Portrait of the Appealing
“Suzy Solidor,” 1927
photograph
Man Ray
Throughout history, a woman’s body has come to represent not just her existence, but also her worth. This can be seen in the lack of evolution of women in paintings, photography, or any other form of artistic representation. When exploring museums and galleries such as the Metropolitan Museum of Art, one can see the different landscapes or themes painters have focused on through the ages. It is undeniable that women are one of the most painted models, as you are met with some sort of female portrayal in every room.
Each portrayal tells us a different story, whether it be one of loneliness, happiness, sexuality, wealth, or of power. If you were to dive deeper, you would notice a pattern forming. A pattern in which the women in these paintings have no power over how they are being portrayed. The essence of who they are is left for the painter to determine. Their beauty, wealth, and power is left at the mercy of the paintbrush. It makes one question whether they had some contribution to how they were depicted; if there was an agreement between the painter and his subject.
In his 1997 essay, “Small Steps Toward the Visible”, John Berger explores this relation between painter and model as one of companionship. The esteemed art critic and novelist introduces this by highlighting what is represented in paintings “from the Palaeolithic period until our century”(Berger, 1997). Berger argues that through painting, each artist is testifying to what they’ve witnessed in their lives.
In his words, “every painted image announces: I have seen this, or, when the making of the image was incorporated into a tribal ritual: We have seen this. The this refers to the sight represented… Painting is, first, an affirmation of the visible which surrounds us and which continually appears and disappears”(Berger, 1997). This “affirmation of the visible” comes from the previously mentioned companionable collaboration. Berger states that “the impulse to paint comes neither from observation nor from the soul but from an encounter: the encounter between painter and model–even if the model is a mountain or a shelf of empty medicine bottles.” (Berger, 1997). It is important to clarify that this collaboration is not a result of a spoken and explicit conversation, rather it is the result of the connection “between the existent and human ingenuity.” (Berger, 1997).
Moreover, our world is in a constant state of change and evolution, something that can be very unsettling for many. For this reason, humans are desperate to maintain things, making us fear their inevitable change, or disappearance. Thus, painters focus on immortalizing things, in the hope that they’ll never disappear. As Berger explains, “without the disappearing, there would perhaps be no impulse to paint, for then the visible itself would possess the surety which painting strives to find. More directly than any other art, painting is an affirmation of the existent, of the physical world into which mankind has been thrown.” (Berger, 1997). This collaboration, as Berger portrays it, is a mutual agreement between the painter and model. The painter agrees to abandon everything in order to capture the model’s essence as accurately as possible. It can be seen as a useless exchange but in the end, it immortalizes the model for all to see. Through this reasoning, Berger deconstructs “the modern illusion concerning painting,” which is that “the artist is a creator.” The strength of Berger’s argument lies in this point, that the artist is not in fact a creator – “Instead, he is a receiver” (Berger, 1997).
“In art museums we come upon the visible of other periods and it offers us company. We feel less alone in face of what we ourselves see each day appearing and disappearing… And when the painted image is not a copy but the result of a dialogue, the painted thing speaks if we listen.” (Berger, 1997) Here, Berger alludes to that conversation between painter, artist, and spectator.
When wandering through these art museums one is met with many feminine sets of eyes. It’s striking to see the different messages each depicted gender is used to convey. A man is portrayed to highlight his wealth, power and success in climbing or maintaining his social status. A woman is used to convey the beauty standards of the moment. They are attributes to their husbands, trophies to be decorated and shown to all as beautiful, obedient, and good motherly figures. One example can be found in the MET’s European exhibition, which narrates a story of gender roles and portrayal. Sir Thomas Lawrence’s “The Calmady Children” (1823), spotlights young girls as symbols of youthful beauty. Rosy cheeks, fine tight curls, and shiny porcelain skin ornate the two girls to highlight their purity and innocence. Across from this painting, John Singleton Copley’s “Midshipman Augustus Brine” (1782) protagonizes a thirteen year old midshipman (around the same age as the girls from Lawrence’s painting) as a courageous, high standing, independent young man. The boy’s tall body with a hand on his hip radiates self-importance and seriousness. Copley is not vigorous in making the boy’s beauty and youth the center of his work of art, even when it is still noticeable in the boy’s lusciously straight, dirty blond hair that falls on his shoulders, his full lips, and mysterious blue eyes.
When thinking of Berger’s argument, that the painting is a result of the painter and model, one can debate whether women actually contributed to being portrayed in such ways. Would it still apply? Or is it a way to justify that women took part in this objectification, so it is okay? Another way to explore this topic is through the artistic style of the nude, which Berger also dissects.
In his essay “The Nude” (1972), Berger compares how men and women are depicted in the said style of painting, and how gender plays into how we see and receive each painting’s messages. He states that “in the nudes of European painting we can discover some of the criteria and conventions by which women have been seen and judged as sights.” (Berger, 1972). The use of the word ‘sights’ is extremely important. In fact, Merriam-Webster defines it as “a thing regarded as worth seeing.” (Merriam-Webster, 2022).
Women’s worth has often been measured by how appealing they appear to the male gaze. Berger begins his essay by identifying how each sex is perceived. “A man’s presence suggests what he is capable of doing to you or for you. His presence may be fabricated, in the sense that he pretends to be capable of what he is not. But the presence is always towards a power which he exercises on others.” (Berger, 1972).
For instance, Berger uses the “Judgement of Paris” by Cranach to exemplify this portrayal of power. (Cranach,1528). The painting depicts three naked women and two fully clothed men in armor looking up at them. This shows the power these men have, even if they are the ones looking up at the women; the women are the ones being laid bare and vulnerable for their judgment. Berger further argues that “by contrast, a woman’s presence expresses her own attitude to herself, and defines what can and cannot be done to her. Her presence is manifest in her gestures, voice, opinions, expressions, clothes, chosen surroundings, taste – indeed there is nothing she can do which does not contribute to her presence.” (Berger, 1972). Furthermore, Berger uses another version of the “Judgement of Paris” (1636) by Rubens. In said painting, Paris is giving the apple to the goddess he considers the most beautiful. “Thus Beauty becomes competitive. Those who are not judged as beautiful are not beautiful. Those who are, are given the prize.” (Berger, 1972). This not only pits women against each other but also against their inner selves. “One might simplify this by saying: men act and women appear. Men look at women. Women watch themselves being looked at. This determines not only most relations between men and women but also the relation of women to themselves. The surveyor of woman in herself is male: the surveyed female. Thus she turns herself into an object—and most particularly an object of vision: a sight.” (Berger, 1972). Not only do men qualify women in terms of whether they’re sights or not, but they themselves also spend all their lives striving to be just that.
As Susan Sontag said in her 1972 essay “The Double Standard of Aging,” “to be a woman is to be an actress. Being feminine is a kind of theater, with its appropriate costumes, décor, lighting, and stylized gestures. From early childhood on, girls are trained to care in a pathologically exaggerated way about their appearance and are profoundly mutilated (to the extent of being unfitted for first-class adulthood) by the extent of the stress put on presenting themselves as physically attractive objects. Women look in the mirror more frequently than men do. It is, virtually, their duty to look at themselves – to look often. Indeed, a woman who is not narcissistic is considered unfeminine.” For example, Britney Spears’ journey and struggle since she was inserted into the entertainment industry at age fifteen. From childhood, the beloved artist was groomed to fit a specific image of femininity. In her memoir, “The Woman in Me,” she details how this relentless focus on her physical appearance and public image led to significant personal turmoil. The pressure to maintain an idealized image contributed to her mental health struggles, culminating in her highly publicized breakdown in 2007, where she shaved her head as an act of defiance against being seen merely as a "dancing sex-doll". Moreover, the conservatorship imposed on her by her father, which lasted over 13 years, further exemplifies how women can be controlled and dehumanized under the guise of care. During this period, every aspect of her life, including her appearance and personal decisions, was tightly controlled as she was stripped of her right to participate as a fully independent adult.
Throughout his essay on the nude, Berger analyzes many paintings to strengthen his argument. For instance, he introduces the painting “Susanna and the Elders” (1610) by Tintoretto, where the elders spy on her as she takes a bath. In another version of this painting by Tintoretto, painted c.1555, Susanna is looking at herself in a mirror. Thus, “she is joining the spectator in surveying herself.” (Berger, 1972). This once again reinforces Berger’s claim that women perceive themselves through the eyes of the spectator. In fact, mirrors have been commonly used as a symbol of the vanity of women. The mirror is a recurring theme when portraying women in paintings, emphasizing stereotypical social claims of women being superficial and vain. Still, Berger only focuses on the work of men. He certainly emphasizes the impact this objectification has had on women but fails to bring a female voice to the arena.
Many would like to see the perspective of a female painter when painting female nudes; however, not many are interested in exploring the model’s own experience. They often discredit them as being superficial, which in many ways is the result of this same objectification. For this reason, I bring forth Emily Ratajkowski. She is an American model and author of the 2021 book “My Body,” a collection of essays that capture Ratajkowski’s experience as a model and how it has affected her relationship with her body as a woman in the entertainment industry. Ratajkowski opens her book with a quote from John Berger’s “Ways of Seeing,” “you painted a naked woman because you enjoyed looking at her, put a mirror in her hand and you called the painting “Vanity,” thus morally condemning the woman whose nakedness you had depicted for your own pleasure.”
In her first essay, titled “Beauty Lessons,” Ratajkowski lays out a collection of memories, spanning from when she was a child to a model taking part in the fashion industry. Ratajkowski gives the reader the background of how she was brought up to perceive her beauty as something abstract that didn’t belong to her. In her own words, “I knew from a young age that I hadn’t done anything to earn my beauty, just as my grandfather had pointed out to my mother. Was it, then, that my beauty was a thing my mother had given to me? I sensed at times that she felt entitled to it in some way, like a piece of bequeathed jewelry, one that was once hers, one that she’d lived with her entire life. It had been passed down to me heavy with all the tragedies and victories she had experienced with it.” (Ratajkowski, 2021). She also gives the reader an insight into moments in which she has been insecure as a result of this childhood conditioning. “I study red-carpet and paparazzi images of myself online and in the camera roll on my phone, tapping the screen to zoom in on my face as I try to discern whether I am actually beautiful. I scroll Reddit, reading and weighing the comments in my thread, wondering if I am ‘overrated,’ as one user notes, or in fact ‘one of the most beautiful women in the world,’ as another says.” (Ratajkowski, 2021). She perfectly captures the experience of growing up as a woman who is reminded constantly that her purpose should be to appeal.
“To be born a woman has been to be born, within an allotted and confined space, into the keeping of men. The social presence of women has developed as a result of their ingenuity in living under such tutelage within such a limited space. But this has been at the cost of a woman’s self-being split into two. A woman must continually watch herself. She is almost continually accompanied by her own image of herself. Whilst she is walking across a room or whilst she is weeping at the death of her father, she can scarcely avoid envisaging herself walking or weeping. From earliest childhood, she has been taught and persuaded to survey herself continually.” (Berger, 1972). Ratajkowski brings in the female perspective by stating: “I tried to gauge where my parents thought I belonged in the world of beauties. It seemed important to them both, especially to my mother, that their daughter be perceived as beautiful; they enjoyed telling friends about the way people approached me to model and, later, about my modeling successes once I signed with an agency in middle school… Beauty was a way for me to be special. When I was special, I felt my parent’s love for me the most.” (Ratajkowski, 2021). It does not have to be in a sexual way, but it is certain that women see themselves through the lens of the spectator more often than not. Indeed, this may not be true for all women and it does not have to be something women practice constantly.
Many would argue that a woman does not see herself through the lens of the spectator when watching a movie in the comfort of their home. But the truth is that even in moments like that, the male gaze is still present because it is inescapable. It lives within a woman’s mind. As Margaret Atwood argues in “The Robber Bride,” “even pretending you aren’t catering to male fantasies is a male fantasy: pretending you’re unseen, pretending you have a life of your own, that you can wash your feet and comb your hair unconscious of the ever-present watcher peering through the keyhole, peering through the keyhole in your own head, if nowhere else. You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.”
Berger focuses mainly on how painters depict white women, and does not explore the collaboration between artists and women of color. Throughout history, there has clearly been some distinction in how society perceives white women and those of color. For most of it, the former was regarded as a trophy while the latter was an object of production and labor. The common pattern is that women of color, primarily Black women, tend to be whitewashed in art. An article by Sophia Smith Galer titled “How Black Women Were Whitewashed by Art”, dives into how black women have been whitewashed since the Renaissance. She uses Piero di Cosimo’s “Perseus Liberating Andromeda" as an example, as Andromeda is depicted as the whitest person in the scene (Cosimo, 1510-1515). In reality, however, Andromeda was Black (Smith Galer, 2019). Even when she is depicted in her actual skin color, they still uphold conventionally white features. In Piero di Cosimo's painting, she is one of the whitest depicted figures in the scene with her face and bosom nearly pale. As Smith Galer argues, “it’s a complex story – of European racism as well as how useful black biblical figures were to those who wanted to teach religion through art – that helps to explain the absence of black figures in art history.” (Smith Galer, 2019).
For women of color, the way they are perceived and depicted in art has been a long-lasting fight to validate their existence and their cultures. This brings us back to whether a painter and model’s relationship, as Berger argues, can actually be the result of a collaboration. A person that erases the identity of a woman and minimizes her being to an object of appeal isn’t something achieved through consent.
For women to be sexualized and dehumanized in such ways does not come from a “collaboration.” Indeed, as a woman myself, I concur with Berger that when seeing these paintings I “feel less alone in face of what [I myself] see each day appearing and disappearing” (Berger, 1997). If there is anything positive about these paintings is that they immortalized these women, after all the pain and struggles they endured. They are still here. They didn't disappear.
As a teenager, I visited the MoMA and saw a photograph of a naked woman titled “Suzy Solidor” taken by Man Ray in 1929. She had a great presence and she was holding her breasts. She held her breasts delicately yet possessively. I was so drawn to her- I needed to find out who this woman was. Suzy Solidor is the most painted woman in the world. Her collection of portraits extends to more than 250 by various famous painters and photographers, among them Pablo Picasso, Tamara de Lempicka and George Braque. She owned a nightclub, La Vie Parisienne, in which she collected various portraits of herself as a way to take charge of her own image. The way she represented herself to her audience reflected her resistance against rigid boundaries, whether they be social, artistic, political, or sexual. In the words of Tirza True Latimer, her portraits “willfully engaged in the process of defining new social, cultural, professional, and relational possibilities for all women” (Latimer, 2005). Suzy Solidor can represent a turning point, or the beginning of one, in this new age of art for women. She took charge of her own image. Even if she did serve as an object of appeal for others, she was appealing first and foremost to herself. She gave Berger’s “collaboration” between the painter and woman a new essence. Just like Emily Ratajkowski, who in My Body also explores the many violations she has experienced by men and takes charge of her own body.
Perhaps the male gaze, as Atwood argues, is indeed inescapable. Nevertheless, I believe it is a narrative. One that can be redefined. Rather than it being a story of speculation, it can be turned into one of celebration and ownership.
Work Cited
Berger, John. Steps Towards a Small Theory of the Visible. Penguin Books, 2020.
“John Berger, Ways of Seeing: The Naked and the Nude.” YouTube, YouTube, 17 May 2021, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LoqMd1FnEPI.
Latimer, Tirza True. Women Together, Women Apart: Portraits of Lesbian Paris. Rutgers University Press, 2005.
Otterstein, Pola. “The Most Painted Woman in the World Was Lesbian: Suzy Solidor.” DailyArt Magazine, 1 June 2022, https://www.dailyartmagazine.com/most-painted-woman-2-2/.
Ratajkowski, Emily. “Beauty Lessons.” My Body, Metropolitan Books, Henry Holt and Company, New York, NY, 2021, pp. 9–27.
Smith Galler, Sophia. “How Black Women Were Whitewashed by Art.” BBC Culture, BBC, https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20190114-how-black-women-were-whitewashed-by-art.
“‘Sight.’” Merriam-Webster, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/sight.