I hear the question, “Why are there no great female artists?” less these days than I used to. That only means one thing to me: That it’s less socially acceptable to ask the question than it used to be. Instead, we ask “Who are the most famous women artists of all time?” That’s not the same thing as asking who are the greatest, or best women artists of all time. I am sure there are plenty of great women artists we’ve never heard of. Do we equate great artists with famous artists or vice versa? And what makes a piece of art famous anyway? There’s a great New Yorker cartoon captioned, I don’t know much about art, but I know what I like. As for me, I like art that challenges me, engages me and draws me in. I don’t have to think it’s pretty. I don’t have to understand it, at least right away.
What passed for art education in high school taught me that African Tribal art was primitive and that Cubism was sophisticated. I know now that that’s hogwash, but it was really driven home to me when I saw an exhibit of the work of Emma Amos at the Philadelphia Museum of Art which had one of her works entitled “Muse Picasso.” I didn’t get a good picture of “Muse Picasso” when I was at the museum, so I Googled the term for an image. Here’s what my search turned up. I love Picasso, but there was nothing about Amos’ work. Bupkis.
I was expressing my frustration to Beading Yoda, when she told me that Amos had been a neighbor and close friend of hers when they both lived in Greenwich Village years ago. Beading Yoda had suspected that Amos was a member of the Guerrilla Girls and later learned that she was. I remembered that I’d seen an exhibition on the Guerrilla Girls at the Tate Modern in London. I did manage to get a good picture of this poster.
I will post about the Emma Amos exhibit in the coming weeks, and about another great exhibit of Suzanne Valadon’s work I saw at the Barnes Foundation. While you’re waiting, here are posts you might find interesting, on Mildred Greenberg and Christina Robertson.
Ornamento 