There it was, a psycho-sexual-political migraine set off by the title "Woman as Photographer," appended to an international show of 125 images by and about women at the Mpls Photo Center through April 17.
Although women have been snapping photos pretty much since the medium was invented 175 years ago, the title implies that gals are anthropological curiosities, gender-defined freaks of nature, or poseurs masquerading "as" something alien to their true nature or profession. Plus, its retro-condescension set my teeth on edge. Would anyone today mount an exhibition called "Man as Photographer"? Or, pick your poison: "Gay, Jew, Negro as Photographer." Probably not, but even after decades of consciousness-raising and workforce participation, women can still be anatomized -- and marginalized -- by their "otherness."
Setting aside my own snappish pique, it must be said that "Woman as Photographer" celebrates the notion that women's lives, talents, experiences are somehow distinct from those of the other 49 percent of the population. This is a well-intentioned effort ably curated by Christina Chang, an assistant curator at the University of Minnesota's Weisman Art Museum. Included are black-and-white and color images from throughout the United States and as far afield as Israel, Germany, England, Spain, France, Switzerland and more.
Without the labels, it would be virtually impossible to guess the photographers' gender or country of origin. Women feature in most of the images, however, and there's something very affirmative, even uplifting, about encountering so many smart, keenly observed, often beautiful pictures by and about females. I was especially taken by Véronique Khammisouk's "Perdre son Temps," an artfully lit photo of a moody teenager clutching a huge clock, so French in its symbolism. Likewise, Andrea Land's "Elizabeth" is a memorably haunting image of a fragile girl with a woman's head and a gaunt, childlike body adrift on a huge bed washed by pale light. I also very much liked Jenn Ackerman's "Exposed: Betty," in which a handsome, auburn-haired over-70-something strikes a bathing beauty pose worthy of World War II pinup Betty Grable.
At least one image, "Elizabeth and Barbara" by Lindsay Paczkowski of Minneapolis, seems to take the subtitle literally. In it, an attractive couple in their 30s pose on a porch dressed in black and wearing colorfully geometric ties. Leaning back with knees cocked in a typically "masculine" way, they appear at first glance to be guys. Maybe they're two women living life as men? Or not.
A few pictures offer windows onto experiences unique to women: Kathy P. Leistner's image of a very pregnant belly poignantly embraced by a little girl; Elli Rader's portrait of an elegant woman whose open dress reveals a mastectomy scar.
Humor is not neglected. In "Laundry," Gudrun Lock of Minneapolis offers a droll, surely Photoshopped image of women's legs in high heels protruding from a clothes dryer. Sara Paige Green of St. Paul pictures a woman's legs and hands sandwiched between sofa cushions from her "Woman as Object" series. And then there's Paula Winkler's hilariously scary "Internet Encounter #12" which shows a flabby nude guy, tattooed and sporting an alarming array of genital piercings, clutching a baroque urn of oversexualized fake flowers.
Given the show's scope and ambition, "Family of Woman" would have been an appropriate title. Like its 1955 predecessor, "Family of Man" (from an era when "man" was presumed to encompass all humanity), this show has the sociological range of a National Geographic photo essay and plenty of aesthetic high points. As a portrait of women today, it affirms once again the vitality and abundant talent of the fair sex. But we knew that.
