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SIGMUND FREUD posited that girls, at about the age of 4, fall victim to penis envy; they notice that they lack the “superior” counterpart to the clitoris, and they want to have it. Freud's theory stirred up considerable controversy, especially among early feminists, who eschewed the notion that women ever felt “deficient” in the genital area.
In this century, young feminists are embracing many of the roles, symbols and signifiers their foremothers denounced, ostensibly reclaiming and redefining them on their own terms. I Heart Dick , curated by Boston artist Victoria Semarjian, is an exhibition of art by, Semarjian says, “strong women who love men” — and, presumably, dick.
While I Heart Dick includes many stellar works by some of the country's hottest budding artists, the overarching theme falls short, making one wonder whether the title was more a marketing ploy than an exhibition thesis. Maria Castro's work fits most neatly into the theme, as her sculptural game pieces, like My Name is Ken , play with the euphemisms men use to describe their penises (“hot rod,” “*****,” “the big cigar”). This interactive work allows viewers to interchange phallic game pieces over Ken's crotch. Castro's work is well-crafted and humorous, with an aesthetic that is carnival-kitsch-meets-1950s ad imagery.
Other works are the antithesis of the show's theme. A painting by Shaunna Peterson titled Get Your Kicks portrays a stereotypically beautiful, busty brunette stripper, with dollar bills clasped between her breasts, dancing above a sea of men. Peterson's penchant for the MAD Magazine style is apparent; the stripper's “admirers” are raucously grotesque, and the dancer's features and expressions are exaggerated.
Semarjian included the painting in the exhibition because of the subject matter. “Women have more power and choices,” she says. “This work shows a woman who is in control — she's taking men's money, they can't touch her, and she doesn't have to talk to them.” But the content of Peterson's work fails to address broader issues. It's one thing to recognize power in a young, white, suburban woman's decision to work as a stripper to pay for med school, but if we envision Peterson's subject as a poor, homeless woman, or a victim of childhood sexual abuse, the power of the scenario is diminished.
Jennifer Reeder's work more directly confronts notions of power and class. Her film, the pilot in a series, features the exploits of superhero White Trash Girl. The superhero was born of Cherry and her sexually abusive uncle, Bruce. After years of being fondled and raped by Bruce, Cherry becomes pregnant, gives birth, and flushes the baby to the depths of the city sewer. Instead of succumbing to the filth, the baby girl becomes tremendously strong and resilient. She is eventually rescued and raised by an old woman who names her Angel. As Angel matures, she recruits a slew of seedy sidekicks and takes on the evils of the society that spawned her. The film has an intentionally amateurish look and feel, which works to underscore the downtrodden characters and their dismal, poverty-ridden environment. And the narrative — a thrown-away female rises to become a superhero and conquer the oppressors — is hopeful, even inspiring.
The exhibit also includes works by Martha Rich and Keren Richter, frequent contributors to the publications Bust and *****: Feminist Response to Pop Culture. Rich's characters are similar to Peterson's in style; they are creepy and kooky, often rendered on patterned, wallpaper-like surfaces. Richter's decorative silkscreens, printed on canvas, are like 1970s greeting-card characters gone Goth, a sensibility that may derive from her work as an illustrator for record labels.
Desiree Astorga's dazzling photographs of professional skateboarders stand out as some of the best work in the show. As the only female photographer on the staff of a U.S. skateboarding magazine, Astorga has penetrated a male-dominated sport, and captured the personalities and skills of the athletes.
I Heart Dick
is a show worth seeing, though its theme could have been more focused,
and a different title might have better reflected the strength and accomplishments
of the women artists, rather than venerating the male member.