Male Artists Research Articles

Inez Baranay’s Ghosts Like Us as a Stolperstein

ABSTRACT In Multidirectional Memory Michael Rothberg argues that collective memory is best understood as a network connecting apparently disparate historical traumas. His ethical vision pre-empts the need to compete for the space of remembrance and at the same time promotes cross-cultural understanding. Inez Baranay’s novel Ghosts Like Us (2015) offers compelling evidence of Rothberg’s thesis, extending his investigations of the Nazi genocide and colonial atrocities by placing male violence against women at centre stage. The novel is set in Berlin and features three women artists—Erika Kieler, Trudi Zahn, and Lottie Hoffman—at different moments in history: the 1890s, November 1989, and 2009, respectively. This essay analyses Ghosts Like Us as a metaphorical Stolperstein—a small brass plaque originally commemorating Jewish victims of Nazism. Lottie, a young Australian artist of German ancestry, comes across these “stumbling stones” in contemporary Berlin as she is preparing to perform in a cabaret show marking the twentieth anniversary of the fall of the Wall. In the novel, the Stolpersteine function as multidimensional symbols coupling the Jewish genocide with that of Indigenous Australians, and, by extension, with the victims of sexist violence, as both Erika and Trudi are murdered by male fellow artists, and Lottie is haunted by a similar fate. The fact that each protagonist belongs to a period coinciding with the modern, the postmodern, and the contemporary, invites framing the analysis within transmodernity as the sociohistorical label for our times. By drawing on Rothberg’s theory of multidirectional memory and on Victoria Browne’s theory of polytemporality and “complex coevalness,” my analysis of Ghosts Like Us shows that the synergistic interweaving of the lives and memories of the three protagonists fosters cross-cultural understanding and a new transmodern ethical sensibility.

Review: Transatlantic Encounters: Latin American Artists in Paris between the Wars, by Michele Greet

Review: <i>Transatlantic Encounters: Latin American Artists in Paris between the Wars</i>, by Michele Greet

Zeitwesen: Autobiographik österreichischer Künstlerinnen und Künstler im Spannungsfeld von Politik und Gesellschaft 1900–1945: Eine Studie zu Alfred Kubin, Oskar Kokoschka, Aloys Wach, Erika Giovanna Klien und Margret Bilger by Birgit Kirchmayr

Reviewed by: Zeitwesen: Autobiographik österreichischer Künstlerinnen und Künstler im Spannungsfeld von Politik und Gesellschaft 1900–1945: Eine Studie zu Alfred Kubin, Oskar Kokoschka, Aloys Wach, Erika Giovanna Klien und Margret Bilger by Birgit Kirchmayr Jacqueline Vansant Birgit Kirchmayr, Zeitwesen: Autobiographik österreichischer Künstlerinnen und Künstler im Spannungsfeld von Politik und Gesellschaft 1900–1945: Eine Studie zu Alfred Kubin, Oskar Kokoschka, Aloys Wach, Erika Giovanna Klien und Margret Bilger. Vienna: Böhlau Verlag, 2020. 466 pp. The fascinating study Zeitwesen was launched after Birgit Kirchmayr curated the exhibition "Kulturhauptstadt des Führers: Kunst und Nationalsozialismus in Linz und Oberösterreich" in 2008. Struck by the sparsity of the years under National Socialism in the artists' biographies, the historian set out to investigate artists' auto/biographical reflections and presentations of themselves as artists as well as their participation in contemporary discourses. To gather an appropriately varied corpus of auto/biographical texts, Kirchmayr combed [End Page 148] lexica, artists' monographs, and exhibition catalogues. Because she wanted to study artists who would have all experienced the major upheavals in the first half of the twentieth century as well as societal changes, she sought subjects who were born roughly between 1880 and 1900. In addition, Kirchmayr looked for variation among her subjects, such as rural versus urban dwellers, conservative artists versus those who embraced modernity as well as both male and female artists. In addition to the above criteria she notes that personal preference played a role in her final selection. The five artists—Kubin, Kokoschka, Wach, Klien, and Bilger—prove to be well chosen, offering the author rich and varied material for her in-depth analyses. Before Kirchmayr delves into the autobiographical texts, she presents a thorough and lucid overview of the wide range of theories guiding her study. This includes scholarship on traditional autobiography, letters, and diaries, the intersection of gender and autobiography, and collective and individual identities. She also reflects on the genesis of the primary sources, which speak to the artists' self-images. Three extensive chapters, each well researched and insightful, follow this substantial and lucid framing. I concentrate my comments on the chapter "KünstlerInnen über sich," in which Kirchmayr deals with all of the artists. In her discussion of Kubin and Kokoschka, Kirchmayr draws on Carl Pletsch's biography of Nietzsche, in which he argues that the philosopher led an auto-biographical life, by which he meant that the philosopher lived in anticipation of future biographers. She shows that like Nietzsche, Kubin and Kokoschka display characteristics of men who lived autobiographical lives. However, the two diverged in their methods of constructing themselves as artists. Kubin, a passionate reader of artists' biographies and autobiographies, penned his first autobiography in 1911 at the age of thirty-four and then in the years to follow constantly added to it. Kokoschka, realizing the importance of biographical monograms for an artist's notoriety, sought to influence his biographer by dictating what should be included in his life's story. Here, Kirchmayr draws on Liz Stanley's The Auto/biographical I, which argues that the genre distinctions between biographies and autobiographies is often nebulous. In the section on Aloys Wach, Kirchmayr again turns to Stanley to bolster her argument that the letters, diaries, and "biographische Notizen" of this lesser-known artist too reflect the blurred genre borders between biographies and autobiographies. She reads these texts as both Wach's biographical notations of his daily life as well as autobiographical reflections. [End Page 149] For example, in daily entries he often commented on an earlier time rather than chronicling the events of the day. As an even clearer example of the murky genre distinctions between biography and autobiography, Kirchmayr points to Laurenz Kilger's biography of Wach, which was based entirely on the author's own notes. In contrast, the women in this study did not consider their lives nearly as worthy of biography, nor did they lead autobiographical lives, both of which seem reserved for the male artist. Kirchmayr nonetheless finds auto/biographical texts, which provide her with much insight. As Erika Giovanna Klien did not write a conventional autobiography or a diary, Kirchmayr turns Die Klessheimer Sendboten, a text that she...

Sofonisba's Lesson: A Renaissance Artist and her Work by Michael W. Cole

Reviewed by: Sofonisba's Lesson: A Renaissance Artist and her Work by Michael W. Cole Adelina Modesti Cole, Michael W., Sofonisba's Lesson: A Renaissance Artist and her Work, Princeton, Princeton University Press, 2020; hardback; pp. 312; 25 b/w and 256 colour illustrations; R.R.P. US $60.00; ISBN 9780691198323. Sofonisba Anguissola (c. 1535–1625) was the first Italian Renaissance woman artist to achieve international recognition. Considered by her contemporaries as a marvellously gifted painter after nature, Sofonisba's portraits, her specialization, were believed to come 'alive' (Vasari, 'Vita di Benvenuto Garofalo e di Girolamo da Carpi, pittori ferraresi, e d'altri Lombardi', in his Le Vite de più eccellenti pittori, scultori et architettori, 2 vols, Florence, Giunti, 1568, ii, 561–62). Michael Cole's Sofonisba's Lesson brilliantly brings this female artist to life, exploring her art within the context of the networks and relationships that formed her world. Sofonisba's paintings, Cole argues, are 'an expression of such relationships' (p. 11)—with her family, above all her father who educated her and promoted her accomplishments; with her teachers, including Michelangelo, who advised her; with members of the Habsburg royal household at Madrid, where she was a court lady for over fifteen years (1559–73); with her students and patrons, including her younger sisters and the queen of Spain; and finally, with her two husbands. Cole describes these connections as 'pedagogical' (p. 11)—relationships based on some form of education. This is reflected in the book's chapter headings—'In the Presence of Her Father'; 'The Most Affectionate Disciple'; 'The Image of Learnedness'; 'The Image of Teaching; Spain'; and 'Painting and the Education of Daughters'. Thus, the central theme of the Cole's book is learning and teaching, arguing that Sofonisba was the first woman artist to both teach other [End Page 200] women and have a number of young male artists seek her out for painting advice throughout her life, such as Anton Van Dyck in 1624 (p. 150). The Flemish artist claimed that he learnt more from this elderly female painter than from the works of other major artists (p. 150). Sofonisba also developed new artistic genres—the independent self-portrait; the family portrait; and the conversation piece as exemplified by the first group portrait to feature only women, The Chess Game (1555). It depicts her three younger sisters involved in an intellectual pastime, as the family's maidservant looks on. Sofonisba's art, as Cole deftly demonstrates, represents women in the act of some learned activity, be it reading or learning to read, at the spinet or easel, or writing. Sofonisba, however, was not a professional painter—she didn't receive commissions as such and was not remunerated for her artwork, which circulated in a court culture of diplomatic gift exchange. The artist hailed from a family of minor nobility from Cremona in northern Italy, and her father Amilcare took the unprecedented step of sending Sofonisba and her younger sister Lucia to learn painting from the Cremonese artist Bernardino Campi, and later Bernardino Gatti. Amilcare's motives may have been pecuniary (the Anguissola family had fallen on hard times), but Cole argues that he was an enlightened father responding to the growing cultural milieu that saw noblewomen's education include intellectual pursuits such as music, writing, and painting, even chess, as expounded in the conduct literature of the period. As such, Sofonisba's artistic training was part of a broader humanist education that was beginning to be advocated for girls during the Renaissance. As learned and talented women, Amilcare's five daughters were more likely to find appropriate connections in the upper echelons of society or at court. Indeed, the accomplished Sofonisba became a favourite of Isabel of Valois at the Spanish court, where she was employed as a lady-in-waiting to the young queen (with a pension), also teaching her and members of the royal household to draw and paint. She was to become governess to Isabel's two daughters after the queen's death in 1568. Given her social position, Cole defines Sofonisba's artistic practice as that of an amateur, a new Renaissance type whereby learned (male) aristocrats took an...

Representation of Diasporic Memories and Possibilities for Post–Cold War History: On the Documentaries of Soyoung

This article analyzes the documentary film Goodbye My Love, North Korea: Red Youth (2017) directed by Soyoung Kim. By representing the lives of North Korean students who defected to the Soviet Union in the late 1950s, the film evokes a forgotten North Korean diaspora, whose memories were suppressed in the national history of the two Koreas during the Cold War. Reflections on the theme of “situated identities” in the modern life frequented with migration and immigration are persistent in the works of Kim, from Koryu: Southern Women (2000) to the recent Exile Trilogy. Kim’s quest expands to her interests in the Others who remain alien in their own homes and the alienated from the national history. In “Goryeo Arirang”(2016) and “Goodbye My Love, NK,” Kim approaches the entities of the diaspora through the means of cultural actions of the diaspora, by finding songs, literature, and films of ethnic Koreans in the former Soviet Union and inserting and positioning them into documentaries. However, in the latter film, the sentiment of nationalism is more prevalent, in the fraternal solidarity of the former North Korean male artists and the process of the ethnic Korean community in Central Asia in creating their work in the Korean language. As a result, the film has an inherent risk of turning into a criticism of the North Korean regime—all so familiar in South Korea—and into a history of ordeal of a nation. As a critical input, I attempt to use the concepts of “diaspora space” and “homing desire” by Avtar Brah to read into the post–Cold War changes in the positionality of diasporic subjects hidden in the film.

What Was History Painting and What Is It Now? Edited by Mark Salber Phillips and Jordan Bear (Montreal, McGill Queen’s University Press, 2019) 320 pp. $135.00 cloth $44.95 paper

Phillips and Bear’s volume about history painting, past and present, opens with an epigraphical quotation from the German philosopher Hans-Georg Gadamer: “History is only present to us in light of our future” (3). The choice is apt. With Gadamer in tow, Phillips and Bear, too, collapse time through their rhetorical framing and commitment to uniting a remarkably wide range of visual material. In their view, the concepts of narrative and history have dictated and delimited understandings of the genre. By revisiting these frameworks, they suggest that history painting in fact escapes definition—and that this elusive quality has long enhanced its appeal to artists and audiences alike.What Was History Painting and What Is It Now? is not only unprecedented in its timespan, beginning in the fifteenth century and ending in the twenty-first. Few macro-studies and even fewer transnational works about history painting as a genre exist.1 Its position atop the Western hierarchy of genres has so long been accepted as historically entrenched that most meta-analyses are devoted to its inevitable twentieth-century fall—a tale of decline that the volume’s authors explicitly challenge, proposing instead a narrative of change. They do so, in part, through the concept of “distance” as a “dimension of representation” (11). In the introduction, Phillips proposes “four fundamental distances that shape our experiences of history and time” in works of narrative art—“form, affect, summoning, and intelligibility” (11). Over the centuries, he argues, artists’ evolving engagement with these facets of distancing helped to shape the genre in unpredictable ways.Arranged chronologically and thematically, the book is divided into three parts, each introduced by Bear. Part I, “Human Figures and Human Viewers,” begins in 1435 with the concept’s birth—Leon Battista Alberti’s use of the Latin word historia (“story”) to describe “a narrative image with many figures” (27). This fundamental ambiguity between history and story interweaves the section’s chapters, from Stuart Lingo’s examination of Agnolo Bronzino’s Martyrdom (“such distinctions were contested from their inception”), to Susanna Caviglia’s study of premodern France and Phillips’ account of secular “re-distancing” in nineteenth-century Britain.Part II, “History Painting in the Marketplace,” details how history painters increasingly produced subject matter for public audiences and art markets. Cynthia Roman’s analysis of the satirical printmaker James Gillray’s academic background and enduring narrative aspirations provides an incisive model of an artist’s “re-distancing” from elevated to “more immediate national and secular concerns” (90–91). Additional essays by Bear and Tim Barringer illustrate the genre’s evolving fluidity.Part III, “History Painting after Modernism,” dispels the notion that history painting ended with modernism. Instead, it shows “how many of history painting’s constitutive features endured in unexpected, often mutated, forms” (154). One forceful example is Michael Godby’s assessment of William Kentridge’s Triumphs and Laments (2016), a work of reverse graffiti on the Tiber riverfront in Rome; another is Elizabeth Harney’s discussion of Julie Mehretu’s Mural (2009), created for the Goldman Sachs lobby after the 2008 economic crash. The mutability of the genre is encapsulated in Dexter Dalwood’s treatment of Rita Donagh’s Reflection on Three Weeks in May 1970 (1971), an abstract painting that references both Henry David Thoreau’s Walden and the 1970 Kent State shootings and is intended to document her performance with her students as part of the narrative that she presents.The question arises whether works such as William Kentridge’s ephemeral frieze or the Icelandic artist Rúri Fannberg’s interactive, sonic Archive: Endangered Waters (discussed in Chapter 13, by Mark A. Cheetham) overextend the mandate of history “painting” and might be better described as narrative art. But part of the volume’s power is its insistence on placing these works in the Albertian tradition. Less successful, however, is its attention to gender. No women artists appear until discussions of the twentieth century, when they emerge as creators of some of the volume’s most abstract works. Aware of this male focus, the editors have gendered all viewers female. Yet such rhetoric implies, problematically, a story of male artists creating for female audiences, whereas the chapter structure suggests that only as history painting unmoored itself from traditional structures could women, and non-white men, enter the profession. This absence is not for lack of potential material. Earlier instances abound, including Angelica Kauffman’s classical narrative canvases and Marie (Mme.) Tussaud’s wax displays. Such examples would have buttressed the volume’s overarching argument for the perpetual accessibility and commerciality of historical art—the themes that otherwise anchor the chapters so effectively, by reconstituting “history painting” as a protean genre that artists continue to mold to their own means, patrons, politics, and times.

‘Art’s in pop culture in me’: Posthuman performance and authorship in Lady Gaga’s Artpop (2013)

Ten years after her eccentric entrance into the pop scene with ‘Just Dance’, Gaga’s image is now markedly less edgy, in part due to her current focus on her film and TV acting career which requires a different image. In her musical work, Gaga is known for referencing artists that came before her in her music and music videos, and she has previously pushed the assumed boundaries between pop and art. This bricolage of influences often gives rise to claims of inauthenticity where rapidly changing and subversive image has left critics questioning who the ‘real’ Lady Gaga is. Moving beyond limited and value-laden discourses of authenticity, we instead suggest that her performances exemplify a posthuman approach to art and/as subjectivity. In the posthuman view, one’s ‘self’ is not a singular, static, autonomous individual, but a subjectivity that is emergent; an entanglement between entities, both human and non-human. Posthuman theory consequently troubles dualistic binaries, such as those between male/female, self/other, subject/object and human/machine/animal. This allows for a critique of anthropocentric hierarchies, instead arguing for a rhizomatic acknowledgement of the different entities in the subjectivities that emerge. We suggest that Lady Gaga’s work on her 2013 album Artpop exemplifies this approach, as Gaga fashions her body to resemble artworks and wears visual references to (female) artists that came before her. She incorporates different objects, machines, animals and others into her performances, thereby embodying a posthuman subjectivity. This work therefore signifies a reconsideration of what it means to be an audio-visual-artist and challenges not only the sanctity of self, but also the Romantic model of the male artist and singer-songwriter which persists in much popular music media criticism. However, problematically anthropocentric approaches remain throughout via Gaga’s foregrounding of self, and her current return to more muted performance styles might be seen as indicative of the difficulties of living a posthuman life in a humanistic society and marketplace.

Jak przerobić baśnie na zaangażowane utopie? Twórczość prozatorska Angeli Carter

&#x0D; &#x0D; &#x0D; &#x0D; Celem artykułu jest przeprowadzenie analizy dwóch powieści Angeli Carter, Magicznego sklepu z zabawkami (1967) i Mądrych dzieci (1991), a także wybranych baśni/opowiadań pisarki, na czele z Krwawą komnatą (1979) i Towarzystwem wilków (1977). Autorka tekstu ukazuje, jak przekształcanie popularnych motywów baśniowych lub fabuł powieściowych (z uwzględnieniem takich gatunków jak powieść inicjacyjna, powieść obyczajowa, powieść o artystach, tu także artystkach) zamienia je w utopie i to z wyraźnie feministyczną sygnaturą. Rozwiązania proponowane przez Carter, często wzbogacane o elementy utopii albo dystopii, mają na celu nie tylko zakwestionowanie fallogocentrycznych reguł; prowadzą także do pytań, czy jest ono w ogóle możliwe.&#x0D; &#x0D; &#x0D; &#x0D;

“The Dress-Clad, Out Loud Singer of Queer Punks”: Bradford Cox and the Performance of Disability

AbstractBradford Cox's physical appearance has mystified audiences, critics, and fans since the inception of his American indie rock band Deerhunter in the early 2000s. As the band's frontman, Cox is 6’4” with an exceptionally thin, angular frame, physical effects associated with Marfan syndrome. Yet many critics and fans do not recognize that he has a disability per se, instead speculating about possible anorexia, drug abuse, mental illness, and even his gender and sexual orientation. Through analysis of Cox's reception and creative output, I argue that the simultaneous fetishization and normalization of his body is due to its resonance with two overlapping countercultural discourses: the current idealization of thinness in indie rock as it both extends and departs from an earlier tradition of freakery and androgyny in punk. I show that Cox resists what he views as the masculine heteronormativity and performative apathy of indie rock through “freakish” sartorial reference to his androgynous punk idols PJ Harvey, Joey Ramone, and Patti Smith, an aesthetic that for Cox is vitally queer. Cox uses his solo musical output to further convey his alienation as a queer-disabled male artist: through his lyrics, album art, and specific vocal affectations and production techniques, he establishes a continuity across the visual and sonic registers of his identity to ultimately achieve a sense of belonging.

Role of Arabian female plastic artists in the art market: A comparative analysis study on selected samples of Arab countries

When we try to recall the most famous artworks, what immediately comes to mind are works by male western artists, which makes us wonder about the role of women, especially Arabian women in the art world. This research utilizes the comparative analytical method to discuss the role of female Arabian artists in the Arab region and the western world’s art market. By first gathering data pertaining to works sold at auctions by female Arabian artists from the 20th and the 21st centuries, and who belong to both the eastern and western ends of the Arab world. Then analyzing and comparing the data to understand where women artists of the Arab world fit in the Arabian and Middle Eastern region art market. And to also understand the status of female versus male artist by comparing the highest prices reached by a work of art sold at an auction for artists of both sexes Arabian or western. Results show clear supremacy of male versus female artists in the art market whether in the Arab or the western worlds leading to the conclusion that women’s work is still valued significantly lower than that of men.

Chamber music works by Amanda Maier in the context of European Romanticism

Chamber music works by Amanda Maier in the context of European Romanticism

Diffracting the Politicized Spectale

By referring to the philosophies of Izutsu Toshihiko, the article argues that it is often the case that the profiling of difference increases the sense of isolation experienced by the very people the practice intends to help, and thus intensifies the number of micro-opponents even among peers. This was precisely the case in Aichi Triennale 2019, a Japanese interdisciplinary art festival financially ‘censored’ by the government which responded to extreme-rightists’ protest against some politically-charged art pieces. Owing to the political havoc, artists and curators participating in the event were forced to take sides through the gaze of political micro-categorizations, which ended in even more divisions and ruptures. What soon became apparent was that it was mainly through the voice of logocentric male artists that the political divisions were amplified. Takayama Akira and Ichihara Satoko were those few artists who decided not to take sides and resorted to the politics of diffraction rather than difference. Through their artworks titled J-Art Call Centre and The Bacchae: Holstein Milk Cows respectively, they tried to go beyond the antagonistic narratives which, Karen Barad affirms to maintain the ‘binary thinking […] instrumental to the working of power’. More specifically, the article demonstrates how through their dramaturgies, Takayama and Ichihara opened up a more innovative reconfiguration of the world - what Izutsu calls the ‘gentle cosmos’ – which operates under the politics of diffraction.

The ‘Social Justice Plot’ in learning, consuming, and (re)creating music on social media

In this article, I outline what I call the ‘Social Justice Plot’ in online music-making and consumption. I suggest that some popular music follows a particular plot where social justice discourses of fighting against and triumphing against inequalities based on identity is used to form narratives and tension and release in music and other arts. In the participatory culture and participatory politics of social media, consumers of media circulate and comment on these songs as a way to perform their own social justice identities. To explicate this process, I primarily draw upon Beyoncé Knowles’s song ‘Formation’, a cover of the song by a white male artist, and commenters’ reactions on social media to this cover. Through this example, I suggest that this Social Justice Plot is the commodification of anti-oppression discourses for material and moral gain. I conclude with implications for music education research and practice.

The influence of occupation on the longevity of Japanese traditional artists

The long-term lifestyle is known to affect lifespan and mortality. In particular, it is well known that exercise habit decreases the mortality. The effects of performing strenuous exercise, however, as an occupation over a lifetime have been unclear. Here we show the effects of various occupations that include being sedentary and performing music and exercise activities and/or birth year on longevity of 699 professional male artists either alive or dead, as reported in books and webpages. Kaplan–Meier analysis showed a significant effect of occupation type on longevity among the four Japanese traditional arts professions of Kabuki, Sado, Rakugo and Nagauta, which include strenuous exercise, and tea ceremonies, telling comic stories and playing instruments while sitting, respectively. Discrete-time logistic regression analysis showed that the lifespan was significantly shorter for Kabuki actors than among the other three Japanese traditional artists. This result suggests that daily strenuous exercise as an occupation shortens rather than prolongs the lifespan.

“I was scared to death”: storytelling, masculinity, & vulnerability in “Wet Dreamz”

ABSTRACT This essay uses J. Cole’s song “Wet Dreamz,” the artist’s boyhood tale about losing his virginity, as a case study examining how Black male hip-hop artists draw from ideas about the ordinary to position themselves vulnerably within the contours of the mainstream genre. I argue that Cole positions himself vulnerably by presenting himself as sexually insecure, making him susceptible to criticism around his masculinity and, by extension, mainstream marketability loss in a genre dominantly constructing Black men as sexually confident. Specifically, I explore how Cole discusses seemingly universal boyhood concerns about his penis size, “stroke,” and wet dreams, accentuating a sense of connectedness to his male listeners. Second, I argue that Cole rearticulates his masculinity through his heterosexual desire, which could otherwise be jeopardized by the song’s attentiveness to his sexual uncertainty. Through this case study, I demonstrate how Black male hip-hop artists can carve disruptive rhetorical space for expressing seemingly universal boyhood insecurities that commonly go unexpressed, depicting healthy sexual relationships, and representing Black boys as resilient and with sexual agency.

Creative economy, authenticity and peripheral memories: the favela souvenirs in Rio de Janeiro

The aim is to examine the economic and cultural roles of the favela souvenirs for Rio de Janeiro’s slums, with the focus on the work of a male artist from Santa Teresa (an old neighbourhood, on the top tod a hill in the central region of the city, with great tourist appeal and strong contrast between mansions and one of the poorest and most violent communities of Rio). The main argument indicates that favela souvenirs generate income and jobs not only for craft workers, but indirectly for tourist guides, food services and other creative sectors connected to the favela tourism. When these souvenirs are original and truth-telling, they may stimulate a better perception of the favelas in tourists and consolidate them as tourist destinations, despite the aggravation of violence in many slums in Rio de Janeiro. Favela souvenirs also carry the memories of the city’s periphery, which is sometimes seen as secondary in Rio de Janeiro’s long-established tourist images and “generic souvenirs”. They offer greater visibility to the cultural production of marginalized social groups, which fuels potentially transformative views about the favelas and bring about the discussion on the lives of those who live in these areas. In the case of the work of the considered artist, it is possible to say that his paintings have elements of the “objective authenticity” of souvenirs, which contrast with a preconceived idea of an “imaginary favela” in his treatment of Santa Teresa’s poorest communities. However, there are some aspects of standardization in his pictorial production and simulation in the process of elaboration of the artist’s work during tourists’ visits to his studio.

Painting from the Other Side: Tracing the Reparative Turn in Contemporary Practice

Painting from the Other Side, is the curatorial project section of a larger interdisciplinary practice-led research project titled Embodying the Reparative Turn: Seeking Agency through Studio Practice in Individual and Collective Contexts that investigates the potential of the reparative turn in painting, aesthetics, narrative, and curation to subvert, evade, and exit from dynamics of exclusion linked to homophobia, misogyny, and racism. It considers how systemic cultural agents propagating exclusion deploy inequity to obstruct human flourishing, then explores how they are subverted through diverse reparative practices in painting. Painting from the Other Side included an open call for paintings that engage with reparative content by artists whose identities are in some way outside of the minority power position of the Western canon of painting by straight white male artists. It included intensive studio visits and culminated in an exhibition. This paper proposes a theoretical framework of reparative painting and practice, tracing the many paths research-participant artists followed towards a reparative turn in painting.

Yeom Sang-seop's novel and dating: representation of love and artist in When Peony Blooms

이 글은 염상섭이 다양한 연애 양식에 소설적 관심을 지속적으로 보여 왔다는 사실에서부터 출발한다. 『모란꽃 필 때』가 포착하고 있는 지점은, 연애의 공간적인 확장이 근대 자본주의의 소비적 측면과 결합되었을 때 발생하는 새로운 사랑의 문법이다. 염상섭은 문화적 코드로서의 데이트 장면을 재현하고자 했으며, 이를 바탕으로 작품을 이해하는 일은 시대를 바라보는 작가의식과 젠더 문제에 다각도로 접근할 수 있게 한다. 『모란꽃 필 때』는 데이트 장면 내부에 서로 대비되는 남녀 인물들을 배치하여, 여성성과 남성성에 놓인 기존의 관습들을 단절시키고자 한다. 신성과 문자는 남성들에 의해 ‘여성적인 것’으로 고정된 이미지를 적극적으로 수행 혹은 역전시킨다는 점에서 대비된다. 문자는 1930년대 ‘배드 걸’의 형상으로, 데이트를 ‘낭만적인 행위’로 소비함으로써 주체성을 확보한다. 한편, 헤게모니적 남성성을 드러내는 여러 인물과 대비되는 남성 예술가 진호의 존재를 통해 진정한 사랑의 방식을 문제 삼는다. 여성의 몸을 성애화하거나 타락한 것으로 규정짓는 것이 아닌, ‘눈길’을 통해 연인에 대한 정열과 사랑을 드러내는 진호의 방식은 현실을 있는 그대로 직시하는 예술가의 시선과 맞닿아 있다. 그가 포착하고 있는 신성의 ‘우울과 번민이 뒤섞인 것’ 같은 미소는 담론화된 여성성을 내면화하는 과정에서 생기는 균열임과 동시에, 작가 염상섭이 살아가야 했던 식민지 조선의 맨얼굴이다.This article starts from the fact that Yeom Sang-seop has continued to show interest in various dating styles in his novels. The aspect of romance, which began at “Mansejeon”, passed through the manner of meeting with the waitress or married one, gradually moves to‘dating’ in the modern sense of unmarried men and women freely meeting and estimating the possibility of marriage. In Yeom Sang-seop s novel, the idea of’dating” has been steadily expanded into a public space, from What you got to Gave the Pearls, Love and sin, and Baek-gu. An important point captured by When Peony Blooms is the new grammar of love that arises when this spatial expansion of love is combined with the consumptive aspects of modern capitalism. In the early 1930s, Yeom Sang-seop attempted to represent the dating scene as a cultural code in the specific time and space of Joseon and Japan through When Peony Blooms. Based on this, understanding works provides a multi-faceted approach to the artist s consciousness and gender issues. In When Peony Blooms, the male and female characters are arranged artfully in the dating scene to break existing customs of femininity and masculinity. First, Sinseong and Munja contrast in that they actively perform or reverse the image fixed by men as ‘feminine’. Munja is the ‘bad girl’ in the 1930s and secure identity by consuming a dating as a ‘romantic act’. On the other hand, through the existence of male artist Jinho, who contrasts with the figures revealing hegemony and masculinity, the meaning of true love is questioned. What is important at this time is that Jinho s way of love occupies the same position as the way of representing the period through the art. In this way, Yeom Sang-seop constantly talks about love and farewell in his novels and repeatedly summons the femininity and masculinity inscribed in a love relationship. It also captures the shadows of the socioeconomic and cultural practices that emerge from the imperialism of Japan. He wanted to bring the colonists existence and their voices into the work more than anyone else, and refused to avoid or talk hopefully about the problems of imperialist and hegemonic masculinity they produce.

Glass Ceilings in the Art Market

We study prices paid at auction for artworks created by male and female artists, based on birth-identified sex, and how these prices have evolved over time. Artworks produced by female artists comprise less than 4% of art auction sales; after controlling for artwork characteristics, we find that artworks by female artists are 4.4% more expensive than artworks by male artists. In the top echelon of the art market—for sales above $1 million—artworks by male artists sell for 18.4% more than by female artists. The top 40 artists represent 40% of total market share; no female artist makes the top 40 ranking of artists in terms of total sales value at auction in the period under study, 2000–2017. However, for contemporary artists, our empirical results show that works by male artists sell for 8.3% more than their female counterparts. Overall, this study highlights significant price differences across birth-identified sex in the secondary market for fine art.

Biblical Women and the Arts ed. by Diane Apostolos-Cappadona

Reviewed by: Biblical Women and the Arts ed. by Diane Apostolos-Cappadona Ally Kateusz diane apostolos-cappadona (ed.), Biblical Women and the Arts (Biblical Reception 5; London: T&T Clark, 2018). Pp. xii + 229. $115.20. The ten contributors to this beautifully illustrated volume examine the reception of biblical women ranging from Eve to the woman clothed with the sun. In this stellar example of visual exegesis, the points of view vary from that of the artist to that of the viewer, as well as from Jewish, Christian, and Muslim perspectives. With a few exceptions, the art displayed is from the last thousand years, not the first millennium, and was produced by male artists. In other words, the focus is primarily on the reception of ancient biblical narratives about women in the context of the male gaze, both medieval and modern, as well as contemporary. Diane Apostolos-Cappadona, the guest editor, starts off the ten chapters with “Naked or Nurtured: The Breast of Eve, the Breast of Mary.” Here she considers not only the breast in art, but also the history of how the women’s breasts on public display have been received, whether as source of nutrient or shame. Apostolos-Cappadona traces the medieval symbolism of the bare breast, especially as represented by Jesus’s mother holding out her own breast or nursing her son with it. Mary’s naked breast was a multivalent motif, ranging in meaning from spiritual milk for the believer to Mary’s ability to intercede with her son on behalf of the people. Apostolos-Cappadona ends by addressing reasons why depictions of Mary’s bare breast fell out of favor during modernity. The second chapter, “Images of the First Woman: Eve in Islamic Fāl-Nāma Paintings,” by Zohar Hadromi-Allouche, is one of the most provocative. H.-A. contrasts the portrayals of Eve in Jewish Scripture and the Qur’an and its associated literature. She first dispels the notion that the Qur’an’s depiction of Eve was an egalitarian paradise narrative, because, for example, unlike in Genesis, Eve is never named in the Qur’an. Then she carefully nuances how Eve was elevated in the Qur’anic narratives. Adam, not Eve, was the primary source of temptation—yet Eve’s lack of blame means that she almost disappears from the narrative. But artists brought Eve to life. Hadromi-Allouche examines three hagiographical watercolors of Adam and Eve painted between 1550 and 1615 in two books used by nobility for the purpose of augury, that is, as tools for the practice of divination. In these, Eve, like Adam, is painted with the flaming halo of a prophet or the green halo of Muhammed; angels bow to her, not just Adam as in the Qur’anic accounts; and Adam is painted with a navel while Eve has none, suggesting that she gave birth to him as the Mother of All. The extraordinary elevation of Eve in these paintings, especially in contrast to the Qur’anic narrative, in my view raises the one question that Hadromi-Allouche does not ask that I wish she had: Were these books manufactured for the female gaze? Did women use them for divination? In chap. 3, “Beauty and Its Beholders: Envisioning Sarah and Esther,” Ori Z. Soltes illustrates first Sarah and then Esther in art that ranges in date from the thirteenth century to 2005, with about half the portraits from the 1990s and early 2000s, including some by [End Page 162] women artists. What is most striking is the contrast between the more romantic images of the distant past and the powerful recent images. This is not merely that contemporary artists comparatively place the female figures, especially that of Sarah, front and center, but also that in so doing they bring alive these women’s personalities and predicaments. As Soltes notes, the change in how these artists portray Sarah and Esther dramatically changes the reception of their biblical narrative; finally, at least in art, they are the protagonists of their own stories. Christine E. Joynes, in chap. 4, “Re-Visioning Women in Mark’s Gospel through Art,” argues that the variety of artistic interpretations of women in...