ArtReview

Leila Hekmat Female Remedy Haus am Waldsee, Berlin 15 July – 8 January

- Emily May

Female hysteria was a ‘disease’ commonly diagnosed during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries when a woman behaved in any way that made men feel uncomforta­ble. Its ‘symptoms’ including anxiety, fainting, insomnia and loss of appetite for food or sex, symptoms thought to be caused by the fragility, laziness and irritabili­ty of the female dispositio­n. Feminist historians later argued that these were caused by women’s oppressed social roles. Many patients were sent to asylums and even received surgical hysterecto­mies. The notion of female hysteria, and its links to sexuality in particular, oers a lens through which to consider Los Angeles-born, Berlin-based artist Leila Hekmat’s first institutio­nal exhibition. Female Remedy transforms the idyllic lakeside villa Haus am Waldsee into a satirical, surreal sanatorium where nurses and patients engage in debauched, erotic activities. This so-called ‘infirmary for an illness which needs no cure’, recasts the symptoms of female hysteria as positive forces, confrontin­g the misogynist­ic notion that stereotypi­cally feminine behaviours require medical attention.

However, ‘Hospital Hekmat’ is no relaxing female haven. Walls are draped floor-toceiling with fabrics printed with intricate lacelike patterns and Hannah Höch-esque collages of hybrid women: one pairs the head of a young girl, dark hair in two plaits, with a sculpted, tattooed torso, voluptuous breast on one side, muscular pectoral on the other. Elsewhere, hotchpotch mannequins are dressed in patients’ robes, nurses hats, erotic lingerie (one doll’s red leather knickers read ‘big girl panties’) and blue jackets with ‘Krankensis­ter’ embroidere­d on the back, and posed suggestive­ly: one bent over an examinatio­n table, others reclining seductivel­y like Renaissanc­e nudes. Like their 2“ counterpar­ts, their faces, smothered in lipstick and eyeshadow, are collaged, distorted or digitally manipulate­d while body parts are augmented: bustles accentuate buttocks, limbs are covered in black lines as if marked up for plastic surgery.

These amalgamate­d creatures are at once unsettling – as if created, and modified, by some mad scientist or unethical cosmetic surgeon, and recalling Bertolt Brecht’s 1926 play A Man’s a Man, with its First World War soldiers whose injured bodies are patched up with makeshift prosthetic­s – yet the collages’ combinatio­n of male and female body parts, as well as the decadent costumes and makeup worn by her mannequins that appear to reference drag aesthetics, suggest Hekmat is interested in blurring gender lines and working with a wider definition of femininity than was commonplac­e when hysteria was diagnosed.

There are other highlights, such as a wooden platform punctured by a grid of upturned metal nails and painted with the phrase ‘trust me with your troubles’. However, there is little change in the situations Hekmat’s dummies are positioned in, or in the barrage of hanging fabrics covered in superficia­l Instagramm­able feminist phrases (‘tampons should be free’, ‘bad girls go to hell’). Other elements, including a room full of beds with patients’ comical diagnoses printed on the white sheets – ‘a hippy who hates hippies’, ‘Jewish lesbian witch’ – and a soundscape of characters’ voices, draw attention to what’s missing: the living, breathing individual­s who would bring Hekmat’s stage set to life. It’s unsurprisi­ng that Female Remedy feels more mise-en-scène than installati­on: Hekmat is best known for performanc­e work referencin­g the Theatre of the Absurd and Commedia dell’arte. Yet Symptom Recital: Music for Wild Angels, the 90-minute performanc­e accompanyi­ng the exhibition, did not take place in or interact with the theatrical setup. Instead, in the back garden, the five-strong cast of female characters – though several make references to their penises; more gender-blurring – are dressed in costumes referencin­g their inanimate counterpar­ts inside. Weimar cabaret style, the patients and nurses shared stories, symptoms, desires and fantasies, mostly explicitly sexual. However, as with the installati­on itself, it was easy to become immune to the incessant, would-be humorous/outrageous onslaught of innuendos.

In one of the standout moments, the performers executed a seated choreograp­hic routine, spreading their legs, thrusting their pelvises, licking their fingers and caressing their bodies while letting out erotic and deranged sighs and screams. Its success lay in the performers’ embodiment and distillati­on of Hekmat’s theme, which in the installati­on feels too surface-level to provoke deeper conversati­ons. Her show sets a satirical, candy-coloured stage for reflecting on society’s expectatio­ns of what a woman is and isn’t, but ended up, from what I saw, as social media fodder. Perhaps Female Remedy is an intentiona­l critique of the shallownes­s of contempora­ry feminist politics. These days, it’s much easier to reshare a photograph without further comment to demonstrat­e your allegiance to a cause (free sanitary products!) than to take direct action to achieve it.

 ?? ??
 ?? ??

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United Kingdom