When I had the opportunity to see Rodin's house & garden, I encountered his bronze Eve. At first, I was repulsed. Here was another male judgment of fallen womanhood, of woman as the weak and ashamed temptress, cast down for bringing the forbidden fruit to man. Her arms defensively attempt to shield her heart from the onslaught of Adam and God's blame. Her head is tilted submissively, and her gaze is downcast. She is the punished woman, reacting in fear and pain for her "sin" of seeking knowledge.
The sculpture seemed so traditional, so banal, so overwhelmingly misogynist in its message. But as I stood there looking at Eve, in her corner room with the light falling around her, the longer I stared, the more her slightly rounded belly spoke to me. And genuinely looking at her, my hostility melted away. I began to feel sympathetic with Eve, even in her fearful pose. I turned on my audio guide and discovered that Rodin's model had been pregnant. Rodin later learned this and realized Eve was pregnant too. Both the model and statue had evaded the great artist's consciousness.
The Eve standing before me spoke with her obvious gestures the narrative men have constructed about women. Yet, under the flamboyant artifice was the more genuine, natural truth. Eve had in part escaped the sculptor; she was not just the embodiment of men blaming womankind for "original sin"-- she was a woman carrying the secret, creative knowledge born inside and solely reachable by women. She was no longer just what men think of women, but often what women feel and experience beyond the designs and realizations of men.
I felt this quite powerfully. Yet, even the audio guide attempted to reestablish Rodin's original narrative. They commented that this bronze Eve was "condemned to eternal gestation." This judgment of pregnancy is a completely limited perspective on women's lives, power, and bodies. This argument follows the declaration in Genesis that pregnancy is primarily a punishment, God's curse to bear children in pain. But from what I have experienced so far about pregnancy, I certainly don't feel "doomed" or "condemned," but truly a part of life and something beautiful, creative, and potent. The audio commentary and Rodin's original message seemed to miss so much of the reality of what it means to be pregnant and part of the eternal maternal-- far beyond the grasp of an angry, patriarchal God's punishment for merely existing as a woman. In truth pregnancy is closer to the creative source of love and life, which is partially accompanied by pain and fear but arises through the inner depth and strength of womankind.
Showing posts with label Art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Art. Show all posts
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Pregnant Eve
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Swine Flu
J.D. has a coworker that just returned from Mexico. He decorated her desk with five of these little piggies. Three of them had masks and two didn't, including one male pig with a smirky smile and a female pig with large, luscious lips. J.D. cut the masks, and I decorated them. It was our art project. . . . we've got to entertain ourselves somehow! The pigs were evidently a big hit at work. Other coworkers have asked if they can have a piggy once she gets tired of them. :)
p.s. J.D. liked this particular pig best with his paranoid eyeballs.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Art Fair
van Gogh's "Wheat Field with a Lark"Well, it was time for the Clayton Art Fair again. It's always so crowded, and this year there didn't seem to be anything outrageous or very amusing, of course, other than the prices. Most were between $1,100- $5,000. Although, there was one landscape by an artist named Deanna Henion that both J.D. and I liked a lot. It was a long canvas with rolling blue hills, a grey-blue sky, and a little light green in a golden wheat field. It reminded me of home. But it was $850. Still, comparatively, it was a bargain. And it was beautiful. Looking at it gave you a feeling of expansiveness and a sense of breathing fresh air.
When it comes to paintings, at least ones I'd like to own, I do have a fondness for landscapes. I like van Gogh's wheat fields a lot, in the way that he captures the wind moving through the grain. I enjoy his "The Green Wheat Field," "The Fields," "Wheat Field under a Cloudy Sky," "Wheat Field with a Lark," and "Wheat Field with Cypresses." But, if $850 wasn't going to happen, I don't think 35 million dollars.... well, obviously, you get the point.
Still, it was amusing yesterday. It's good J.D. and I have similar taste, for the day we eventually do buy any art. And it's always fun to look around until then.
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