 |
|
|
 |
Deborah Cherry
Beyond the Frame: Feminism and Visual Culture, Britain, 1850–1900
London and New York: Routledge, 2000
252 pp.; 61 b/w ills.; $67.50 (hardcover), $20.99 (paperback)
ISBN 0415107261 (hardcover); 041510727X (paper)
|
 |
| |
|
|
| |
|
Deborah Cherry's volume embraces provocative subjects for the scholar
and student of feminist visual culture. It is one of several recent
texts to challenge the Franco-centrism of modernism, and to acknowledge,
document, and celebrate the role of the visual in modern Britain.1
Cherry's focusing metaphor consists of looking "beyond the
frame" of normative reference for art history, feminist, and
cultural studies. Referring to Derrida's "reflections on framing
as a field of force," she notes that he draws "attention
to a violent closure which subjects the work of art and its meanings
to the pressures of restraint and regulation" (p. 5). With
this organizing principle in mind, Cherry opens and closes her study
with arguments for important feminist markers, specifically ephemera
such as suffragette banners that helped make visible militant women
who strove beyond such "restraint and regulation." She
explores "painting alongside sculpture, graphic and decorative
art, photographs and reprographic prints, illustrated magazines
and the pageantry of demonstration" (p. 1) to achieve her goals
of acknowledging the visible intersection of women, art, and politics
in an urban/imperial environment.
|
|
| |
|
|
|
| |
|
Chapter
one, "Artists and Militants, 1850–66," invites us
to move beyond our current understanding of how women artists lived
and worked in London at mid century. It provides a broad framework
for the activities of these women in the modern city, not only as
professional working women, but also as networkers and voices for
the women's movement. In this respect, she applies a Foucaultian theoretical
agenda of "the tactics of the habitat," which acts as a
power base for women who coincidentally were artists and activists
(p. 24). She helps, as have other new studies, to break down current
constructions of femininity in relation to women's mobility during
the Victorian period.2 Representations of women are impossible
to interpret without an understanding of the shifting political scene.
Cherry argues convincingly that feminism itself "provided frames
for viewing and interpreting"(p. 2). For instance, in discussing
the 1859 petition to the Royal Academy to admit female students, she
speaks of the imposition of the doorframe as a synecdoche of opportunity;
it at once prevents a woman from entering, but it is the only means
available to gain important career advances. Her concept of always
pushing "beyond the frame" is literally embodied in a drawing
from the International Art Notes journal, entitled, "The
door to success is always labeled PUSH" of 1900 (British
Library, London; fig. 1.1). Appropriately chosen as the opening illustration
for the book, it depicts two women dressed in suffragette garblong
skirts and long, tailored jacketsadvancing through a door, artistic
portfolios tucked under their arms. |
|
| |
|
|
|
| |
|
Cherry makes us look anew at the streets
of London, in particular, Gower Street, which included such noteworthy
landmarks of feminist debate as the house of Millicent Garrett Fawcett,
the studios of Rebecca Solomon and Emily Mary Osborn, or nearby Bedford
Square, home of Bedford College for Women. In one sense, in one frame,
we can move beyond our image of the angel in the house. Cherry, like
Lynda Nead, pushes through the barriersthat is, the accepted
constructionsof women's traditional spheres of influence to
demonstrate their mobility and physicality in the city. In another
sense, however, as Griselda Pollock has shown, the dialogue of modernity
took place in the domestic arena as much as it did in the streets.3 |
|
| |
|
|
|
| |
|
The next two chapters, which focus
on issues of race, gender, and imperialism in Algeria, reveal the
troubling truth that only middle-class women were involved in both
the feminist and imperial projects. In chapter two, "In/Between
the Colonial Theatre: Visuality, Visibility, and Modernity,"
and chapter three, "The 'Worlding' of Algeria," Cherry frankly
addresses her own ambivalence about these feminists who "shuttle"
back and forth between London and Algeria (p. 62). She explores the
role of the female militant in the "colonial theatre"an
inquiry that again moves these women physically and figuratively beyond
their standard frames of reference but at the same time does not,
for, in exploring the militant response to the plight of "native
women," these women in fact speak with an "imperial voice"
(pp. 70–71). Cherry recognizes the hubris in their cause: "Slipping
in/between registers of meaning, destabilizing and displacing those
already in play, sisterhood offered an understanding of race relations
founded less on equality and more on moral authority" (p. 72).
Such destabilization/reinforcement (the "in/between" of
her title, again suggesting a framing device) also exists in Barbara
Leigh Smith Bodichon's landscape paintings of Algeria. The artist
cannot escape the accepted Claudian "framing" of the pictorial
landscape, even in exploring the "other" (p. 98) in such
works as Roman Aqueduct near Cherchel, Ancient Julia Caesarea
of the 1860s (fig. 3.8). |
|
| |
|
|
|
| |
|
Chapter four, "Harriet Hosmer's
Zenobia: A Question of Authority," exemplifies the methodological
assertion by many interdisciplinary scholars that a work of art creates
its own dialogue and multiple meanings even after it leaves the artist's
hands. As Cherry explains, "Recent feminist analysis has emphasized
that authority does not reside in the person but that it is conferred
by social and political structures and authorised by discursive fields"
(p. 102). This is especially true of Hosmer's Zenobia once
it was exhibited at the 1862 London International Exhibition. Cherry
discusses the issues of race, gender, and class that surrounded its
appearance. Hosmer's sculpture broke every norm of neoclassical sculpture:
it was made by a woman, it represented a woman of color in white marble
(!), it was a visible marker of a queen on display for public consumption
when England's own queen had vanished into mourning, and it represented
a queen in chains. This last feature allows Cherry to extend her analysis
beyond the immediate moment in London, to debates over the Civil War
in America and slavery. She concludes, "Zenobia negotiated
the sexual politics of vision, images of slavery, criminality and
street women, the invisibility of Queen Victoria, a crisis in the
British monarchy, women's rights, and women's art" (p. 141). |
|
| |
|
|
|
| |
|
Chapter five provides the closing
parenthesis, complementing chapter one as it explores the "Tactics
and Allegories" of feminism between 1866 and 1900. Here the author
focuses on the tensions between the female artist's political stance
on women's rights and her individual professional success. Cherry
discusses how, toward the end of the century, the modern city no longer
offered a productive space for artistic feminist agendas. At this
time, portraits by women of important female figures became increasingly
important, as they negotiated a man's world through new professional
guises. This investigation circles back to Cherry's observations in
chapter one where she considers the ambivalent nature of feminist
art criticism. Writing for periodicals like The Englishwoman's
Journal were women who fought, from 1850 on, for better artistic
training and education for women so that their art could compete with
that of their male counterparts. As Cherry explains, "The double
bind was that if there was 'no sex in art,' there was sexual difference
in society. Arguing that women's art should attain and be assessed
by generally accepted critical standards and not be assigned to a
separate category, feminist writers nevertheless realized that women
artists faced considerable inequality" (p. 51). Cherry argues
that articles on women's biographies succeeded more so than the criticism,
since these were able to encode "hard work, financial independence
and professional success...as feminine and feminist" (p. 55).
In this final chapter, Cherry leaves the discussion of portraits open-ended,
partly because the women themselves were in a transitional state.
As the author states, "Without democratic rights, nineteenth-century
women were engaged in... bitter struggles ...fought out at the level
of visual culture as well as in political and social arenas,"
which leaves the portraits, at best, as "hybrids"(p. 188).
Her scholarship itself does not offer us easy, box-like frames, but
pushes the boundaries of interpretation. |
|
| |
|
|
|
| |
|
Frames are limiting, but they invite
challenge and provoke questioning. In this regard, Cherry fittingly
ends with a discussion of the allegorical applications of the suffragist
banner. She argues, "It was outside the institutions of culture
and scholarship that women's art was at its most declamatory. Beyond
the frame of high culture and on the streets of major cities, performative
spectacle embodied women's demands for political representation"
(p. 212). |
|
| |
|
|
|
| |
|
In her book, Deborah Cherry embraces
new approaches to art history through dialogues about space, imperialism,
the politics of geography, mapping, and movement. Lynda Nead's recent
observation applies to Cherry's achievement: "The best historians
of nineteenth-century art have drawn (broadly, but discriminatingly)
on diverse areas of the humanities and social sciences in order to
produce rich and nuanced analyses of the cultural production and consumption
of the period."4 |
|
| |
|
|
|
| |
|
Colleen Denney
Associate Professor of Art History, Art Department
Adjunct in Women's Studies, American Studies, and African American
Studies
University of Wyoming, Laramie |
|
| |
|
|
|
| |
|
1. See, for example, Lynda Nead, Victorian Babylon: People,
Streets, and Images in Nineteenth-Century London (New Haven:
Yale University Press, 2000); and David Peters Corbett and Lara
Perry, eds., English Art 1860–1914: Modern Artists and
Identity (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2000).
2. See, for example, Lynn Walker, in "Vistas of Pleasure:
Women Consumers of Urban Space in the West End of London 1850–1900,"
in Clarissa Campbell Orr, ed., Women in the Victorian Art World
(Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1995), pp. 70–85,
whose mapping of women in London Cherry draws upon. For a provocative
discussion of the flâneur/flâneuse question,
see Erika Rappaport, Shopping for Pleasure: Women in the Making
of London’s West End (Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 2001).
3. On these debates about women’s ability to move in and
through urban spaces, see Janet Wolff, "The Invisible Flâneuse:
Women and the Literature of Modernity," in Feminine Sentences:
Essays on Women and Culture (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University
of California Press, 1990), pp. 34–50; Griselda Pollock, "Modernity
and the Spaces of Femininity," in Vision and Difference:
Femininity, Feminism and Histories of Art (London and New York:
Routledge, 1988), pp. 50–90; and Nead 2000.
4. "Whither
the Field of Nineteenth-Century Art History? Commentaries by Annette
Blaugrund, Werner Busch, Henri Dorra, Lynda Nead, and Linda Nochlin,"
Nineteenth-Century Art Worldwide 1, no. 1 (www.19thc-artworldwide.org,
Spring 2002), p. 7. Retrieved on 1 March 2002.
|
|
|
 |
|