Friday, June 17, 2011

Some Thoughts on the Gender Narrative

I constantly go back and forth on whether or not I like exhibits, concerts, etc. devoted to female artists (see my post on the specialty concert for my usual opinion). Although I am highly critical of things that are gender-specific because I worry about inherent issues of marginalization, I do think good arguments can be made either way for their existence, and this weekend I stumbled upon a museum that made an excellent case for why gender-specific spaces are important.

It was not until this past weekend that I learned that there is a museum in DC specifically for women in the arts (to clarify, this is probably more a statement of my suburban knowledge of the DC museum scene, rather than any statement of this particular museum’s visibility). It was a really wonderful and affirming experience. There were works of art from 2011 all the way back to around 1500, emphasizing the presence of female artists (visual artists) even from time periods during which the culture was highly unsupportive.

After walking through the many rooms of the museum and seeing painting after painting and photograph after photograph of people, stories, narratives, and implicit social observations I was struck by something tangible: this museum felt different than a typical museum. The artwork in this space made me think about the subject of the art rather than the artist herself. There was a modesty about the experience, a sense of reserve…a sense of really good storytelling—where you no longer are even conscious of the storyteller, but are instead getting lost in the story. I would say that the vast majority (90% or higher) of the artwork I saw in this museum featured a human figure and/or some kind of social scene.

This started to make me think about music. Is it a coincidence that “narrative” works and vocal music are often considered to be “feminine” forms of music? I don’t agree with a lot that Susan McClary has to say (her sexualization of music frustrates me, in particular), but I do think it’s interesting that she and many others label the more narrative composers in a gendered way. So often in music history courses we are fed the historical narrative of Schubert and Beethoven, which tends to feature Schubert as the gentler, less substantial musical force than the heroic poundings of Beethoven. Anybody who is intimately familiar with Schubert’s works can tell you that the man was a genius in his own right, but how can his lieder (a narrative and, therefore supposedly more “feminine” form), for example, compete with Beethoven’s “absolute music,” especially when the historical narrative of what is “high art” music was (and largely still is) written by men?  

It is interesting to me, for example, that in the 1800s and early 1900s women had access to piano music, to their own voices and other singers, and to small chamber music and that they made music (Clara Schumann, Fanny Mendelssohn, Alma Mahler, Ruth Crawford Seeger, the list goes on…), but that the historical narrative of what was “high art” music became something that was, at the time, culturally out of their reach. According to Alex Ross’s compassionate but far too brief account of Ruth Crawford Seeger’s career in The Rest is Noise, Charles Seeger destroyed his own wife’s confidence and ability to compose by his “neolithic belief” that women were incapable of symphonic composition (Ross, 272). As a side note, Gustav Mahler is also famous for his attempt to repress any creative activity from Alma.

I don’t think that this shutting out of women from larger ensemble forms is any coincidence, but it has left an indelible mark on the way we view music and the way we decide what is “good” music, which is part of why I take such issue with big name prizes (such as the Pulitzer) being awarded largely to big ensemble pieces. Furthermore, it frustrates me that in certain circles this narrative continues to exist, thus ignoring countless female composers who write vocal music, collaborate with artists and dancers, etc., instead of necessarily writing symphonies.

Maybe, sometimes, we do need specialty concerts, exhibits, and museums. At the National Museum of Women in the Arts I was able to forget about the “narrative” that our culture has constructed about what makes “good” art and was able to actually just enjoy good art…what a refreshing change!

Posted by Natalie

1 comment:

  1. It may sound strange, but I also think that one of the better outcomes of gender-specific art space is, frankly, that it gives men the experience of being grossly outnumbered and having to look at someone else being the default for a change. Of going up to a piece of artwork and just not even having to consider that the artist isn't One Of Your Kind.

    Of being the alien. And in a space they have assumed to own. Not a bake-off or a scrapbooking convention, but an art gallery.

    And let's face it, most art spaces are already gender-specific NOW, only with us on the losing end. If we don't make concomitant spaces for women, then we will NEVER see those women's art, ever. Ever. Had that museum not existed, you would have died without even knowing most of those women existed.

    If the alternative is that all women's work is effectively erased from the planet the second the first spadeful of dirt hits the lid of their coffins, then I'm happy to run the risk of a little marginalization. It beats the alternative of nonexistence, and give you more to work with. At least you can expand outward from the margins, as long as you are willing to exert constant, unyielding pressure. You can't expand outward from nonexistence.

    ReplyDelete