The Guardian (USA)

‘After four hours, I was tired, thirsty and shaking’: the women taking photograph­y to extremes

- Charlotte Jansen

‘What’s great about my age,” says Hannah Starkey, “and going through the menopause, is that you leave the male gaze behind. And it’s really liberating. You can’t really sell me anything. And I’m dangerous – because I can tell you the truth!”

A piercing, perilous honesty and a fully emancipate­d female gaze are characteri­stics that rebound in Acts of Resistance: Photograph­y, Feminisms and The Art of Protest, a major show at South London Gallery, organised with the V&A. Crossing continents and generation­s, this galvanisin­g group show seeks to join up ideas about image-making and dissent, offering a visual manifesto for a fourth wave of feminism.

Belfast-born Starkey, 53, presents a trio of prismatic, large-scale “abstract portraits”. The works belong to a wider series commission­ed to commemorat­e the 25th anniversar­y of the Good Friday agreement last year. The photograph­s pay homage to a generation of dovish activists, women who were instrument­al in Northern Ireland’s peace process. The three portraits feature Anne Carr, who was part of the Good Friday agreement team; Women’s Coalition co-founder Bronagh Hinds; and activist, actor and playwright Margaretta Ruth D’Arcy – who ran a women’s pirate radio station from her kitchen in Galway in the 1980s and was jailed in 1981 for painting protest graffiti.

Starkey grew up in Belfast during the 30-year Troubles. “I saw the power of women and their bravery in speaking out,” she says, speaking from her studio in east London. “Women had the ability to cut through the shit. I wanted to remind the young generation of how powerful women can be, with an example of what women have achieved in my own country.” It couldn’t feel more topical: Starkey mentions research showing that, when women are involved in peace negotiatio­ns, they are more likely to be successful and to endure.

The portraits were made using simple props and coloured glass. “I didn’t want to traumatise anyone with a camera,” Starkey explains. After close to three decades exclusivel­y photograph­ing women, she’s aware of how critical women can be of their own image. The photograph­s were staged to make the women visible without subjecting them to scrutiny. They are also, deliberate­ly, not the bombastic representa­tions we’re used to seeing in galleries and museums. “A good image speaks to everyone,” muses Starkey, whose portraits carry a sense of collective power. “It’s about what women can achieve when they get together.”

This sentiment courses through the exhibition. There are groundbrea­king artist activists – the likes of Nan Goldin, Guerilla Girls, and Zanele Muholi, known for their advocacy of marginalis­ed communitie­s – alongside younger practition­ers, such as Laia Abril, whose work is the outcome of intensive research and interviews with women who have survived abuse and abortions; and Poulomi Basu, who collaborat­es with women living in rural communitie­s in India.

Among the younger artists in the show is Sethembile Msezane, who takes the idea of collaborat­ion a step further, with live performanc­e works. A photograph by Msezane, called Chapungu: The Day Rhodes Fell, is a celebratio­n of the day a statue of Cecil Rhodes was removed from the University of Cape Town. This is staged at the show, providing a dramatic entry point to the exhibition. In the work, a masked female figure dressed in a black leotard, with her extended arms adorned with elaborate wings, stands in a majestic pose on a plinth, rising from a crowd who lift their phones in the air to capture the moment, while in the background, a statue is lifted by a crane.

This thrilling image documents what Msezane calls an “embodiment” – a live work that took place during the removal of the statue of the former prime minister of the Cape Colony, after months of protests in 2015. Msezane, who appears in the work, embodied a Zimbabwean bird, Chapungu, which she says came to her in a recurring dream.

“The negotiatio­n between myself and the bird in my body was really hard to do,” the artist recalls, speaking by phone from Cape Town. “I was very scared – I wasn’t sure what I was doing or why I was there, or why I felt such a pressing need to do this work. But I knew it was the bird working through me, and I didn’t need to have all the answers. As I stepped on the plinth, my consciousn­ess shifted away – the person in that image is not me.”

The gruelling piece lasted just under four hours. “Coming off the plinth,” she says, “I felt very tired, very thirsty, and I was shaking.” In a second image, So Long a Letter, that also appears in Acts of Resistance, Msezane embodies a mother holding a crocheted baby, made of hair. They stand beside the African Renaissanc­e Monument in Dakar – a 171ft bronze statue that sits at the top of a hill overlookin­g the capital. The statue has sparked controvers­y since it was installed in 2010. “The big man is holding the woman and their child,” says Msezane. “But the reality in many African countries is that women are the ones who uphold society, who work and nurture. The statue doesn’t symbolise that.”

In the huge sculpture, the baby is pointing towards the west. “Are we saying the future of Africa is in the west?” says Msezane, whose narrative is very different. Her crocheted infant joins hands with the baby in the sculpture so that they instead appear to point to the ground. “The future is right here, in Africa,” she explains. “We’re the ones, as the youth, who have to create a legacy to be proud of.”

Msezane doesn’t call her work feminist: she identifies more with African knowledge systems and new animism, a spiritual practice that posits a connection between animals, plants and people. “I suppose those are the ideologies that feel more robust for me as an African woman practising and living on the continent.” However, she adds: “We don’t live in a vacuum – the issues and concerns of women are similar across the world.”

Acts of Resistance seeks to decolonise feminism and offer a more pluralisti­c idea of a female-led movement. It also shows photograph­y’s value as a powerful tool of protest – fast and free to distribute, accessible anywhere, and able to reach a global audience no matter what language they speak.

Mari Katayama began taking selfportra­its incorporat­ing handsewn objects she would make as a child. She took the photograph­s in order to share her elaborate creations on Myspace and Mixi. Katayama now finds herself ensconced once more in her small room at home in the countrysid­e in Gunma, Japan. There, she is working on her largest handsewn object to date. “I’m sometimes told that my work is a fantasy world or a stage made up of my own dream stories.” She sighs. “I’m fed up hearing this. Whenever I talk about feminism, I always think, ‘We have it – rights, equality and liberation – for sure.’ But then when I look at my life, I am always disappoint­ed that this is not the case.”

Katayama, who has prosthetic legs, worked as a singer in a jazz bar as a student. One night she was heckled by a customer who shouted: “A woman who doesn’t wear high heels is not a woman.” While high heels have been a polarising symbol for feminists – the tired oppression or empowermen­t debate – high heels for Katayama were not even a choice. So in 2011, Katayama embarked on a mission to create a pair of high heels she could perform in – and to design the prosthetic joints that would allow her to do so comfortabl­y.

In 2022, her vision was finally realised with the Italian luxury shoe designer Sergio Rossi. Two photograph­s showcase the custom-made “Mari” shoes. A film, called My Way, was recently shot at another factory – Nabtesco in Japan, where the electronic­ally controlled prosthetic knee joints are designed and made. In the film, we see Katayama strut confidentl­y down dim industrial corridors in her vibrant red, extreme high heels.

Acts of Resistance marks a turning point in the evolution of feminism: an approach that is more inclusive, less western-centric and still has plenty of fire in its belly. Joining up these forces to be reckoned with, the show is a space to observe and highlight the way women continue to be vulnerable and continue to fight. It is an opportunit­y too, Msezane reflects, “to understand where it’s going wrong, and where could it go right”.

• Acts of Resistance: Photograph­y, Feminisms and The Art of Protest is at South London Gallery, London, 8 March to 9 June

When Katayama worked as a jazz singer, a customer once shouted: ‘A woman who doesn’t wear high heels is not a woman’

 ?? ?? ‘I was very scared’ … Sethembile Msezane as a bird at the statue’s toppling; this is reenacted at South London Gallery’s Acts of Resistance show. Photograph: Courtesy of the Artist
‘I was very scared’ … Sethembile Msezane as a bird at the statue’s toppling; this is reenacted at South London Gallery’s Acts of Resistance show. Photograph: Courtesy of the Artist
 ?? ?? Peacemaker … Bronagh Hinds by Hannah Starkey. Photograph: Hannah Starkey
Peacemaker … Bronagh Hinds by Hannah Starkey. Photograph: Hannah Starkey

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United States