How have women of color from minority groups been characterized historical in art? From works created in the 1800s such as George Fuller’s The Quadroon to modern pieces such as Dignity of Earth and Sky by Dale Lamphere, women of color have had a complex history with representation in art. Women in general have often been subjects in art, but often as objects, or as idealized forms, or for political agendas, not often are realistic, human forms. These damaging views have shaped cultural identities and have impacted how we view women of color. Many images of women of color were produced by white artists, mainly male. This should causes us to pause and consider the ramifications of how outsiders projected ideas on women from Asian, African, and other backgrounds.
While contemporary artists work to reconstruct our image of women in minority cultures, they don’t erase the past. Nor should they. Holding in tension past harmful stereotypes perpetuated through art and new images of diverse beauty and dignity are an important part of acknowledging our own brokenness and restoring the Imago Dei of God’s most precious creation: humankind.
As a woman of color, I ask this question for young girls who will step into the well-worn pathways of pondering identity and where they are allowed in society. I hope you will also ask questions, of others, of yourself, of history and listen to the stories that inevitably follow questions.
George Fuller, The Quadroon1880, Massachusetts, oil
on canvas, The MetGeorge Fuller’s painting,
The Quadroon, appears simple on the surface. However, the longer we sit with
the piece and the more we dive into its complex historical significance, the
better we can appreciate its place in its original context and current culture.
A Quadroon was a woman who was one-quarter black by descent. While she bears
the physical appearance of a white female, she cannot escape her predicament of
being born slave and considered black by her bloodline. Historically, women of
color are not often seen as muses or figures of beauty. Instead they are often
portrayed as emotional characters that highlight their social status and appear
downtrodden or forlorn. The fictional Quadroon woman in this painting is no
exception. As a character created by a white man from his recollections of
travel, she embodies her classes’ hopelessness. Yet, she has a quiet dignity as
well that begs us to consider her and her human-ness, instead of her just her
idealization. Paul Gauguin, Spirit of the Dead Watching
1892, oil on canvas, Albright Knox Art
Gallery
This painting, created in
the 1800s, by a privileged white male of a young colored girl should cause us
to pause. Visually, it feels eerie due mainly to intense use of space and color.
The form of the young girl dominates most of the painting while the remaining
space is filled with dark spaces and a mysterious watcher figure. Historical
context provides an entry into this uncomfortable space. Gauguin is painting a
young Tahitian woman who is both his mistress and muse. She, Tehura, serves as
a prop for his selfish explorations of the culture of the Pacific Islands. This
painting was unfortunately not one-of-a-kind and forces us to wrestle with the
painful truth that minority women’s bodies were often portrayed as sexually
available and eternally youthful and fertile, which was and still is a damaging
image to young girls and women of color.
Jean
Etenne Liotard, Portrait of a Young Woman
Late 18th century, pastel, Saint Louis Art Museum
In Liotard’s portrait of a Young Woman, her
identity was ambiguous for a long time. Thought to be a well-known poet or
English woman, evidence now shows that this is likely a portrait of an Islander
woman from the Caribbean. This piece feels like a rupture in our archive as it
highlights the beauty of a woman of color and dignifies her in ways we don’t
often see in classical paintings created by the white majority. It serves as a
reminder that while many paintings of the past hold harmful stereotypes, there
are also those that give dignity, if we seek them out and learn their history.Dorothea Lange, Migrant Mother1936, California, gelatin silver print, MoMAThe complicated past of
this photograph shows the messy ways art has been used for political agendas,
to the harm of those involved. This portrait appeared to the public as an emotional
image of the suffering and poverty of those fleeing the dust bowl during the
Great Depression. However, the women in the photograph’s story vastly differed
from the imaged tale of the photographer. Lange imaged a woman on the verge of
collapse, in the depths of poverty, struggling with hopelessness. Nearly 50
years later, Florence Owens Thompson set the record straight. She was the women
in the photograph and wanted to inform the public of her true story. This
single snapshot reduced her to a victim of the current cultural crisis and removed
many important features of her life, such as her Cherokee heritage and fierce
hopefulness in a time of despair. She became a prop in a political agenda,
without her consent. Unfortunately, this has been a common issue for women of
color throughout history.
Amy
Sherald, Michelle Obama
2018, oil on
linen, National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution
This painting of former First
Lady, Michelle Obama is distinctly original in the art field as draws us into
considerations about its place in its collection, the subject matter, and the
cultural significance. The Presidential portraits are mainly classically
painted and are showcases of traditional American art style. Most of the women
featured in these portraits look similar… they are white women in official
office spaces, in business clothing. However, Michelle Obama is the first
African-American First Lady, and she poses in a colorful dress against a bright
blue background. This is a shift in a culture where visual arts have placed
women of color in positions of servitude or secondary roles. Instead, here is
an African-American women in power, painted by another African-American women. This
piece embodies a bold declaration that Michelle Obama, a Black woman, can be an
icon of power in this country.
Amanda
Phingbodhipakkiya, “I Still Believe in
Our City”
2020, graphic prints, New York City Installation
Amanda Phingbodhipakkiya,
an Asian-American artist, created a series of portraits of Asian-Americans
during the COVID-19 pandemic to highlight the ways New York City was riddled
with the tensions of racism directed to a minority group. Her work, simply by
existing, presses against layers of assumptions of Asian femininity and what it
means to be American. These are not traditional Asian women. They are not
quiet, submissive, or meek. They are not porcelain beauties, dressed in qipaos
or other traditional garb. They are bold, they gaze directly at us, the viewer,
and force us to acknowledge their right to the same space as us. They feel real
and tangibly human. They confidently state, “I am Asian. I am American.”
Dale Lamphere, Dignity of Earth and Sky
2015-16, Fabricated Stainless Steel, Chamberlain, South Dakota
“Dignity” is a modern
sculpture that demonstrates pride in Indigenous Heritage. She stands tall and
looks over the plains of South Dakota, the lands of her ancestors. This
sculpture revises the visual narrative of Indigenous people. She is separated
from themes of colonization and assimilation to white culture. Instead, she dons
her traditional garments and doesn’t not exist as an extension to the majority white
culture but as a noble member of her own Indigenous culture. She begs the
question, what can we create when see the beauty of women of minority cultures
and reimagine their legacy?
Paul Gauguin, Spirit of the Dead Watching
1892, oil on canvas, Albright Knox Art Gallery
This painting, created in the 1800s, by a privileged white male of a young colored girl should cause us to pause. Visually, it feels eerie due mainly to intense use of space and color. The form of the young girl dominates most of the painting while the remaining space is filled with dark spaces and a mysterious watcher figure. Historical context provides an entry into this uncomfortable space. Gauguin is painting a young Tahitian woman who is both his mistress and muse. She, Tehura, serves as a prop for his selfish explorations of the culture of the Pacific Islands. This painting was unfortunately not one-of-a-kind and forces us to wrestle with the painful truth that minority women’s bodies were often portrayed as sexually available and eternally youthful and fertile, which was and still is a damaging image to young girls and women of color.
Jean Etenne Liotard, Portrait of a Young Woman
Late 18th century, pastel, Saint Louis Art Museum
The complicated past of this photograph shows the messy ways art has been used for political agendas, to the harm of those involved. This portrait appeared to the public as an emotional image of the suffering and poverty of those fleeing the dust bowl during the Great Depression. However, the women in the photograph’s story vastly differed from the imaged tale of the photographer. Lange imaged a woman on the verge of collapse, in the depths of poverty, struggling with hopelessness. Nearly 50 years later, Florence Owens Thompson set the record straight. She was the women in the photograph and wanted to inform the public of her true story. This single snapshot reduced her to a victim of the current cultural crisis and removed many important features of her life, such as her Cherokee heritage and fierce hopefulness in a time of despair. She became a prop in a political agenda, without her consent. Unfortunately, this has been a common issue for women of color throughout history.
Amy Sherald, Michelle Obama
This painting of former First
Lady, Michelle Obama is distinctly original in the art field as draws us into
considerations about its place in its collection, the subject matter, and the
cultural significance. The Presidential portraits are mainly classically
painted and are showcases of traditional American art style. Most of the women
featured in these portraits look similar… they are white women in official
office spaces, in business clothing. However, Michelle Obama is the first
African-American First Lady, and she poses in a colorful dress against a bright
blue background. This is a shift in a culture where visual arts have placed
women of color in positions of servitude or secondary roles. Instead, here is
an African-American women in power, painted by another African-American women. This
piece embodies a bold declaration that Michelle Obama, a Black woman, can be an
icon of power in this country.
Amanda Phingbodhipakkiya, “I Still Believe in Our City”
2020, graphic prints, New York City Installation
Amanda Phingbodhipakkiya, an Asian-American artist, created a series of portraits of Asian-Americans during the COVID-19 pandemic to highlight the ways New York City was riddled with the tensions of racism directed to a minority group. Her work, simply by existing, presses against layers of assumptions of Asian femininity and what it means to be American. These are not traditional Asian women. They are not quiet, submissive, or meek. They are not porcelain beauties, dressed in qipaos or other traditional garb. They are bold, they gaze directly at us, the viewer, and force us to acknowledge their right to the same space as us. They feel real and tangibly human. They confidently state, “I am Asian. I am American.”
Dale Lamphere, Dignity of Earth and Sky
2015-16, Fabricated Stainless Steel, Chamberlain, South Dakota
“Dignity” is a modern
sculpture that demonstrates pride in Indigenous Heritage. She stands tall and
looks over the plains of South Dakota, the lands of her ancestors. This
sculpture revises the visual narrative of Indigenous people. She is separated
from themes of colonization and assimilation to white culture. Instead, she dons
her traditional garments and doesn’t not exist as an extension to the majority white
culture but as a noble member of her own Indigenous culture. She begs the
question, what can we create when see the beauty of women of minority cultures
and reimagine their legacy?
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