Tiffany Hale: Post 1

In a contemporary survey of art history course, many students feel a sense of superiority or liberation from the conventional restraints of antiquity. Art created in the Middle ages feels archaic not only because of the appearance of the subject, but also because students feel far from it. While it holds true that pervasive technology affords a macro-exposure to a myriad of opinions, the status quo has yet to be shattered. Art and art history is still very much created and observed under the assumption of a male gaze. In an excerpt of "Ways of Seeing" by John Berger paralleled with "The Oppositional Gaze" by bell hooks, both authors expose the full integration of the prevailing white male supremacy into works of art, and our ways of viewing said works. 




To fully understand the impact of the concept, it is necessary to define the male gaze. Berger does an excellent job of defining male gaze through comparison of the way the male gaze affects the mindset of males versus females. He begins with a dichotomy: "A man's presence is dependent upon the promise of power which he embodies...a woman's presence expresses her own attitude to herself, and defines what can and cannot be done to her" (Berger 45-46). The author speaks exclusively from visual cues, as in the majority of art we have only a visual to contextualize form, without a series of writings. The visual presentation of any man is, according to Berger, a presentation of his power and agency. Immediately we think of what said man can do. In contrast, with a woman, her appearance expresses a lack of agency. It doesn't convey what she does, but "what can and cannot be done to her" (46). For example, the woman in the image below conveys several different ideas. Berger argues that the average viewer will perceive the woman as receptive to professional speak, and genial interaction, based on her business casual attire and smile. To put it simply, we think instantly of what we can do to or with her, not what she has power to do of her own volition.

Berger continues to explain "men survey women before treating them. Consequently how a woman appears to a man can determine how she will be treated"  (Berger 46). Within the context of art history, this becomes absolutely vital to the nude. Within the context of his own argument, Berger reveals that women aren't nude for their own self expression. Indeed, by his own definition, the physical appearance of a woman sets the parameters for her treatment. In that line of thinking, the nude becomes a woman without volition. Overall, patriarchy dictated that wealth and the ability to produce art was almost exclusively a male privilege. In a society without the prevalence of a male gaze, one might think this results in predominantly male subject matter.  Instead, men paint women. A woman who is naked, sitting for an artist, is at the complete mercy of his physical and artistic will. The artist can present the ideal woman: a nude, revealing enough of her body to satisfy a heterosexual male appetite, smiling appeasingly at her audience who exercises their will over the idea of her. It's not about who the woman is or what she desires or even why she's nude in the image. It becomes completely about the satisfaction of the power holder, the white male, and the male gaze. 

While Berger successfully posits and contextualizes the problem, hooks presents a possible solution. In her article, "The Oppositional Gaze", she specifically critiques film media and its sexist and racist paradigms. The creation of media in America cannot exist outside the the paradigm, which results in a keen exclusion  of positive Black, female imagery. To cope and accurately frame these works,  black women must "critically assess the cinema's construction of white womanhood as object of phallocentric gaze and choose not to identify with either victim or the perpetrator" (hooks 122). hooks' definition of the oppositional gaze relies on honest critique and identification of self outside the status quo. The opposition lies in the analysis. The power lies in looking back with an attitude of critique and refusal to accept what is presented to you. A great example of the oppositional gaze made manifest is Artemisia Gentileschi's "Susanna and the Elders" from 1610. The story of Susanna revolves around the seduction of a married woman by corrupted men. in Tintoretto's work, referenced by both Mary Chadwick and John Berger, is an image with dual dialogue. It speaks of the obvious story of Susanna, whose surveyors peer around a garden wall to view her naked flesh. The work also, however, comments on female flaw. Tintoretto's Susanna is too preoccupied with her own reflection to notice the voyeurs. She is victimized by her own sin, vanity. Gentileschi's Susanna is a different dialogue. The pose of the subject, Susanna, is twisted and defiant, showing an explicit displeasure with the Elders. The Elders themselves are shrouded in the shadow of their own conspiracy as the dramatic light splashes Susanna. Gentileschi critiques and disrupts a prevailing dialogue of victim-blaming established by underlying sexism, prevalent in Tintoretto's work,to create a new way of contextualizing the images. She lives, and therefore gazes, in opposition and creates work that appeals to her truth as a female artist.

From a personal perspective, learning of the concepts of male gaze and oppositional gaze solidified an instinctual way I have always lived. As a female, I have always realized that a lot of visual media presumes a male as the prioritized viewer. Especially in advertisements, I often feel like an ad is geared toward a male or, if explicitly for a female, has undertones of this product increasing the aspects of the woman pleasing the male. bell hooks' work really struck a cord with me for its analytic content. I absolutely love movies, and consider going to a movie theater one of the rare little indulgences I get to do when I have free time. I have lived a life of turning off my brain in order to enjoy mainstream Hollywood films. I don't consider myself a radical or political type to go screaming on rooftops about the racism or sexism in film; however, if there existed a book of tropes and archetypes, I could confidently say a person like me is not included. hooks validated the conversations I have after a particularly awfully exclusive romantic comedy with my friends. We might laugh at the ridiculous notions of the film, but our laughter doesn't make the critiques any less valid. The two articles were interesting reads to reframe, in academic terms, tangible experiences from my life.