Sculptor Louise Bourgeois, an amazing, iconoclastic artist died on May 30, 2010. As the New York Times obitiuary states “the French-born American artist who gained fame only late in a long career, when her psychologically charged abstract sculptures, drawings and prints had a galvanizing effect on younger artists, particularly women.” Artist Richard Wentworth, of the Royal College of Art, relates that:
“She connected the intensely private act of being an artist with the intensely public act of developing a worldwide audience. To have worked constantly for so long and so publicly – is in a field of its own. There are very few female artists who make it to later life and it’s very tough to be a woman artist or sculptor.” Conceptual artist Jenny Holzer said she “orbited Bourgeois” and that “my artist friends and I are crying today”. French President Nicolas Sarkozy also paid tribute to Bourgeois, calling her “a very great artist” who “never stopped creating and renewing herself in her art”. (BBC)
In his column GompArts, Will Gomertz of the BBC, adds some thoughts on Bourgeois and her legacy and links to an insightful article he wrote for the Guardian in 2008 on first encountering her work. Gompertz wrote about how, ”the rage, fear and frustration in Louise Bourgeois’ autobiographical art shocked me into understanding what it must be like to be a woman.”
All the Femme Maison (literally house woman/housewife) paintings share the same idea. In each one, a woman has a house covering her head, below which her naked body protrudes. She thinks she is safe and secure in her domestic prison, because that is all she can see around her. She has no idea that she is flashing her genitals to all and sundry, more vulnerable than ever. It’s the stuff of nightmares where you are publicly exposed and shamed. These paintings succinctly sum up the struggle of every woman and their destiny to live with the responsibilities and constrictions of trying to maintain the balance of wife, mother and housekeeper while trying to retain a semblance of individuality in such sapping domestic circumstances. The simplicity of the paintings adds to the sense of entrapment; there wasn’t the time for anything more studied or crafted. Guardian
