Class Notes

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            <title>Joy Through Strength in the Bardo</title>
            <author>Sally George</author>
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                  <title>Heresies Issue #3: Lesbian Art and Artists</title>
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                     <publisher>HERESIES: A Feminist Publication on Art and Politics</publisher>
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         <pb n="34" facs="https://raw.githubusercontent.com/BucknellDSC/heresies/main/issue03/Issue3_images/issue3_036.jpg"/>
         <head><title>Class Notes</title></head>
         <byline>Harmony Hammond</byline>
         
         <div>
            <p> Class hierarchies and heterosexuality are patriarchal institutions which divide
               women, give some women power over others, and destroy our strength. As a lesbian
               feminist artist, 1 am interested in examining the assumptions of class and
               heterosexuality in art, and the role of lesbian art as a potential catalyst for
               social change. This article will focus on the myth of art as classless, and how
               this myth functions to separate us from the reality of our lives and affects the
               way in which we see ourselves. Specifically, I want to discuss how we as lesbian
               artists need to defy this myth by developing class consciousness, and
               incorporating it in the development of lesbian art and culture.</p>
         </div>
         
         <div>
            <head>THE MYTH</head>
            <p>Fine art is a reflection of upper class interests, values, tastes, and patterns
               of thinking. The images found in art reflect and serve the needs of a small
               group of “corporate-government elite” (upper class white men) who define culture
               in America and elsewhere if they can profit from it. They found, fund, and run
               art museums, set standards of taste, and have a vested interest in creating,
               validating, and supporting art whose form and content justifies and furthers a
               patriarchal social order.<note>1. The Catalogue Committee of Artists Meeting for
                  Cultural Change, an anti-catalogue, 1977. The catalogue was written as a
                  protest to the Whitney exhibition, "American Art, 1976. I have included a
                  condensed version of a more detailed discussion of “how art is mystified,
                  how art exhibitions influence our views of history, and how collectors such
                  as <persName key="John D. Rockefeller III" ref="http://www.wikidata.org/entity/Q1699735">John D. Rockefeller III</persName> benefit from cultural philanthropy.</note> Jackie
               St. Joan has defined this social order as:</p>
            <quote>"...that system—intellectual, political, social, sexual, psychological—which
               requires in the name of human progress that one group (in the history of the
               world, rich, white men) controls and exploits the energies of another and in
               which women are particularly despised. It includes patriarchal institutions
               (heterosexuality, the nuclear family, private property, etc.) which are the
               tools of oppression as well as the patriarchal mind-constructs which, like the
               capitalist mind-constructs, limit even our ability to think beyond what
               is.<note>2. "A Lesbian Feminist: Jackie St. Joan, an interview, in Big Mama
                  Rag, Jan-Feb, 1977, Vol. 5, no. 1.</note></quote>
            <p>Rarely does fine art include images of workers, the workplace, or daily survival.
               Rarely does it depict the experiences of Blacks, Native Americans, women, or
               lesbians. When these images do appear, they seem outside the experience of those
               portrayed because they are romanticized or stereotyped, rather than real. For
               instance, lesbian sexuality is rarely portrayed in visual art and when it is,
               say in film, lesbians are presented in butch/femme roles, as sick, masochistic,
               and sadistic, and as though sexuality was the only important thing in their
               lives. This limited male view hardly relates to my experience as a lesbian. Nor
               do I feel that my identity as an artist is realistically portrayed. The artist’s
               life is romanticized as a chosen struggle of economic hardship necessary to
               produce art rather than as a product of the alienation of artists from
               society.</p>
            <p>If art provides a way for us to perceive ourselves and the world around us, it
               seems necessary that we examine what is validated as art. An excellent example
               of an attempt to write social history through art was the exhibition “American
               
               Art,” a collection belonging to <persName key="John D. Rockefeller III" ref="http://www.wikidata.org/entity/Q1699735">John D. Rockefeller III</persName>, which was shown last
               fall at the <orgName key="Whitney Museum of American Art" ref="http://www.wikidata.org/entity/Q639791">Whitney Museum</orgName> as our Bicentennial survey exhibition of American
               
               art. This collection contains one work by a woman artist, one work by a Black
               artist, and no work by Hispanic or Native American artists. The absence of work
               by women and Third World artists in this and most other collections and
               exhibitions, denies the experiences of most Americans. Not to see their
               experiences reflected in culture is to say that they don’t exist. Because art
               both creates and reflects social realities, their absence becomes a political
               issue. As the artists writing in an anti-catalogue” state: “Omission is one of
               the mechanisms by which fine art reinforces the values and beliefs of the
               powerful and suppresses the experiences of others."<note>3. an
                  anti-catalogue</note></p>
            <p>Another mechanism reinforcing upper class values is the myth of art as classless
               and universal. By creating the myth of universal art, those in power teach us to
               identify with images and the experiences these images represent, which have
               nothing to do with our own class position. We are told that art, and therefore
               the artist, is classless, and that our experiences are immaterial and should be
               ignored.</p>
            <p>All classes accept this myth, for to question it would be to reveal the
               oppressive political structures and social institutions underlying patriarchal
               
               capitalist society. <persName key="Rita Mae Brown" ref="http://www.wikidata.org/entity/Q242956">Rita Mae Brown</persName> writes that “America is a country reluctant
               
               to recognize class differences. The American myth crystallized is: This is the
               land of equal opportunity; work hard, stay in line, you’ll get ahead. (Getting
               ahead always means money.)"<note>4. Brown, Rita Mae, “The Last Straw," Class and
                  Feminism: A Collection of Essays From The Furies, edited by Charlotte Bunch
                  and Nancy Myron, Diana Press, 1974.</note> Identification with this myth of
               classlessness redirects us from dealing with our own particular oppression as
               working class, as women, as lesbians, etc. The artists in an anti-catalogue”
               state:</p>
            <quote>“The mystification of art depends upon two things—upon our surrendering our
               capacity to judge and upon unquestioning acceptance of authority in place of the
               printed word and the authority of scholarly titles and distinctions. The
               mystification of art takes our passivity for granted. It encourages us to look
               upon art as if art had no bearing on experience.<note>5. an
                  anti-catalogue.</note></quote>
            <pb n="35" facs="https://raw.githubusercontent.com/BucknellDSC/heresies/main/issue03/Issue3_images/issue3_037.jpg"/>
            <p> Accepting the myth is accepting our invisibility and powerlessness. To question
               cultural attitudes is to question social conditions. Passivity smooths the pain
               of powerlessness and helps us to survive these conditions. We need to see that
               behavioral patterns affect who becomes an artist, what artists create, what art
               is validated as quality, and how art in turn reinforces those patterns.</p>
         </div>
         
         <div>
            <head>HOW I BOUGHT THE MYTH</head>
            <p>Thinking back to junior high school in the fifties, I see that one reason 1 chose
               to be an artist was to escape the daily pain of lower middle class life in
               Hometown—of living in a duplex, taking a bus to school, and wearing
               hand-me-downs until I got a job at Lerner’s and could buy my own clothes. The
               guy I went with turned me on to Mulligan, Coleman, Getz, and all that jazz and
               the beat writers <persName key="Jack Kerouac" ref="http://www.wikidata.org/entity/Q160534">Kerouac</persName>, Ginsberg, and Prevert. They were "artists" and
               intellectuals, without money (like me), and romanticized. I thumbed my nose and
               fantasized riding naked down the highway. We fucked. I got a scholar- ship to
               the Saturday School of the Art Institute of Chicago. I wanted to be a dress
               designer or fashion illustrator because it sounded “classy” and "sophisticated."
               If all else failed, I could be an art teacher.</p>
            <p>In the museum I saw “real" painting and sculpture. I remember sitting in front of
               the Pollock, the Rothko, and the Still, thinking that I could do those
               paintings, but not realizing that I was a woman and that it didn’t matter what I
               did. In the studios I saw art being made by grubby students and I took note that
               the artist could wear anything, say anything, and didn’t have to socialize. The
               artist seemed special and not bound by class behavior. I would be an artist.
               Accepting fine art meant renouncing my class background and stepping out of the
               lower middle class life of Hometown into the universal world of the muses. Safe
               and protected at last. Who ever heard of a middle class muse?</p>
         </div>
         
         <div>
            <head>THE MYTH SHATTERED: CLASS IS HOW YOU SEE THE WORLD. ART IS HOW YOU SEE THE
               WORLD.</head>
            <p>It has taken me a long time to begin to understand and accept my lower middle
               class background, and to realize that the art world I entered wasn’t an
               alternative to middle class society but that women, Blacks, and the poor are
               also oppressed within the alternate “world of culture. As long as society
               allowed me to be a starving artist" I did not question my own experiences, or
               how they affected my work and work attitudes. Acting out a romanticized art life
               was my option to upward mobility. Heterosexual women get their privilege from
               the same patriarchal systems that give privilege to middle and upper class
               women. Coming out as a lesbian with a feminist consciousness forced me to
               realize what class privilege I did and did not have, and what I would now lose.
               Even the fact that I first came out to myself through my art and not in bed is
               in itself a reflection of my class position. As a feminist artist I had learned
               to use my work as a place to confront fears and other feelings privately in my
               studio. A woman working as a maid, a waitress, or a seamstress, does not have
               this option.</p>
            <p>As a lesbian, however, 1 was forced to confront and give up illusions I had about
               being accepted and rewarded by the male art world where they treated art
               seriously. To be public about being a lesbian means that your work may not be
               taken seriously, or may squeezed into a category of “camp” or erotic art.
               Because you do not hang out with the right men or the right women (those who
               hang out with the men) at the right bars, and since the lesbian feminist
               community doesn’t yet support its visual artists, you are less likely to make
               your work visible, to have professional dialogue, and to support yourself
               through your work either directly (sales) or indirectly (teaching). For women,
               the economic class system is largely determined by their relationship to men.
               The higher up the man she relates to, the more she benefits from the system. The
               lesbian, by not relating to men does not benefit economically and has no
               privilege unless she is independently wealthy. Most of us do not have that kind
               of support and opportunity, and without support, it is very difficult to
               
               continue making art. Historically, known lesbian visual artists (<persName key="Rosa Bonheur" ref="http://www.wikidata.org/entity/Q241732">Rosa Bonheur</persName>,
               <persName key="Romaine Brooks" ref="http://www.wikidata.org/entity/Q466607">Romaine Brooks</persName>, etc.) were wealthy. Only they had the privilege to continue
               
               making art despite their public lesbian lifestyle.</p>
            <p>If we examine the relationship of lesbians to the class system, and to
               patriarchy, we can get an idea of the active role art can play in developing a
               culture that does not make women powerless and invisible. In “Lesbians and The
               
               Class Position of Women," <persName key="Margaret Small" ref="http://www.wikidata.org/entity/Q115581765">Margaret Small</persName> writes:</p>
            
            <quote>...At this point in history, the primary role that lesbians have to play in
               the development of revolutionary consciousness is ideological. Because lesbians
               are objectively outside of heterosexual reality, they have potential for <pb n="36" facs="https://raw.githubusercontent.com/BucknellDSC/heresies/main/issue03/Issue3_images/issue3_038.jpg"/> developing an alternative ideology not limited by heterosexuality.
               Lesbians stand in a different relationship to (the) three conditions that
               determine the class position of women (production, reproduction, sexuality). The
               lesbian does not have a domestic base that is defined by the production of new
               labor power and maintenance of her husband’s labor power. Her relationship is in
               proletarian terms. The element of slave consciousness integral to
               heterosexuality is missing.<note>6. Small, Margaret, “Lesbians and the Class
                  Position of Women," Lesbianism and the Women's Movement, edited by Nancy
                  Myron and Charlotte Bunch, Diana Press, 1975.</note></quote>
            <p>I am interested in how we can do this through art. Developing a class
               consciousness does not mean that each work of art by a woman would have to
               directly relate to women of all classes, but rather that the form and content of
               the work, be it figurative or abstract, would somehow illuminate experience in
               such a way that it is shared with and includes rather than excludes women from
               different backgrounds. Instead of presenting one universal experience that is
               supposed to represent ALL of us yet represents few, art should reflect and give
               information—facts, emotional response, visual accounting, ways of seeing into
               and understanding different experiences and feelings. We must acknowledge our
               differences in order to learn about, support, and work with each other. Thus I
               feel that to make art as a lesbian with class consciousness has far-reaching
               creative and political potential for connecting women through work. This means
               actively rejecting cultural dictates, taking responsibility for our work, and
               questioning the concept of apolitical art. Art-making is where consciousness is
               formed.</p>
         </div>
         <div>
            <head>ANALYSIS—REINTEGRATION</head>
            <p>Ultimately it is a question of the function of art beyond the personal. It is not
               merely a matter of doing work that doesn’t oppress others, but also of doing
               work that pushes further towards a redefinition and transformation of culture.
               For me, coming out as a lesbian has a lot to do with developing a class
               consciousness, and that consciousness brought to my art raises questions of
               imagery, permanence, scale, ways of working, and concepts of art education. It
               raises questions of money and power, who sees my work, and what effect I want it
               to have on others.</p>
            <p>This does not mean that we as class conscious lesbian artists must make paintings
               with recognizable figurative imagery, that we must be downwardly mobile, give up
               making art for “real political struggle, or involve ourselves in the rhetorical
               circles of the artistic left. What it does mean is not making or accepting class
               assumptions about art such as what is allowable as art, who makes it, who sees
               it, and what its function is to be. By removing esthetic hierarchies and the
               need to pretend that we all share the same experiences, meaning can become
               accessible and available.</p>
            <p>Talk about "bringing art to the people” only reinforces class distinctions. Class
               consciousness can be reflected through our art by demystifying and deprivatizing
               the creative process. Presently it is difficult for a working class woman who
               likes to write, paint, or dance even to consider being a professional artist.
               When making art as well as owning art ceases to be a privilege, and the
               art-making process itself is available to women of different classes, races, and
               geographic backgrounds, we can begin to understand the political potential of
               creative expression.</p>
            <p>As lesbians, we need our experience validated culturally. To refuse art that
               denies our existence and to deny that art is apolitical and universal, is to
               actively challenge the wealthy few and their supporters who have been defining
               and controlling social order through the manipulation of fine art. Demanding
               group and self identity in art is one means of resisting oppression. The
               art-making process is a tool for making these demands and changes.</p>
            
            <p>Art is essentially work. <persName key="Simone Weil" ref="http://www.wikidata.org/entity/Q157309">Simone Weil</persName> writes that art is a surplus commodity in
               
               this culture because it does not have immediate consumption and is not shared
               and used by the people. That artists are not part of the paid work force further
               separates the productive from the consumptive classes. The work process (and the
               purpose of work) have always been external to the worker. Just as she writes
               that our main task is to discover how it is possible for the work to be free and
               to integrate it, we must free the art-making process so it is accessible and
               understandable to everyone. The process should be as available as the
               product.<note>7. Weil, Simone, First and Last Notebooks, translated by
                  Richard Rees, Oxford University Press, London, 1970, p. 58-61.</note></p>
            <p>Acknowledging the existence of class structures, and how through art they can
               affect cultural attitudes is just a beginning—a necessary step one. In the long
               run, we should not focus merely on the relationship of one class to another, or
               on the relationship of art and class, but on defining a future classless
               society. The integration of art into the lives of all people and not just the
               upper class contributes to that vision. "Revolution presupposes not simply an
               economic and political transformation but also a technical and cultural
               one."<note>8. First and Last Notebooks.</note></p>
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        <p> <persName key="Harmony Hammond" ref="http://www.wikidata.org/entity/Q5659529">Harmony Hammond</persName> is a painter and sometimes writer who is a member of the Heresies
           
           collective. She teaches at any university and feminist art program that will have
           her, and gives workshops and lectures on lesbian artists and feminist artists. </p>
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