Good morning Monday...It's nice to see you. You're chillier than usual, but sunny, which allows me to forgive you. I hope this Monday am finds you well- I'm freelancing here in th city and people on the train on a Monday morning are positively dour.
So yesterday was one of those classic New York days- languid long morning, diner breakfast, watching about a million Europeans lazing around Central Park, strolling on upper Madison, and then off to the MOMA for the Cindy Sherman show. For those of you (all five of you) unfamiliar with her work, Cindy's schtick is photography, all self portraits of her in various constumes, visages, and personalities. The show was a tremendous effort of a retrospective, and did not disappoint. If you are freaked by clowns, tread lightly. Ms. Sherman likes to dress like one, and then photograph it, and let me tell you, it's fairly creeptastic.
Besides the scary clowns and strange vagina shots (yes there are those), the rest of the show is an empowering glimpse into the life of an aritst who explores what it means to be a woman- the shot above is an early favorite of mine- just love this image ,and have clearly been holding a martini in a slip dress with some sunglasses on in my time. What I adore about her work besides the painterly portrait quality of her lighting and photography is within each tableau is a glimpse of the mahy parts of a woman's personality- we are all socialites, Palm Beach grandmoms, Hitchcockian heroines, and Raphaelite Venuses. I think what's fascinating to me is the work of hers that I crush on the hardest is usually those that I can relate to as a woman- the Longo looking bleached blonde in the black men's suit, face covered by a hair mop, or the photos contained in her earlier work that feel a bit vixenish, kittenish, and altogether sexy. Andt that to me is the most compelling part of her oeuvre- her work is a powerful testament to our freedom as women to be whoever the hell we want, regardless of cretans like Rush Limbaugh who assign their own stupid labels to who we are. Yes, Cindy tends to show us the weirder aspects of being a woman (bad makeup, hair, etc.) but she also exposes the great joy and sometimes rebellion there is in dressing up- literally and figuratively. Sherman is also no stranger to exposing the common stereotypes of women as portrayed in the media and society and by trolls like Rush Limbaugh- it's her depiction of them that makes us take pause and try to somehow go deeper than the picture itself. I also am fascinated by the removal of self that almost all of her photographs depict- even though they are all of her.
But back to staging and dressing up and creating a character, I suppose this is why I always loved fashion, and consequently why the fashion crowd loves them some Cindy Sherman. Designers like Rei Kawakubo, who also turns what it means to dress like a woman on its arse, have collaborated with her and show proof that art and fashion are a potent mix. There is great power in constructing your appearance- and though when I say playing dress up I am not in any way picturing a tutu and a tiara, I am instead noting that fantastic moment in your closet when you decide that Monday morning calls for a bit of the Russian spy mixed in with Sophia Loren and then mashed up by a Southhampton hostess. Needless to say, I just made that up, but you catch my drift.
I was all about posting something very militant today about my feelings on how the right is really way wrong when it comes to the modern woman. There's no need to do that because it's simply obvious, and even giving it too much credence somehow increases its message. Instead I'm going to suggest you go see the Cindy Sherman show- it's a force of self expression and nuance and over the top all at once. Needless to say, it's a must see. Oh, and hey ladies. Give yourself a chance to celebrate who you are today, don't cave to stereotypes today, and be who you are, whoever that may be. Maybe you've already gotten dressed for the day, but if not, take this opportunity to wear what you want, in the hopes of being who you are. Cause that's what's up this masquerade of a Monday in good old New York City, baby. All the love. XO