In 1977 I fell in love with an artist. Can you imagine? It sounds like a lyric and it was a very emotional, romantic and complex song. The little apartment over the bookstore was filled with acrylics and oils and canvases and books and posters. Her favorite painting, in all the world, was Vermeer's Girl in the Red Hat. 
There were reproductions of it in every room, even the laundry room.
When we visited the National Gallery and she saw it in person for the first time, she fell to her knees and wept. The guard stepped back to stand with me and quietly asked, "Is she an artist?" I could only nod. The guard held everyone away for many, many minutes while Maria took it all in. I suppose at that moment, I fell in love with the power of art. As I have written about several times, I wander museums looking for art by women. It is the opening of my lectures on women's rights. It is the question on my mind in the Louvre, the National Gallery, the Getty, every museum.
My heart exploded when I first discovered the Guerrilla Girls; their books, their masks, their mission. Seeing them at the National Museum of Women in the Arts last week was an unexpected bonanza of feminism, human rights and the arts. Their presentation included slides, facts, figures, and conversation. Frida is in a wheelchair and Kathe is having fun with a cigar. 
During the Q&A, a person asked how they felt about "being here." Kathe was very insightful to immediately understand that the question was about the nature of a women's museum. Most likely being asked many times over the years, they both knew the facets of the question. And, to their great credit, they answered in depth while pointing out that they do not agree. Frida believes that it is important to have a museum of women's art. It is a undeniable testament to women in the arts. Kathe said that she did not see it that way. Why should women's art be segregated and, thus, the museum offer a conciliatory gesture that women have their own museum? While women may be 16% of Congress, women's art in museums is just a sliver of that percentage.
The entire conversation reminded me of a terrible choice Maria and I tackled in our bookstore thirty years ago ~ do we integrate all of the literature (Virginia and Thomas side by side) or do we make one of the two rooms of the store - Women's Work. Upstairs, with rare exception (Vermeer and Dali) it was all and only women's work. It was how I met Kahlo, Fini, Chicago, Flack, Krasner, Gentileschi. We listened to Nyro, MacCrae, Morgana King, Anita O'Day, Alice Coltrane, Holiday. But what would the fallout be in this ultra conservative neighborhood of Newport Beach, California? 
Maria was a Gemini and my moon is in Gemini, and finally we made the decision to segregate the work but could argue each side with equal commitment. And so Kathe and Frida, my Guerrilla Girl friends, I get. I really get it.
I enjoyed reading your commentary, especially since I just did a blog entry about the guerrilla girls inspired by a discussion on art new blogs about MoMa. I will be making a new found art piece that relates to forgotten women artists next week for found art tuesday. How wonderful you actually got to see the Guerrilla Girls :)
Posted by: jafabrit | November 21, 2007 at 08:58 AM