Review by Kremena Nikolova-Fontaine.
More than enough articles have been written about the famous French-American artist Louise Bourgeois (b.1911– d. 2010, aged 98), who boasts a prolific career of more than 75 years.
Since I reviewed two of the previous exhibitions of the National Gallery of Iceland in my last review, I consciously intended to focus on some other gallery's exhibition this month, instead of writing about Bourgeois’s “Kona/Femme”, currently on display there as part of The Reykjavík Arts Festival 2011.
Nevertheless, I didn't want to miss the chance to witness the originals of Bourgeois’s complex, metaphoric and confessional inner world last Wednesday (the free admittance day) which has fascinated me for years even though I’ve only contemplated on reproductions.
My fear was that her work could turn out to be an over-stated utter nonsense in reality, as is sometimes the case with what you see in books and inspires your imagination but loses its magic once you see the originals.
That was not the case with this exhibition and I felt compelled to share my experience of it.
“Kona/Femme” occupies three of the four halls at the National Gallery of Iceland, but it is not a retrospective—these are relatively recent works but demonstrate the mastership of an established professional. There is one piece, “Cell (Black Days)” (2006), which has never been exhibited before.
I started my visit in Room 2 (to the left of the entrance behind the reception desk) where you will see totemic sculptures reminiscent of African art which are suggestive of female and male sexuality, plus some quite expressive color drawings in naïve style of female genitalia.
The works were a light starter which failed to warm me up for the surprise main course in Room 1 (opposite of Room 2): two samples of Bourgeois’s famous cell installations, plus other drawings and smaller works.
“Cell (Black Days)” (2006) stole the spotlight with its refined symbolism. Some of the artist's personal clothing—a favorite element in Bourgeois's installations—is protected behind a wall of iron net which both stimulates voyeurism and irks the inability to touch.
It provokes the raw impulses I recall from the movie Fight Club, even though the composition inside is tranquil in quite a disquieting way. A powerful work— my appetite for more increased.
On the upper floor in Room 4 (to the right of the staircase), I was stunned by the divine breathtaking dessert of Bourgeois's giant spider sculpture.
My eyes couldn't get enough of caressing the elegantly-crafted disjointed legs of the creature and admiring the slightest effortless details from all angles.
The eggs in the belly of the mother-spider provoked an orgasmic spasm of delight. The sight of it is so mesmerizing that you don't want to ever go away or at least carry it with you in your pocket if you could.
The paradox is that spiders are not known to be pretty creatures, but Bourgeois once created a magnetic portrait of her mother as a spider—the original design from 1999 is tellingly entitled "Maman" ("Mommy" in French). A quote by Bourgeois inher Wikipedia profile explains the concept:
"The Spider is an ode to my mother. She was my best friend. Like a spider, my mother was a weaver. My family was in the business of tapestry restoration, and my mother was in charge of the workshop. Like spiders, my mother was very clever. Spiders are friendly presences that eat mosquitoes. We know that mosquitoes spread diseases and are therefore unwanted. So, spiders are helpful and protective, just like my mother."
It is not surprising that the spider sculptures brought Bourgeois the greatest public attention of her career. The spider in “Kona/Femme” made it clear as a day to me that this would have to be the review of the month.
Personally, I'd name Bourgeois as one of the artists who had the biggest impact on my impressionable aesthetic taste while I was still an art student.
I remember that at first, her disturbing work appeared to be an over-loaded gloomy surrealistic kitsch—but only at a superficial glance.
At a closer inspection, the overwhelming sincerity of regressed trauma in her work was something I could hardly ever forget with its vivid multi-layers of unpretty sexuality: it keeps haunting you like a recurrent nightmare.
It's a well-known fact that the inspiration behind Bourgeois's art is family dysfunction fuelled by the arrogance of her cheating father who took her English governess who lived under the same roof as his family for ten years as a mistress.
Apparently, the arrangement was not secretive enough, as one evening as a little girl Bourgeois made a voodoo bread figure of her Dad and ate it.
Perhaps it is a lesser known fact that Bourgeois's mother Joséphine fancied feminism and named her daughter afterLouise Michel, a renowned feminist leader from the infancy period of the French women liberation movement.
That makes me sympathize even more with Joséphine Bourgeois. This woman must have endured conflicting feelings for a decade—I doubt this submissive arrangement was of her taste.
The straightforward theme and the title of the exhibition “Kona/Femme” (“Woman”) made me ruminate on the fate of women as partners in relationships versus independent individuals. From today's point of view, it would be unfair to make a judgment on why “Maman” stayed in a dysfunctional union.
Many people consider the institution of matrimony outdated. No matter how advanced and open-minded our society has become today, the problems of balancing family life and cheating spouses have not evolved much throughout the centuries.
Betrayal doesn't cease to hurt emotionally, regardless of whether it occurs in marriage, cohabitation or a friendship—the principle of trust and loyalty is the same. We all need to feel loved and respected.
Many unhappy couples choose to swallow their misery for years by making excuses for fear of the unknown. The most common justifications are: for the sake of the kids or because of financial reasons.
Bourgeois's spooky art is a clear evidence of how damaging staying in a bad relationship can prove for the psyche of a young child.
I was curious to find out whether Bourgeois continued the family tradition of dysfunction in her private life, but it turned out that she was married for 35 years to American scholar Robert Goldwater, before she became a widow, and raised three sons, parallel to her career.
Despite Bourgeois's unhappy childhood, she believed in the old-fashioned institution of matrimony and had been an activist on behalf of LGBT equality and supported the nonprofit organizationFreedom to Marry:
“Everyone should have the right to marry. To make a commitment to love someone forever is a beautiful thing.”
