NUDE SELF-PORTRAITS
5 Female Artists Using the Medium to Empower
If you read Diana Spechler’s recent New York Times opinion piece, deeming that in the age of COVID-19 “The Nude Selfie Is Now High Art,” and felt like something was missing, you’re not alone. While the article discussed nude self-portraiture’s deep-rooted position in art history, it missed the opportunity to analyze nude selfies to gender, race or sexuality. Historically, a nude self-portrait was a revolutionary tool for female artists to depict the body in their work since they couldn’t attend figure drawing classes with naked models present. Although Spechler notes that women began to create nude self-images at the beginning of the 20th century to break free from the male gaze, there’s no discussion of how the concept and perception of nudity changes based on the skin color, gender or sex of the subject.
Naked selfies may be “high art” as people yearn for physical connection during this isolating pandemic. However, we still live in a heteronormative, patriarchal society where an insidious sexual double-standard exists when it comes to who’s allowed to display their nude body without being shamed and condemned. So, to expand the conversation, Spechler started—here are five contemporary female artists who have used naked self-portraiture to subvert stereotypes and empower women.
Jenny Saville, Propped (1992)
When British artist Jenny Saville painted herself unapologetically nude and fleshy—staring at viewers while perched atop a phallic black post—it not only challenged canonized ideals of female beauty but also launched her career. The work was included in the seminal 1997 exhibition, “Sensation: Young British Artists” at the Royal Academy of Arts. Although her painting style is reminiscent of male masters who came before her, like Willem de Kooning and Lucian Freud, she warps the dominant idea of the female nude that they reinforced by inserting obese women as the subjects.
Renee Cox, Yo Mama (1993)
Jamaican-born African-American artist Renee Cox often depicts herself and other black women as icons and mythical figures to overthrow the white narrative of traditional Christian art. In Yo Mama, Cox embodies a Madonna, or Virgin Mary, type-figure in a commanding, large-scale photograph. The image is saturated with sexual power and confidence, as Cox stands nude in black high heels, wielding her son like a weapon. The photo is part of a more extensive series portraying the “Yo Mama” character, which Cox was inspired to create while she was the first pregnant artist during the Whitney Independent Study program.
Catherine Opie, Self-Portrait/Pervert (1994)
American photographer Catherine Opie’s artistic practice reflects her solidarity with the groups she documents. She created Self-Portrait/Pervert alongside her acclaimed series representing fellow members of San Francisco’s queer leather subculture. Her self-portrait, like the series, roots contemporary issues of queer identity in tradition, as the portrait’s background recalls the sixteenth-century paintings of Hans Holbein. Throughout her oeuvre, which includes dignified and formal photographs of transgender women and men, drag queens and BDSM culture, Opie uses conventional studio portraiture to invert heterosexual norms of identity and sexuality.
Carrie Mae Weems, Not Manet’s Type (1997)
Perhaps one of the most influential contemporary American artists, and a 2013 recipient of the MacArthur “Genius” grant, is Carrie Mae Weems. She often explores family relationships, sexism, cultural identities, class and power hierarchies throughout her works. In the five-part series Not Manet’s Type, Weems uses nude self-portraits with text. It is all a commentary on the disregard, objectification and fetishization of black women’s bodies. The prose accompanying the prints read: “Standing on shaky ground, I posed myself for critical study, but was no longer certain of the questions to ask / It was clear I was not Manet’s type, Picasso—who had a way with women—only used me & Duchamp never even considered me / But it could have been worse, imaging my fate had De Kooning gotten hold of me / I knew, not from memory, but from hope, that there were other models by which to live / I took a tip from Frida, who from her bed painted incessantly—beautifully while Diego scaled the scaffolds to the top of the world.”
Leah Schrager, Selfie Examination (2016)
Digital artist and online performer Leah Schrager uses nude self-portraiture—which she manipulates by painting over her form—to explore how images of women are shared, criticized and interpreted by the art world, internet and society-at-large. Along with her visual selfies, Schrager amassed 3 million Instagram followers and recognition in Artforum and Playboy, with her cam-worker/conceptual art-project Ona. Ona was created in 2015 and retired this year. Schrager wrote on her Instagram, “Sure, it’s trendy to support female empowerment via ‘you go, girl’ and ‘be proud of your body,’ yet a digital ‘art world’ is being built on purified platforms like FB, IG, and Drip that censor out nudity and limit, to a huge degree, how some girls (and artists) wish to express pride, and, yes, even profit off their bodies.”
