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clarestrand · 4 years

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Men Only Tower showing in Masculinities: Liberation through Photography Thu 20 Feb—Sun 17 May 2020,

Masculinities: Liberation through Photography is a major group exhibition that explores how masculinity is experienced, performed, coded and socially constructed as expressed and documented through photography and film from the 1960s to the present day.

The exhibition brings together over 300 works by over 50 pioneering international artists, photographers and filmmakers such as Richard Avedon, Peter Hujar, Isaac Julien, Rotimi Fani-Kayode, Robert Mapplethorpe, Annette Messager and Catherine Opie to show how photography and film have been central to the way masculinities are imagined and understood in contemporary culture. The show also highlights lesser-known and younger artists - some of whom have never exhibited in the UK - including Cassils, Sam Contis, George Dureau, Elle Pérez, Paul Mpagi Sepuya, Hank Willis Thomas, Karlheinz Weinberger and Marianne Wex amongst many others. Masculinities: Liberation through Photography is part of the Barbican’s 2020 season, Inside Out, which explores the relationship between our inner lives and creativity.

Jane Alison, Head of Visual Arts, Barbican, said: ‘Masculinities: Liberation through Photography continues our commitment to presenting leading twentieth century figures in the field of photography while also supporting younger contemporary artists working in the medium today. In the wake of the #MeToo movement and the resurgence of feminist and men’s rights activism, traditional notions of masculinity has become a subject of fierce debate. This exhibition could not be more relevant and will certainly spark conversations surrounding our understanding of masculinity.’

With ideas around masculinity undergoing a global crisis and terms such as ‘toxic’ and ‘fragile’ masculinity filling endless column inches, the exhibition surveys the representation of masculinity in all its myriad forms, rife with contradiction and complexity. Presented across six sections by over 50 international artists to explore the expansive nature of the subject, the exhibition touches on themes of queer identity, the black body, power and patriarchy, female perceptions of men, heteronormative hypermasculine stereotypes, fatherhood and family. The works in the show present masculinity as an unfixed performative identity shaped by cultural and social forces.

Seeking to disrupt and destabilise the myths surrounding modern masculinity, highlights include the work of artists who have consistently challenged stereotypical representations of hegemonic masculinity, including Collier Schorr, Adi Nes, Akram Zaatari and Sam Contis, whose series Deep Springs, 2018 draws on the mythology of the American West and the rugged cowboy. Contis spent four years immersed in an all-male liberal arts college north of Death Valley meditating on the intimacy and violence that coexists in male-only spaces. Complicating the conventional image of the fighter, Thomas Dworzak’s acclaimed series Taliban consists of portraits found in photographic studios in Kandahar following the US invasion of Afghanistan in 2001, these vibrant portraits depict Taliban fighters posing hand in hand in front of painted backdrops, using guns and flowers as props with kohl carefully applied to their eyes. Trans masculine artist Cassils’ series Time Lapse, 2011, documents the radical transformation of their body through the use of steroids and a rigorous training programme reflecting on ideas of masculinity without men. Elsewhere, artists Jeremy Deller, Robert Mapplethorpe and Rineke Dijkstra dismantle preconceptions of subjects such as the wrestler, the bodybuilder and the athlete and offer an alternative view of these hyper-masculinised stereotypes.

The exhibition examines patriarchy and the unequal power relations between gender, class and race. Karen Knorr’s series Gentlemen, 1981-83, comprised of 26 black and white photographs taken inside men-only private members’ clubs in central London and accompanied by texts drawn from snatched conversations, parliamentary records and contemporary news reports, invites viewers to reflect on notions of class, race and the exclusion of women from spaces of power during Margaret Thatcher’s premiership. Toxic masculinity is further explored in Andrew Moisey’s 2018 photobook The American Fraternity: An Illustrated Ritual Manual which weaves together archival photographs of former US Presidents and Supreme Court Justices who all belonged to the fraternity system, alongside images depicting the initiation ceremonies and parties that characterise these male-only organisations.

With the rise of the Gay Liberation Movement through the 1960s followed by the AIDS epidemic in the early 1980s, the exhibition showcases artists such as Peter Hujar and David Wojnarowiz, who increasingly began to disrupt traditional representations of gender and sexuality. Hal Fischer’s critical photo-text series Gay Semiotics, 1977, classified styles and types of gay men in San Francisco and Sunil Gupta’s street photographs captured the performance of gay public life as played out on New York’s Christopher Street, the site of the 1969 Stonewall Uprising. Other artists exploring the performative aspects of queer identity include Catherine Opie’s seminal series Being and Having, 1993, showing her close friends in the West Coast’s LGBTQ+ community sporting false moustaches, tattoos and other stereotypical masculine accessories. Elle Pérez’s luminous and tender photographs explore the representation of gender non-conformity and vulnerability, whilst Paul Mpagi Sepuya’sfragmented portraits explore the studio as a site of homoerotic desire.

During the 1970s women artists from the second wave feminist movement objectified male sexuality in a bid to subvert and expose the invasive and uncomfortable nature of the male gaze. In the exhibition, Laurie Anderson’s seminal work Fully Automated Nikon (Object/Objection/Objectivity), 1973, documents the men who cat-called her as she walked through New York’s Lower East Side while Annette Messager’s series The Approaches, 1972, covertly captures men’s trousered crotches with a long-lens camera. German artist Marianne Wex’s encyclopaedic project Let’s Take Back Our Space: ‘Female’ and ‘Male’ Body Language as a Result of Patriarchal Structures, 1977, presents a detailed analysis of male and female body language and Australian indigenous artist Tracey Moffatt’s awkwardly humorous film Heaven, 1997, portrays male surfers changing in and out of their wet suits.

Further highlights include New York based artist Hank Willis Thomas, whose photographic practice examines the complexities of the black male experience; celebrated Japanese photographer Masahisa Fukase’s The Family, 1971-1989, chronicles the life and death of his family with a particular emphasis on his father; and Kenneth Anger’s technicolour experimental underground film Kustom Kar Kommandos, 1965, explores the fetishist role of hot rod cars amongst young American men.

Participating artists

Bas Jan Ader, Laurie Anderson, Kenneth Anger, Liz Johnson Artur, Knut Åsdam, Richard Avedon, Aneta Bartos, Richard Billingham, Cassils, Sam Contis, John Coplans, Jeremy Deller, Rineke Dijkstra, George Dureau, Thomas Dworzak, Hans Eijkelboom, Fouad Elkoury, Hal Fischer, Samuel Fosso, Anna Fox, Masahisa Fukase, Sunil Gupta, Kiluanji Kia Henda, Peter Hujar, Isaac Julien, Rotimi FaniKayode, Karen Knorr, Deana Lawson, Hilary Lloyd, Robert Mapplethorpe, Peter Marlow, Ana Mendieta, Annette Messager, Duane Michals, Tracey Moffatt, Andrew Moisey, Richard Mosse, Adi Nes, Catherine Opie, Elle Pérez, Herb Ritts, Kalen Na’il Roach, Paul Mpagi Sepuya, Collier Schorr, Clare Strand, Mikhael Subotzky, Larry Sultan, Wolfgang Tillmans, Hank Willis Thomas, Piotr Uklański, Andy Warhol, Karlheinz Weinberger, Marianne Wex, David Wojnarowicz and more to be confirmed.

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momo-de-avis · 5 years

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Do you have any recommendations of female artists (sculptors and painters)? (I went to a museum and now im salty lmao)

Off the top of my mind, I might remember someone else some time soon:

Sonia Delaunay. My girl LIVED and BREATHED art. She was the type to literally, and I mean wholly, surround herself with art to the point of living inside art. She sewed, made costumes for the theater, she made puppets, dolls, quilts, even furniture. She was an incredible, outstanding painter. She is at the centre of Orphism more so than Robert, her husband, who was more of a cubism guy. Now, from what I gather, a lot of what people say about Sonia in other countries is coupled with her husband, as if you can't talk about her without mentioning him. To a degree, that's correct because the two had a really secure partnership. They were both creators, and they pushed each other. It was incredibly inspiring tbh. But Sonia has her own merit, and in Portugal she is actually way more relevant than Robert bc of the influence she had on our modernist circle.

Lee Krasner. If only people sort of forgot she was Pollock's wife. Her method of creating is fascinating to me cause this girl just destroyed her past work completely, but instead of throwing it in the trash, she reused it to create new works. Art historians in the post modernist era weren't too kind to her, but she's being avenged. She's methodical and clearly puts so much thought into her composition her creative process is fascinating.

Julia Margaret Cameron. This woman is one of my favourite artists in the world. Cameron began taking photographs at 42 years old after she moved to the isle of Wight in England. She was gifted a camera by her daughter who just wanted her mother to be a bit less bored, and Cameron went on to create over 3000 astonishing photographs that are at the core of the pictorialist movement. She was also INCREDIBLY well acquainted of her society. I mean, literally every famous victorian person you can think of, she met them. The majority of famous photographs you can think of? She took them. She was very honest about her work too. Its really endearing because Cameron was so concerned about her own honesty in capturing beauty she didn't give a fuck about the actual mechanics, which resulted in a lot of photographers at the time labelling her "an amateur". She also refused to photograph high society folk that weren't her friends, and mostly photographed her maids. It must be said that Alfred Lord Tennyson absolutely DESPISED every single illustration made for his Idylls of the King, so much artists knew they were in for hell if they were commissioned the book's illustrations. Cameron was the only person Tennyson personally asked to illustrated, and he absolutely adored her work.

Hannah Hoch. I love Dada so it couldn't miss. Hannah Hoch was married to uhhhhh... Huesekbeck I think? I keep forgetting. Either way, she was part of the Berlin Dada group, and they gave her hell for being a woman. Yes, it's nothing short of that: they didn't want her to belong because she was a woman. Especially her husband, who she supported throughout his life and then he died and she was like "lmao maybe you should have made good art, my bitch". Hannah Hoch mostly makes collages, and it's incredible. Its a very poignant work about being a woman in post-Weimar Germany and the societal issues Germany faced after World War I.

Claude Cahun. There's a post I made about her going around so I wont prolong myself but essentially, though she used female pronouns throughout her life, she identified herself as androgynous and created an INCREDIBLE set of photographs. She was a surrealist who became the inspiration for Davie Bowie and Andre Breton lauded this woman breathless. She was also arrested for taking part in the resistance against the Nazis and lived her whole life with another woman who was her partner. Her work focuses tremendously on issues of gender and our perception of our own bodies.

Camille Claudel. Infamously, she is known as Rodin's lover. Camille's story is a very tragic one. She was a tremendously talented sculptor who accumulated patrons throughout her life, and though she had an a rough affair with Rodin (and he was a bit of a dick), he did praise her work and tried very hard to preserve her artwork. The issue was Camille's family, who scorned her and shamed her for being an artist and her life choices, and destroyed a lot of her art after sticking her in a mental institution where she died at like, 70. But Camille's work is... Well, it's beautiful. Its the kind of work you can see that conflict between being a woman in her society while desperate to liberate herself. Though she incorporates Rodin's language, she has her own mark, her own hand, and her own language.

Janet Sobel. She is actually the first person to coin, use and employ the technique of dripping. You know, the one Pollock gets all the praise for? Essentially, Janet Sobel was a grandmother by the time she picked up a paintbrush. She was also a ukranian emigrant with little to no english, and she engaged in art at her son's insistence. When her son Sol Sobel brought his mom's artwork to the major New York circles (she lived in New Jersey), she immediately caught the eye of Peggy Guggenheim, who put together a collective exhibition about female abstract expressionist painters. That exhibition was in 1946. Pollock was there, he msde a remark wbout Sobel's work, and in 1947 you have the first Pollock dripping painting. Do with that information what you will (and also, check for photos of how Sobel painted, it's so adorable and it just explains SO MUCH MORE THE CONCEPT OF ACTION PAINTING THAN POLLOCK). Eventualyl, Sobel stopped painting and disappeared, and there are several factors as to why we forgot her: Pollock was the CIA's bad boy, so yeah; she spoke little english (she befriended Marc Chagall and Mark Rothko bc they both spoke russian and they claimed that being with Sobel felt like being back home) and she developed an allergy to oil painting.

Maria Helena Vieira da Silva. We're moving to the french circle here, and yes she is portuguese but she belongs to the french post modernist circle. She's an abstract painter who draws a lot from cityscapes, and I think it's worth taking a look at her work.

Niki de Saint Phalle. Now Niki is incredible. She's mostly known for her Nanas, which are immense outdoors sculptures of women with thick bodies, defying the notion of slenderness imposed by fashion magazines that prevailed in the 50s. She also engages with her own trauma of sexual abuse and explores the notion of sexuality a lot, as well as women's bodies outside the realm of sexuality. At a given point, she collaborated with Jean Tingely a lot so she made a series of kinetic sculptures too.

Martha Rosler. I know you said painting and sculpture and I've already talked about collage lmao but Martha Rosler belongs to the first wave of feminist art and those mostly concern video art, though Rosler is very well known for her collages Bringing the War Home in which she literally brings the Vietnam war home. It's worth looking at her work.

Ana Mendieta. Another tragic story. Ana Mendieta was incredibly worried about the notion of the female body as perceived outside the realm of something sexual and nature. She works a lot with perishable material, works of art that are organic, that is, that will disappear with time. One of her most well known methods is leaving an imprint of her own body on natural surfaces, like a beach, or a field of grass, and then photographing it. Ironically, that was exactly how she died: she fell off I believe it was a 10th floor and onto the hood if a car. There is still speculation about it and everything points towards there having been a fight between her and her partner at the time, Carl Andre, who neighbours believe pushed her out the window. Carl Andre never saw justice and Ana Mendieta died at like 25 years old and at the prime of her career.

Kara Walker. She's a pretty young artist who's creating artworks as we speak and she confronts the notion of blackness with US history so blatantly it becomes monumental. She also makes large scale works to defy this message. If you ask me, she's one of the best artists living today.

Hilma af Klimt. She was a Swedish abstractionist and surrealist who was really focused on the occult, and made monumental paintings that engaged with things like the human psyche.

Lizzie Siddal. Now, Lizzie is better known as the Pre-Raphaelite muse, immortalised in Millais' famous Ophelia, but she was an artist of her own. And not just any artist. John Ruskin tutored her and praised her. In fact, he considered her biggest flaw being her love affair with Rossetti lmao she is very naive and honest about her work, and I would also recommend taking a look at her poetry.

Eleonor Fortescue-Brickdale. I know very little about her, but she was a post pre-raphaelite illustrator who, and this is just me, follows the trend of Julia Margaret Cameron. Her paintings are beautiful and seriously, look at both their work and try to see the similarities hah

Helen Frankenthaler and Joan Mitchell, two abstract expressionists who developed their own mode of painting and who border the Colour Field Painting (think Rothko).

Tamara de Lempicka. She's the glamour gal. She makes paintings about the glamorous life of high society and is very interesting because she depicts female nudes in a very intimate way. If I am not mistaken, Tamara de Lempicka had relationships with women, so that tells you a lot. She's very cubist in technique, more so than style.

Faith Ringgold. Oh my God, Faith Ringgold is fantastic. She is a black american woman who paints about the experience of being a black woman, but not just paint. She's best known for her Tar Beaches series, which as quilts she stitches while telling the story of a little girl who dreams about a world while spending time on her tar beach, which is the rooftops of the buildings in Harlem. Please do check her work, she is fantastic.

I'll leave well known names out because they are easy to search like Frida Kahlo, Artemisa Gentilleschi, Josefa d'Obidos, Sofonisba Anguissola (these three are located in the late renaissance period, so there's a lot of portraits, religious themes and still life), Mary Cassat, Berthe Morisot (both impressionists who focus on private female themes), Rosa Bonheur (naturalist who makes landscapes mostly), Evelyn de Morgan (post pre-raphaelite). Also check Zinaida Serebriakova, Georgia O'Keeffe, Lavinia Fontana, Louise Bourgeois, Angelika Kauffmann, Elisabetta Sirani, Romaine Brooks, Sophie Tauber-Arp, Varvara Stepanova, Paula Rego, Bridget Riley, Leonora Carrington, Vigée le Brun, Yayoi Kusama, Francesca Woodman. Etc. These are like .. top of my head with a quick google search to make sure I wrote the names right haha

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processproductionsophielindsay · 3 years

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SUZANNE LACY

Suzanne Lacy, Prostitution Notes (1974)

https://www.suzannelacy.com/prostitution-notes/

Suzanne Lacy, Three Weeks in May (1977)

https://www.suzannelacy.com/three-weeks-in-may-recreation/

Suzanne Lacy, Crystal Quilt (1985-1987)

https://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tate-modern-tanks/display/suzanne-lacy-crystal-quilt

Suzanne Lacy, Alterations (1994)

https://www.suzannelacy.com/alterations-1994/

Suzanne Lacy, The Life and Times of Donaldina Cameron (1977)

https://www.suzannelacy.com/the-life-and-times-of-donaldina-cameron-1977/

Childhood

Suzanne Lacy was the first of three children born to Larry and Betty Little Lacy in Wasco, California in 1945. She described her father's heritage as "a very poor Tennessee hillbilly environment," while her mother was white Canadian Scottish. Larry had a military background and flew bombing raids over Germany during the World War II before becoming an insurance salesman. Betty worked as a clerk in a gas company. Suzanne's brother Philip was born in 1947 and sister Jean in 1962.

From a very young age, Lacy had a heightened conscience, stating "I was interested in social issues as a child. At first, it was homeless and hungry cats, but after five I began to understand, in some primitive way, injustice." She read magazines and was interested in the Salem Witch trials. She would come to learn that women were not seen as equals to men and that Jewish people and the black community were badly treated.

In 1963, Lacy became the first in her family to seek further education when she enrolled at Bakersfield Community College. She excelled, winning a scholarship to the University of California in Santa Barbara in 1965. There, she obtained a degree in zoology while also studying art and modern dance. Her initial intent was to train as a medical doctor, specializing in psychiatry, and she went on to study psychology as a postgraduate.

In 1968, she joined Volunteers in Service to America (VISTA) where she started to become politically engaged. She found great inspiration in the Civil Rights Movement dealing with class inequality. She recalls, "We were concerned with how working-class boys were sent to Vietnam and how farmworkers in the Central Valley were being mistreated."

Early Training Lacy's experience as a female growing up amongst the Californian counterculture of the time shaped her beliefs. She would continue on to Fresno State College to further her studies in psychology and while there gained a reputation as "that angry woman." According to her, "I suspect I was quite formulated by that moment in ways that have lasted: my relationship to my body and to physicality, my commitment to social change, equity, my lifelong interest in cross-cultural friendships, understanding difference, my general resistance to tradition. I can't say that I've come to reject much of that at all."

It was at Fresno that she met artist Faith Wilding with whom she felt an instant connection. Lacy says, "She was probably the only other person at Fresno that knew anything about feminism. We proceeded one day to stick up signs all over campus saying, 'Feminist meeting tonight.' There must have been over thirty or forty women who showed up. Faith and I sat there dumbfounded and looked at each other and said, 'What do we do now?' We did what has become, I think, a kind of strategy. We began talking about sex." Together the pair started organizing groups to discuss women's liberation.

In 1970, the artist Judy Chicago arrived at the school to teach art and sculpture and began to build the seminal Feminist Art Program. But when Lacy tried to join she was rejected because of her lack of artistic background. Lacy recalled, "[Chicago] said, 'You are on the career track for psychology, and I'm only interested in working with women who will become professional artists.' I didn't know what on earth she was talking about, but I did know I really wanted to be in that program. So Faith and I proceeded for the next several months to strategize how to get me into the program, which we eventually succeeded in doing...I love to tease Judy now, because I'm probably one of the most successful of the artists from that time, along with Faith. We've always teased her about what bad judgment of character she has."

When the Feminist Art Program transitioned to the California Institute for the Arts in 1971, Lacy followed. She worked as a teaching assistant to artist Sheila de Bretteville and studied with Performance artist Allan Kaprow. Inspired, she began producing her own unique brand of what she called "new genre public art," utilizing a mixed media smorgasbord of visual art, film, performance, installation, public practice, and writing. As biographer and art historian Sharon Irish said, "This variety indicates her ceaseless experimentation and challenges her critics and audiences both in labeling her art and in knowing what to expect with each new work."

Yet regardless of medium, Lacy's intentions toward affecting real social change would sit forefront in all of her burgeoning art and activist endeavors. For one early effort, which was inspired by the late '70s Hillside Strangler murders and other acts of violence against women, Lacy and Leslie Labowitz set up the woman's network Ariadne, a group that brought together women in the arts, media, and government to promote feminist issues and act as a voice for the underrepresented.

Mature Period

Achieving recognition as a female artist in the 1970s was no simple feat. Lacy met with all the usual gender discrimination, saying, "People don't always recognize what it was like then, particularly given that there are so many women in the art world now. While there's still a lot of discrimination (men's art prices are higher, they are better recognized, etc.), at that time there were very few women at all recognized or exhibited." Much of Lacy's work was produced in collaboration with other female artists, at times attracting aggression. On one occasion, as she performed with Chicago and Wilding, she uttered something so provocative to one of the men in the audience that he jumped up on stage and tried to strangle her.

This devout feminism enhanced by perpetual curiosity, and a mission to exhaustively research, analyze, and present the results of her never-ending lust for aiding activism and social justice efforts within our society dominates Lacy's public persona. Not much is known, or written about, her social or personal life as she has continued to travel widely for her work, both inside the United States and internationally to places as varied as Vancouver, Canada to the United Kingdom to Quito, Equador. She says, "I just go where I am invited, and where I will learn something. I like traveling and working in a place different to the one I grew up in. I am quite curious about new environments and people."

Because the nature of her work is typically performance-based, Lacy's pieces cannot be archived in the traditional sense. This has resulted in a lack of solid documentation representing her oeuvre. But the connections she has fostered and relationships she has built are timeless. Through these associations, she has sought to leave a legacy for Feminist artists such as the work she did in her early role as a cofounder of the Women's Building, the center of study and activism for women artists that grew out of the Feminist Studio Workshop, established in 1973 by Chicago, Arlene Raven and Levrant de Bretteville. For her 1979 work International Dinner Party, a tribute to Chicago's legendary The Dinner Party (1979), Lacy organized more than 200 women to host dinners worldwide, including artists Mary Beth Edelson, Ana Mendieta, and Louise Bourgeois.

Although Lacy has found critical international recognition for her work, it has not been a lucrative career. As Sharon Irish said, "Lacy made substantial sacrifices in terms of opportunities, income and fame." Her works - often expensive and complicated to organize - have been largely funded through foundations and corporations, leaving her without a straight-forward commodity to sell to a collector or gallery per se. As such, she has consistently supplemented her income through teaching, arts administration, and critical theoretical writings on her art, her process, and art's place in social change.

Current Work

Lacy's artistic practice continues to thrive and influence the next generation. A recent project titled "School for Revolutionary Girls" orchestrated at the Irish Museum of Modern Art in Dublin saw Lacy working with twenty teenage girls over a ten-day period. The "workshop" had the young women explore their own relationship to the 1916 rising of the Irish Revolution and its connection to their own lives growing up as females in contemporary times. After the consciousness-raising process, the girls presented their own "manifesto," for some the first endeavor at practicing, and experiencing the power, of their own "public" voices.

The Legacy of Suzanne Lacy

In 2019, the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art and Yerba Buena Center for the Arts simultaneously presented the first full retrospective of the artist's 50-year career. Titled Suzanne Lacy: We Are Here, the exhibition was, in her own words, "reactivated" for a contemporary audience. The curators explained, "Her work resonates very much with our current times - given her focus on issues such as the rights of women, the role of media in criminalizing youth of color, the importance of dialogue across divides of gender, age, race and class - these are of central importance everywhere today, including in museums, and we expect it will continue to resonate for the foreseeable future." As art historian Bridget Quinn pointed out, it is a "somewhat depressing commentary on social progress" that Lacy's work is still so relevant today.

After visiting the retrospective, Quinn described, "Maybe it's coincidence, but the further into the exhibition I went - passing pieces on animal cruelty, aging, plastic surgery, rape, and other forms of violence against women - the fewer people were with me. By the time I reached the back wall, only two other women were still looking. One said, 'Let's change, Joyce. This is dealing with some very heavy subjects,' and they went back the way we came."

The power of Lacy's work has undoubtedly been in its ability to effect real social change. For example, her works focused on sexual violence in the 1970s helped end societal silence toward acknowledging rape and improve police response. The feminist art historian Moira Roth has discussed Lacy's impact in terms of her status as both "witch" - the messenger who highlights taboo subjects which otherwise would not be spoken - and "shaman" - a figure standing at the center of society, observing in order to hold benign healing space.

Lacy's reach can be seen in the work of a new generation of politically engaged artists such as activist artist Eric Millican, performance artist Cindy Rehm, and painter and sculptor Mabel Moore.

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bluemist84 · 4 years

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Rationale

“Remember Me”

Creating this piece has taken me on a journey through life and death and what is left behind. I came from a place of grief having lost some import people in my life in recent years and felt empty and dissatisfied with their funerals, memorials and acts of remembrance. In England death is sombre, black and muted and wandering around some of London’s forgotten Victorian cemeteries I felt dismayed by the air of despair and decay that does not do justice to the many names and stories left there.

This led me to explore the vibrancy of other cultures, looking to the colours of Mexico, the dances of Jamaican funerals and the magic of Haitian shrines for inspiration. I live without faith and felt a disconnect of culture and ritual when it came to not only death but how we can remember the people who are no longer here. Bowker (1991) argues that all religions are born from human’s inability to rationalise death.

Focusing on one’s own death and mortality is a long-held tradition in art from Frida Kahlo and Vincent Van Gough to Ana Mendieta all exploring life’s impermanence through their art. From the start of this research I felt the joy and catharsis art can bring even to the most serious of issues. I made a cloth doll of my Grandmother in a traditional Voodoo act of remembrance and despite the wonderful memories it conjured, it felt like appropriation of another culture and I knew I needed to incorporate my own postmodern and existential beliefs into my Art. I have thoroughly enjoyed exploring the #deathpositive movement.

Having looked at death masks as a fascinating, tactile memento mori I realised I wanted to use my face as the central focus of my practice. Experimenting with face casting I made a reusable silicone mould that can be used repeatedly to make an exact likeness of my face. I cast clear resin to make a memory face filled with special things including my children’s baby teeth, the other I embedded LEDs in to ‘light up my face’. I even made a jelly cast of my face with my children that they relished eating.

Finally, as technology now defines so much of human existence it felt fitting to explore how technology could be used in this context. 3D artists such as Morehshin Allahyari and George Stamenov have used 3D printing and scanning to preserve the memories of lost artefacts and places and I felt this was the perfect way to preserve my face. My face is now data that can be reproduced in any material to be held, touched and remembered forever.

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la-liga-zine · 7 years

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Memory and Film: A Conversation with DIY Filmmaker Caitlin Diaz

At 28, Caitlin Diaz has had the privilege of working with world-renowned clients as a colorist, archivist, and filmmaker, amassing an impressive body of work that shows her nuance and passion for working behind the camera. She currently lives in Los Angeles, working freelance on various projects from her home studio, but her heart is and has always been rooted in the Rio Grande Valley region of Texas. As her "source of inspiration and security," Caitlin recently undertook her most arduous and personal project yet: an independently produced and financed feature film based in RGV about women and transformation. In our interview below, we trace Caitlin's deep connection to her hometown, her experience as a woman of color in the film industry, and the power of DIY culture.

Mia Rodriguez: You’ve said that your work “explores the state that is commonly and absurdly called existence.” What does it mean to you to exist in the modern world as a Latinx?

Caitlin Diaz: Existing in this world is very layered and I try to retain as many experiences as possible, good and bad. Being a Mexican-American woman from South Texas plays a huge role in my life and how I perceive the world around me. Living authentically is always my goal--being resilient, sincere and compassionate all at the same time. It’s a difficult balance, especially as a woman of color, but (in my opinion) necessary to strive towards.

MR: As a colorist and archivist, a lot of your work is intrinsically nostalgic. What are your earliest memories of film, color, and capturing memories? Was it a hobby that developed into something more?

CD: Nostalgia definitely is the spark when conceptualizing a new project. All of my films pull from the past to help me understand the person I am at the current moment. We’re constantly in flux. Memories help bind the chaotic nature of my evolution as something constant, something I can always go back to. I’ve always been interested in knowing more about my family history, cherishing the stories that my grandparents, parents, tías and tíos share with me. So I hoard old family photos, record the stories and digitize any and all home movies. I’m obsessed with the past: the idea of what was once there and now isn’t, how things (and people) have changed. It continues to fascinate me.

MR: Your work ethic and aesthetic eye have allowed you to work with big clients such as The Estate of Ana Mendieta, Calvin Klein, Swarovski and artists like Nick Jonas, Enrique Iglesias and Beyoncé. What was it like the first time you saw your work shared with the world in such a big way? What did working with these brands and artists teach you?

CD: My work ethic is a direct correlation to me being a woman of color (morena) in an industry dominated by white males. I’ve always felt that I had to prove I belonged, that I was capable. I'm not afraid to ask for help if I need it. I think it's important to know and accept your limits. Many times I've been thrown into a project with no prior knowledge, so I must ask questions in order to do my job properly. I love learning and hate when things get too routine.

When I began working in LA, I was exposed to a lot of new workflows and machinery. I learned so much from my colleagues and developed really great relationships and valuable skills. My favorite job quickly became film restorations—every step in the process requires an incredible amount of attention to detail. It’s a match made in heaven because I’ve always been attracted to methodical processes. The most rewarding aspect of working on a digital restoration like the Estate of Ana Mendieta or Belladonna of Sadness is knowing that you’re a part of something larger: preserving the material for future generations to enjoy.

All these projects have taught me to approach my work with a more exacting eye. Currently, I work out of my home studio as a freelance film colorist and editor, so organization is always my top priority. I think the biggest lesson I’ve learned from working on big projects is to not allow stress or frustration to take over. Sometimes when things go awry (hard drives failing) or you’re up against a tight deadline, it’s easy to get caught up the chaos. But when you step back and take a look at the issue from afar, you realize the pettiness of worrying and you’re usually able to find a way to solve the problem.

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MR: Recently, you’ve entered into the post production stage of your first feature film, Puras Ilusiones, which takes place in a fictional town in South Texas, part of the Rio Grande Valley where you grew up. A favorite critical theorist of mine is Nancy Duncan who co-wrote a book called “Landscapes of Privilege,” in which she describes the connection between identity and place, landscape and memory. She says that “landscapes are integral to our identities,” describes them as “emblems of our individual and collective memories,” and that “threats to the landscape are often interpreted as threats to identity.” What are your thoughts on the landscape of the Rio Grande Valley? What does it represent to you? What memories of yours and your family dwell there?

CD: The RGV will represent my core being para siempre. The geographical and social landscape of the area is what drives me to explore this connection. I love the history of the area, the people who inhabit it, the culture and its close proximity to/relationship with Mexico. At the moment, 45’s border wall and industrialization of the untouched coastline (LNG export terminals) are two major concerns residents of the area have. The Valley is constantly referred to as one of the poorest regions of the US and, being so close to the Mexico border, one of the most dangerous areas of the country. There is more to the Valley than the negativities the press focus on. Memories from my childhood are pleasant: riding bikes on unpaved streets, day trips to Camargo or Migel Aleman with the family, pumpkin empanadas, raspas and breakfast tacos, thrifting at the Ropa Usada (10 cents a pound!), palm trees, mesquite trees and chachalacas…I can go on forever. It’s a beautiful area that is constantly overlooked and under-represented in the media. The Rio Grande Valley holds a lot of weight in the conversation about race, immigration, gender inequality, income inequality, reproductive rights, LGBTQ issues and countless others. It’s important we share these experiences and stories with the rest of the world.

MR: Following that train of thought, how much of Puras Ilusiones is based on your own experience growing up there? What makes you want to revisit and immortalize RGV now as an adult?

CD: Ironically, it was after I moved away from Texas when my interest in the RGV began to influence my work. I wrote Puras Ilusiones on and off for about 5 years. I pulled inspiration from memories I had and stories I invented based off old family photos. Both my grandmothers have wonderful stories from their lives. Nostalgia is always fun to explore. The land became a character and I kept daydreaming of desert ranches. I knew that whenever I decided to make the film, it would be shot on my family’s ranch in the RGV. So memories and historical events became the constant musings during the writing process. Last year in the midst of #NoDAPL, I read an article about a similar situation happening in the RGV. At the same time, it was the 50th anniversary of the 1966 Melon Strike—an event that sparked the United Farmworkers movement in Texas. The film evolved into a type of research project and a way for me to capture the beauty of the area.

MR: The plot of Puras Ilusiones is about female self-discovery, but it also tells the story of the grassroots campaigns, history of the land, and social justice activism you've mentioned is happening in the RGV region. Art and activism continue to be at the forefront of a lot of social change we see and have been seeing for decades. Personally, how do you see art and activism influencing each other, working together, to fight for justice? Do you believe art can be activism?

CD: Art and activism most definitely go hand in hand. The night of the 2016 election, I was extremely emotional, scared for what the future held and saddened by the possibility that I would never be able to make this film. The next day [my friend] Lauren texted me, ‘Girl, we HAVE to make your movie now.’ And that’s what lit a fire under my ass to get this production rolling. I realized this was my way of resisting the new administration, of addressing issues regarding gender, race and class through cinema, of disproving stereotypes. It gave me purpose and helped me harness pent-up energy. Sometimes we can feel overwhelmed by the news and social media, feeling like we always must have an opinion on every issue. A big part of activism is listening to others. Making this film was my way of meeting other people in the RGV who were resisting and hearing their stories. It was a way for me to give back to the community that shaped me into who I am today. The film became a tangible way for me to fight back.

MR: As your first personal, narrative film project, what has it been like directing and guiding your cast? Did you work organically off of their energy and chemistry or was there a set script and storyline? What have you learned from working with veterans and newcomers alike?

CD: I’m used to making films in a pretty isolated way. My previous work is all paint on film, so my process was working alone in my studio painting, splicing, editing, coloring. I love documenting objects/places in life and cutting them together to express a feeling or memory. Puras Ilusiones was a huge departure from how I had previously made films, so I approached it as a large-scale collaboration. I worked with trained actors and non-actors resulting in a range of experiences. Individual activists and organizations such as Save RGV From LNG and La Union del Pueblo Entero (LUPE) also joined the cast and crew, which allowed us to showcase the work they are currently doing in the Valley. Resistance in the area is strong and it deserves to be talked about.

My crew and cast were completely invested in the project and it really showed. It was a wonderful experience to work with people who share a passion for what they're doing. There isn’t much dialogue in the script, so I encouraged my actors to improvise and inject a lot of their own experiences into the characters. There were only 10 of us on crew and we had a ton of gear to lug around. It was a grassroots, DIY production which meant we were constantly problem-solving. But it made the feeling of accomplishment stronger at the end of each day. We were also shooting all 16mm, which was a first for a lot of my crew. Our budget was extremely tight so we had to wait until we wrapped production to send all the film to be processed and transferred. My DP Lauren Pruitt and I were on edge for weeks until the footage arrived in LA. It looked so beautiful, I think we both cried a little out of relief. The biggest takeaway from production was the importance of enthusiasm on set. It was important to me that anyone involved was having a good time and never bored. It was wonderful to have such a lively crew and cast, especially since we had to work in the harsh Texas heat during many outdoor shoots. It also reaffirmed my belief in DIY filmmaking--not needing permission from anyone to make a film, not letting it become an elite art form. It can be done, but it’s a huge undertaking to see it through.

We've seen in recent years a huge resurgence of DIY ethics in film, print, art, and online media; people really going back to their roots and creating things locally as self-taught artists. You're a huge believer of DIY culture and your volume and quality of work are proof that sometimes, you really do have to do it yourself. Can you tell us more about how DIY culture drives or inspires you? As an artist of color, have you found freedom through DIY?

DIY culture became a very important part of my life in my formative years. Throughout high school, my friends and I would put on shows, mostly bands we had formed, in various places around the Valley like the local VFW or after-hours in the parking lot of a hardware store. Similarly, my sister and I would spend our weekends thrifting across the Valley, bring our haul home, cut it up and sew it into something new. We created the clothes we wanted to wear, the music we wanted to hear, the art we wanted to experience. There was a lot of that happening in the Valley while I was growing up; it came as a very natural way for us to express ourselves on our own terms.

The passion to create without hesitation stayed with me as a moved further and further away from the Valley. It’s pushed me to experiment with film. DIY culture forces you to stop making excuses. And in filmmaking, there can be hundreds of reasons why you feel you can’t make a film. DIY allows you to have control of what you are creating and to realize that there is never a wrong way to execute your ideas. Punk is the essence of DIY—complete, unapologetic self-expression. DIY filmmaking gives you the freedom to share your point of view because you don’t have to answer to anyone else.

MR: When can we expect to see the finished work and where would you like to premiere it?

CD: Puras Ilusiones is currently in post, which is probably my favorite part of the process. I’m editing whenever I have downtime between freelance work. My goal is to have it completed by late Summer/Fall 2018. I’d like to do a traveling screening throughout the RGV, specifically in the towns we filmed. I’m excited to share the film with the people who helped me make it and with the community that inspired it. Eventually, I'd love to have a 35mm film print made and screen the film on a larger scale so others can experience the beauty of the Rio Grande Valley.

MR: What does the future hold for you? Are there any other projects you’re currently working on or plan to start once Puras Ilusiones is released?

CD: My current goal is working with more female & female-identifying filmmakers, especially those who are trying to make their own stories come to life. It’s necessary to surround myself with others who are creating. I’m enjoying the editing process and taking my time with it because I hate rushing or forcing creativity. When I have ideas, I write them down. It’s hard to commit to a new project with the current one being in such a crucial state. But I definitely look forward to finishing the film and starting work on the next one.

Puras Ilusiones is a self-funded, independent film. Caitlin is editing & coloring the film herself but will be working with others on music, sound design, visual effects, subtitling and additional film transfers. If you'd like to help with the costs of post, please donate to the film's PayPal here

To see more of Caitlin's work, visit her website

#Interview #Caitlin Diaz #Mia Rodriguez #film

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