Masculinity and femininity are interesting when considered as a unit, and they are equally appealing when considered separately. When considered together, though, they represent and provide complex examples of both contrast and symbiosis. I find it easier to dissect, construct, and digest when the object of said dissection, construction, or digestion has a comparison, a counterpart. It is clear that the contrast between masculinity and femininity can represent the inequality, exploitation, and abuse received by females from males and by males from females. However, the idea of contrast implies dualism, and on the other side of exploitation and darkness exists health and light. Contrast, while connotatively separating, also represents the compatibility and beauty of difference. Living with powerful words such as masculinity and femininity can be difficult, as society and its institutions are sure to inform the masses of their dissimilarities, and of their potential, resulting incompatibilities. However, I find it necessary to remove one’s self from society’s wave of constructed information and retreat back that which is basic: Humans breathe in oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide, plant life breathes in carbon dioxide and exhales oxygen. Humans and plant life do not function similarly, in fact their functions represent the epitome of difference—complete opposition. However, without this difference, without this relationship created around an idea of that which is opposite, there would be no life. A parallel can then be drawn to masculinity and femininity; just because males and females think differently, act differently, and require different things to achieve and maintain a state of contentment does not mean they cannot coexist, survive, and thrive both individually and together. It is the potential, successful coexistence between masculinity and femininity that strikes me most.
The ideas behind what is masculine and feminine are and always have been constructed—historically, psychologically, sociologically, individually. I think what I find most fascinating about masculinity and femininity, aside from their codependent relationship, are the different definitions each individual brings to the foreground from their respective backgrounds. My unique with masculinity is that it can be straight, A to B, but that it can also be a little squiggly, A up to A.5 down to B and off to B.5. My experience with femininity is that it is rarely ever A to B, and that its “squiggly-ness” often far exceeds A to A.5. My reasoning for this differentiation is that femininity does not travel in letters, it travels in colors; purple to yellow to blue to orange, attempting, as difficult as it might be, to move from one color to its complement (as men attempt to move from one letter to its successor).
My photographs deal with the give and take between masculinity and femininity and how each impacts the other; and I approached these ideas through lines. The first, “The Ball,” is an image split in two: dark and light, wood and cement, ball and ball-less. The image suggests a divide and calls into question the emptiness of separation. The second, “Master,” is an image of a dog sitting and looking up at his owner. The line of the leash ties the two together, and the tilt of the dog’s head suggests its position in the relationship. The third, “Untitled of an Alley,” illustrates, through the crooked shadow of the fence, men and women coming together despite complications in order to move forward together. The fourth, “Men and Women, or Just Men?” is a pedestrian-walking sign with a stray wire cutting through the image of the woman (as a woman walks away in the background). The last, “Love,” is of graffiti on a cement median. The word, “LOVE,” cuts across even the straightest of lines.
My photographs are of the every-day occurrence, a poetics inspired by the idea that there is so much beauty in the ordinary. One particular artist who inspired my poetics is Vivian Maier. She photographed Chicago and New York in the ‘50s and ‘60s, documenting a simple handhold, a nap on a train, or women’s legs. She found beauty in the ordinary, and her unique vision created the foundation for a spectacular, easily-entered perspective. Another artist, Cindy Sherman, took on femininity differently in her series, Untitled Film Stills. She called into question the representation of women in society through a series of staged photographs, each telling their own story about women and each allowing the viewer to embody the mentality of women. Both Maier and Sherman, whether candid or staged, embraced the simplicity of everyday life, brought to the ordinary their respective backgrounds, and created distinct images that display a particular vision about beauty, life, and the ordinary.
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