- After the Revolution: Women Who Transformed Contemporary ArtBy Eleanor Heartney, Helaine Posner, Nancy Princenthal, Sue Scott
- Kiki SmithOur PickBy Helaine Posner and David Frankel
- Otherworlds: The Art of Nancy Spero and Kiki SmithBy Jon Bird
- Kiki Smith: Prints, Books & ThingsOur PickBy Wendy Weitman
Important Art by Kiki Smith
One of her early large-scale wax sculptures, Untitled explores the human body from within a variety of themes such as religion, procreation, life, and death. The sculpture consists of two life-size, nude figures (one female and one male) placed near one another, each held slightly aloft by vertical props. The anonymous-looking, unidealized figures are Caucasian, depicted in mostly naturalistic skin-tones with areas of red-tinted mottling on each (the male figure is of noticeably ruddier complexion). Both figures slump forward, eyes closed, hanging limply and puppet-like, as if dead. Milk has leaked from the breasts of the woman and runs down her torso, while semen has dripped down the legs of the man.
Although each figure is separate, the similarity of treatment suggests that they are to be viewed as a unified composition. Elevated as they are, their limp postures hint at ideas of death and suffering, perhaps crucifixion, while their gendered presence (along with their bodily fluids) invite associations with procreation and sexuality, and tie them to such religious concepts as Adam and Eve, and, ultimately, notions of Original Sin.
Examined more closely, Untitled characterizes Smith's self-confessed preoccupation with visceral functions associated with life giving bodily fluids - exemplified here by the milk and semen. In contrast to those secretions tied to procreation, the red tinted coloring on both figures (the male more so, imparting a somewhat ruddy hue to his features), certainly implies blood, but might also remind the viewer of the ancient burial practice of adorning the dead body with red ochre. Of further significance is the life/death dichotomy that blood represents as the vector for deadly diseases such as AIDS, from which her sister had recently died and which was then reaching epidemic proportions worldwide.
Smith's prosaic figures are entirely human, with the blemishes, defects, and weaknesses intrinsic to humanity. They challenge the viewer to see the body as more (and less) than beautiful, idealized objects of veneration or attainment; they demand honest self-reflection by the viewer, and acceptance of the frailty, carnality, and vulnerability that are inherent in living in the flesh.
Smith's interest in the elemental functions of the human body, particularly with female anatomy, merges with her Feminist perspective, and the iconography of her Catholic religion in her sculpture, Virgin Mary. She has appropriated the image of the revered matriarch of her faith and removed the luster generated by centuries of veneration to investigate those vital differences that place her above all women.
Nearly life-size, the wax figure stands, feet together, arms at her sides turned slightly outward, palms up. Her body is depicted nude, but without skin, so that the musculoskeletal system is all that remains, except that her head, hands, breasts, genitalia, and feet all retain their pale flesh. Her head is hairless, the facial features barely discernable. The impersonal nature of the figure, with its reddish-pink layers and bands of muscle, sinew and pale bone brings to mind anatomical models and medical textbook illustrations.
The open-arm posture, however, suggests images of a Eurocentric 'Virgin Mary', for which this sculpture is named, and is reminiscent of Orans figures of early Christianity. Familiar posture aside, Smith withholds Mary's traditional attributes: the halo, blue robe, bejeweled crown, lilies, roses, nursing infant, which generate an otherworldly sort of aura meant to elevate her above all women. Instead, the viewer is asked to acknowledge the woman beneath the veneer of holy mysticism. This Mary offers the viewer no gentle countenance or spiritual comfort. Rather, by removing her skin yet retaining those portions for which she was adored - her breasts, uterus and hands - Smith's sculpture reveals the affinity Mary shares with all women, the blood and bodily functions, the muscle, sinew, and bone. Once examined, the viewer is obligated to acknowledge that those functions for which Mary was revered (and for which women have, historically, been condemned by the Church as unclean) are what actually made her a woman, and that in her humanity she was simply flesh and blood. This leaves viewers with a conundrum, as they must decide either that the venerated figure was simply human or that a woman's body is actually sacred.
It is important in understanding Smith's contributions to art to examine other media beyond sculpture, which are far ranging. Smith had considerable experience in printmaking, having experimented with monotype, and screen methods since the late 1970s. But, her work in etching was new.
Sueño (Spanish for "dream") is a two-color intaglio print depicting a life-size figure curled into a distorted semblance of a fetal pose in the center of a large sheet of Japanese paper. It is impossible to discern the figure's gender (though Smith herself posed for it, while assistants traced her), reinforcing its enigmatic quality. Negative space surrounds it creating a sense of vulnerability. It curls awkwardly, with its back curved upward and slightly torqued, legs drawn up, its right foot tucked behind the left leg, arms pressed open from the shoulder, and its hairless skull facing downward in profile.
The figure appears to be without skin, its striated musculoskeletal system etched intricately in thousands of lines of black ink, heightened by tints of red. A single, thin outline hovers slightly away from the figure, traced most of the way around, representing the outer skin, similar to an x-ray. The stark contrast of ink against pale ground strengthens the aura of defenselessness, while the detailed linear treatment and braiding of the muscles highlights the unnatural pose.
Although Sueño parallels Virgin Mary in its depiction of a flayed figure, it leads the viewer to a different conclusion laced with irony. Although the viewer sees the figure in amazing detail, it is still completely anonymous. And, for all that this flayed individual appears very vulnerable, by virtue of its location within the composition, one also experiences a sense of discomfort, even unease due to the unnatural placement of limbs and unresolved posture.