24 February 2020
What is my gaze? If photographs are visual evidence of my perception, or regard of the world, then I would say that my gaze is one which is fascinated by construction and storytelling. My gaze is also female, middle class, well-educated and chronically tired. While I can create images, the stories I tell through images arise from the experiences I have had. Does my XX chromosome pattern change how I see, or the nature of my work? Dare (2019) asks “…Truly what is female? And what is their perspective? Is it soft and pink and full of flowers? Or is it harsh and dark and abrasive and empowering? It seems that even within the female gaze there are dichotomies. …The female gaze has no mandatory elements.”
It’s interesting to note how many “women in photography” contests and grants have emerged recently. Why is there interest in the female gaze? I would argue that the interest in representation of the female gaze emerged only after the democratization of media: cell phone cameras, internet and all. Alessia Glaviano, editor for Vogue Italia states “Finally, you see people that are not too thin; one day someone has a pimple and who cares. Or, you know, someone with cellulite. You see all these kinds of things that before you weren’t able to see. Because before the web, if you wanted your images to be published, you had to go through the magazine…. (McKinley, 2016).” Additionally, Charlotte Jansen (2017), author of Girl on Girl: Art and Photography in the Age of the Female Gaze states “In the past, photographs of women were made by men for a capitalist economy to favor the male gaze and feed female competitiveness.”
Jansen addresses the power of the female gaze stating “…the photographs women take of women can be a tool for challenging perceptions in the media, human rights, history, politics, aesthetics, technology, economy and ecology; to get at the unseen structures in our world and contribute to a broader understanding of society. What you can get is not always what you might see.” Jansen’s point is well taken, but I would expand it to say that the photographs taken by all kinds of people can be a tool for challenging the world view.
2019. A Conversation and Deconstruction of the Female Gaze in Photography. Lomography Magazine.
Jansen, C. (2017). How female photographers are deflecting the male gaze. CNN Style. https://www.cnn.com/style/article/girl-on-girl-female-gaze-photography/index.html
McKinley, A. (2016). The ‘Female Gaze’ in Fashion Photography. Lens. The New York Times. https://lens.blogs.nytimes.com/2016/11/01/the-female-gaze-in-fashion-photography/
26 February 2020
I am unsettled by the misappropriation of the terms ‘voyeur’ or ‘scopophilia’ by writers of photography. The Latin root of voyeur indicates that it means “to see”, and is related to “to know” and the Proto-Indo-European weide-. It appears, but I couldn’t find the exact date, that the term took on the psychologic meaning sometime in the last 150 years. My entry into the discussion: I’m having a hard time utilizing “voyeur” in any way except for the original definition. I would prefer, instead, to say “curious”, or “admiring” or as De, above, alludes to, “forensic”. Perhaps even “like a geometer”. But to soften the usage of voyeur is to blur the line between sexual aggression and gaze. I’m a bit inflexible when it comes to definitions as words are communication code- a universal meaning ensures that our intentions are accurately expressed. Just my two cents 🙂
I have now reconsidered my position on the use of voyeur to describe an interest or fascination. This was the original definition so it make sense. It seems a bit disingenuous that these terms was utilized in describing the viewers interest in the image. My gut feeling is that the terms were adopted more because of the controversial meanings of the word and less because the words mean exactly “to see” or “to like to see”.