Reflections on Gender and Paint in Dorothy Mead’s Transvestite by Abigail Ashford by Theresa Kneppers

Dorothy Mead, Transvestite

Dorothy Mead, Transvestite

Jenny Saville, Passage, 2004

Jenny Saville, Passage, 2004

Tate Britain’s 2018 ‘All Too Human’ exhibition, which surveys British life painting from the early 20th century to the present, brings together two unlikely female artists. Dorothy Mead and Jenny Saville, despite their stylistic disparities, together represent a minority viewpoint within a genre that has traditionally been the stronghold of men, particularly when approaching the female nude. The male gaze has delineated and defined women’s bodies throughout art history, but this process is disrupted and reimagined by the entrance of social outsiders into the art form. Judging by the work selected for the exhibition, the male artist’s struggle for enlightenment will continue to eclipse the contributions made by women to visual culture. Rather than dwell on Tate’s selection of works here, I will turn to two other paintings executed by these women that bring their practice into dialogue, involving them in a counter-discourse about the human form in art.


In Dorothy Mead’s oil painting titled Transvestite, a pale figure stands luminescent against a wash of deep blue and red, posed in the heroic silhouette of a classical sculpture. Despite their stance, the marbled subject is a site of ambiguity, where the rounded fullness of the foreground leg and the distortion that blurs the body coexist within the same figure. What is flesh and what is fabric? Is the human form cloaked in crisscrossing layers of paint, or subtly revealed in the overlapping tones? Limbs are unhinged by the hint of drapery which falls from the figure’s shoulder, and fixed-point perspective becomes precarious as shadows and tones appear anchored to their own flatness rather than the curvature of the body. Leaning back slightly, the model in the painting exudes a gentle ease. The limbs lack the rigid fixity of those in Saville’s Passage (2004), instead of resting softly and naturally in place like the folds of a curtain. Contrasting with the resultant ethereality of Mead’s figure, which might be swept up and away in the flow of a brushstroke, the effect of Saville’s painting feels more akin to looking into an airless vacuum, or a closely controlled laboratory interior.


Saville’s giant figure is posed dramatically, their genitalia pushed towards the viewer and their legs spread to extend out beyond the picture plane. Arms and legs are amputated by the composition, funnelling the eye towards the torso which dominates the central third of the painting. Unlike in Mead’s work, the model’s transsexuality, rather than being announced by the painting’s title, is distinct and overt. The title is suggestive of movement, transition, and change, or alternatively might infer a narrowness and hardship which one must move through to reach a certain destination. While Saville’s enigmatic title demands metaphorical investigation beyond the subject’s physical presence, the very surface of Mead’s painting invites an interrogation of every out of focus brushstroke. 


Despite a common preference for using broad, rectangular strokes to carve out their sitters’ bodies, the two artists construct the flesh of their subjects markedly differently. In the tradition of Euan Uglow, Saville’s approach is intently and intensely measured. A mathematical precision governs the distribution of brushstrokes which themselves hold a digital clarity, owing perhaps to the artist having worked from a series of photographs rather than directly from a model. Dorothy Mead would have instead worked from life, following the standard set by David Bomberg’s classes at The Borough Polytechnic which ran from the 1940s into the 1950s. Bomberg encouraged students to renounce the traditional, formulaic techniques of painting from life in favour of a more spirited engagement with the physical subject before them, a message Mead absorbed and adapted throughout her oeuvre. Bomberg also prioritised engagement with the flow of natural forms, departing from the graphic, angular style he had employed earlier in the 20th century to depict war and its machinery. Many of Mead’s paintings, such as her Reclining Nude in acrylic (c.1950), possess an earth-like quality, their bodies resembling sun-kissed hills receding into the distance, becoming interchangeable with rolling landscapes in both colour and composition. The women in her paintings are multi-layered, imposing and potentially hostile landscapes rather than simply objects of desire. For Transvestite, Mead erected the figure at the centre of the canvas, standing boldly against their nondescript environment, a bright landmark pushing forwards instead of receding backwards. The figure derives its strength from this high contrast, both within its immediate environment and in relation to Mead’s other life paintings. 


However, this is not to say that a geometrically astute style of painting cannot render an expressive and multidimensional subject. The precision of a measured, scientific observation and documentation is arguably sensitive to the contemporary treatment of the transsexual body. Access to medical intervention to reconcile body with mind via Sex Reassignment Surgery, breast augmentation and Hormone Therapy only arose in the latter half of the 20th century and were not accessible at the time Mead was painting. In conjunction, the two paintings chart the Trans body coming into focus as a visible and rational subject within modern society. 


The ‘passage’ Saville refers to lies between and connects visual markers of biological sex, from the penis up towards the figure’s made-up face and silicone breasts. In an interview with Simon Schama Saville described her desire to create a “contemporary architecture of the body” and “a sort of gender landscape” which would not have been possible 30 or 40 years ago. Following her rational construction, the viewer traverses the transvestite’s newly realised body in a logical manner which functions to normalise the transsexual subject. This technique empowers the sitter with whom Saville worked, as the viewer is forced to follow the direction dictated by their enormous painted body. Marks are used by Saville to channel the gaze across the body and in doing so she knits together disparate elements on the large canvas. The longer one looks at the figure’s body, the more it makes sense as a cohesive whole.


The sheer scale of Passage communicates an ideal of larger than life pride in transsexual physical identity which is much more self-evident than the murkier display of form in Mead’s painting. However, the transvestite is described by Mead in terms of their shifting presence within the space, rather than through physiological features, arguably a representation more aligned with modern attitudes towards the mutable nature of sex and gender. While Saville’s work centres visually on a brave display of biological sex through a theatrical confrontation, Mead’s rendering is more concerned with the porous boundary between interior and exterior as expressed through the uncertain physical condition of the transvestite at the time she was painting. Paint is used in different ways by the artists to empathise with the physiological and psychological experience of transsexuality, foregrounding its presence in contexts which continue to obscure and ostracize the Trans subject themselves. Both paintings relate to the burgeoning discourse around gender identity that has evolved over the past few decades by introducing the transsexual anatomy into a common language of the human body, and at the same time questioning the inviolability of the life painting tradition.  
 

An archive of direction by Theresa Kneppers

This is an archive of direction. Or more specifically an archive of the directional marks in the Borough Road collection. 

Anybody who has painted knows of the breathless moment when the brush meets the surface.

Cut out, assembled and arranged according to direction, the process of categorising and re-archiving the lines gives a new room for these painterly moments to exist. 

Collectivised and cut from any pictorial context but their own presence, the lines still seems to me to be powerful memories of the artists at work; their commitment, decisions and physical presence. 

Archive of Direction by Johanna Bolton

Archive of Direction by Johanna Bolton

Detail of an Archive of Direction by Johanna Bolton

Detail of an Archive of Direction by Johanna Bolton

Johanna Bolton: Research Image of an Archive by Theresa Kneppers

Over the weeks, I have been looking at the works in the collection in their context of an archive. I have found these communal themes or qualities that could be used as categories to arrange them by:

Lines - direction
Marks: lines - dashes - dots
Marks: patches - blotches -dots
Structure - angles - rounds
Surface: texture - thickness - energy or crunchiness
Grids
Colour: greys, yellow-pink, red-orange, blues
Motif: bodies, city-scapes, portraits, vases etc...
Narrative: teaching, trauma, time, instruction, intention, choice
Reaction: breathing, movement

From the research: A list of motives, and how often they occur

Johanna Bolton Artist Residency 3.jpg

Johanna Bolton: An archive of made decisions by Theresa Kneppers

Contemporary artist Johanna Bolton is currently doing a residency at the Borough Road Gallery art store. You can follow her as she researches and develops a project for the gallery this fall. 

Bomberg wrote that ‘the virility of drawing lies in the immediate necessity to make decisions- with it departs the fears and the funk...’ 

I think this quality is very much evident in the decisive fast impasto lines in the art of the Borough Group.

Bomberg also wrote “I approach drawing solely for structure” - I will try the same but from the other side, as a sculptor looking for the instruction for structure in the drawings. 

This week I am buying armature wire and working at drawing out those structural lines into 3-dimensions again. 

Johanna Bolton Artist Residency at Borough Road

Johanna Bolton: An archive of breathing by Theresa Kneppers

Contemporary artist Johanna Bolton is currently doing a residency at the Borough Road Gallery archive and art store. This is her third week exploring the collection and related materials.

This week I look and draw and breath structure.

Collector Sarah Rose described her interest in the act of viewing and how it affects the viewer’s body, and breathing. (It is interesting to note that she worked as a singing teacher).

A poetic connection is drawn between the record of movement encoded in the painting’s structure and the physical reaction it evokes, the viewer’s breathing.

An element or category for this collection is therefore BREATHING.

Johanna Bolton Artist Residency.jpg

Johanna Bolton: Traces of Trauma (Art in the shadow of two World Wars) by Theresa Kneppers

Contemporary artist Johanna Bolton is currently doing a residency at the Borough Road Gallery archive and art store. This is her second blog exploring the collection and working with the LSBU archives.

Last Friday, archivist Ruth MacLeod showed me the records from the Arts Department of Borough Polytechnic (as London South Bank University was then known) at the time David Bomberg was teaching (1946-53). There was little mentioned about him specifically, but some records that help get a feeling for life in the art department at the time.

As a Polytechnic the department’s focus was on commercial art, creating a freedom from the traditions followed in the Fine Arts departments elsewhere. Bomberg taught a few daytime life drawing classes, but mainly evening classes in life drawing, painting and composition. Records show a large uptake of art evening classes, and one year there was a course tantalizingly named ‘Drawing and painting from memory and knowledge’. There is a line in the student magazine about the people who come in the evening and ‘splash more paint on the walls than on the canvases’, and an entertaining article about the humiliation of being corrected by an unnamed life drawing teacher (there were two life drawing teachers at the time, one of them Bomberg): “...try to remember he is an Aesthete and therefore cannot be expected to know any better.”

But what the visit to the archive really brought home more than anything was how recent this was after WW2, the second war that Bomberg had lived through. His suffering in the trenches of the Great War had affected his practice dramatically, from radical abstractions in the style of Futurism and Vorticism to a more figurative, expressionistic style. 

Of course WW2 also had a major impact on the art works of all the artists in the Borough Road group. 

The archive did have a large folder with records on Bomberg’s contemporary teacher collegue Mr Thomas Liverton. In a hand written note from 20th October 1945 he writes that he has been discharged from the RAF, and was much looking forward to returning to Borough Polytechnic in November, but felt ‘rather in need of a rest.’ It is strange to think how quietly that generation went through their traumatic experiences.

Traces of Trauma? Works by David Bomberg from before, between and after the two world wars, in the Borough Road collection archive. (There is only one work from before the Great War in the collection).

David Bomberg, 1913-14. Before WW1

David Bomberg, 1913-14. Before WW1

David Bomberg, 1925. Interwar period

David Bomberg, 1925. Interwar period

David Bomberg, 1956. After WW2

David Bomberg, 1956. After WW2