the veils of modesty that chained women to myths of helplessness and dependence.

It's 40 years later, and I'm left wondering what feminist art is now. Have we come very far?

I’m so grateful to have been able to attend the 2011 Women's Caucus for Art National Conference. It was a delicious orgy of women and art and ideas and challenges to push beyond individual limits. Breathlessly huddled over coffee or beer we asked: What can we do next? How can we do it? Who can we collaborate with to accomplish it? Where will it take us?

On the edge of inspiration was a nagging feeling that feminism, and feminist art, has lost its power and impact. What is feminist art now? What does it mean to women born after Roe v Wade gave women the right to control their reproduction?

We saw a lot of “feminist” art at the national conference. I saw some interesting work, some not. In 2011, is feminist art simply work that has been produced by women? Is it a way to rehash middle class injustices of childhood? Will it change the world? Will anyone ever notice?

Frankly, I was disappointed in the energy and spirit of younger women artists as they presented work they named feminist. Some explored the same themes that challenged their mothers and grandmothers. Do young women of today face the same misogynist  obstacles that we did when Richard Nixon was President? Sometimes. But the 2011 responses seem to be turned inward and personal and mostly consumed with body image.

What have we done to our daughters? Feminism means it’s ok to look the way you look? Well, sure it does. But is that all?

A common feminist theme – reproduction freedom – was nowhere incorporated into new work I saw. Instead, there were throwbacks to visuals of the 1950s. What are younger women trying to tell us? Are they romanticizing those years of emotional and suburban captivation for women?

And when I turn the mirror on myself, I have to ask: Where is my feminist art? Am I championing women or I am falling into self-indulging visual self-stimulation too?

I’m challenging myself. I’m challenging you. I’m not part of that younger generation making feminist art. I’m part of the older group. It’s not my turn to lead the way anymore, but there are still too much for us to say in our art that can turn a head… or a heart… to benefit our sisters.

Let’s create art that will change our world.

This blog was originally published by Jeane Vogel in the March 2011 WCA-St. Louis Newsletter.