Whether you love it or loathe it, social media is omnipresent and every day millions of people upload millions of photographs to their social media pages for the visual consumption of friends, family and complete strangers.  John Berger (1972: 2) states that ‘every image embodies a way of seeing’.  Images posted on social media reveal much about those who made them, particularly how they view the world the around them.  Unfortunately social media, through the types of images displayed there, can be used to reinforce dysmorphic ideas about our bodies and problematic views on gender and gender “normativity”.  Recently, I have been thinking about the types of visual representations of men and women that communicate dysmorphic or problematic messages, and specifically how others see [interpret] these representations.  What does a self-made image of a man or woman posted on a social media site mean to others who view them?  And to what degree can they impact on the spectator?  Do such images hold meaning for the spectator, are they more than a fleeting visual curiosity or distraction?  If such images do hold meaning; what meaning exactly?  I know of course the simple answer to these questions is – it depends!  Depends on the image and depends on who the spectator is.  None-the-less, I find this an interesting line of enquiry. 

Berger (1972: 58) suggests that within art ‘women are depicted in a quite different way from men – not because the feminine is different from the masculine – but because the “ideal” spectator is always assumed to be male and the image of the woman is designed to flatter him’.  I wonder how this applies to contemporary representations of men and women on social media?  Do the same assumptions of the ideal spectator that may have applied to works of fine art, have any resonance within the sphere of social media?  I’m not so sure.  However, that is not to say hegemonic notions of gender are not significant influencers in the construction and interpretation of images posted on social media.  Exploring the notion of an ideal spectator within the forum of social media is complex, and without a consideration of the subjectivity of an image may be redundant altogether. 

Visual representations are after all highly subjective, and the interpretation of an image is informed by pre-existing assumptions held by the spectator.  However, if the spectator has been heavily influenced by prevailing hegemonic notions, it is fair to say these notions will in turn impact on the spectator’s interpretation of an image posted on social media.  Images may communicate using symbols or actions commonly associated with prevailing hegemonic notions, in this case the interpretation of the image will be obviously influenced by these symbols and actions, thus simultaneously reinforcing and perpetuating the meaning of the symbol or action.

The bread and butter of the visual arts lie in its subjectivity.  Two individuals can look at the same abstract painting and come away with entirely different interpretation of what it depicts.  Moreover, the same two individuals can look at a hyper-realistic portrait and yet differ on what the image communicates.  Demonstrating the subtleties of interpretation and the intrinsic difference in human judgement about truth and reality.  Visual representations of men and women on social media are rarely abstract, they are more often explicit in representation, yet there exists an applicability of subjectivity.  Even though representations on social media communicate in a visual language that is generic and lucid, there may exist a degree of ambiguity.  Much of this ambiguity is determined by the clarity of the image in its ability to communicate and the individual spectator who sees the image, and their ability to interpret.  None-the-less, a very many of the representations of women and men posted on social media appear to clearly communicate problematic notions about gender.  Many social media images are overtly pejorative, self-demeaning or simply serve to perpetuate dysmorphic beliefs about our bodies.

This has got me thinking, whether anyone is purposefully using representations of men and women via social media to challenge gender stereotypes, problematic notions of gender normativity and body normativity.  My past experience in the visual arts exposed me to artists, such as, Barbara Kruger, Zoe Leonard, and Cindy Sherman.  Artists who made femininity and the female form subjects of their work and whom in different ways confront the ideal spectator that Berger above refers to.  In my search to find someone using representations of men and women on social media that challenge dysmorphic ideas about our bodies and problematic views on gender and gender normativity, I came across three artists who I would like to highlight here.  These artists’ work, I believe are visually powerful, deeply meaningful and engaging.  Each artist’s work manages to successfully confront and challenge contemporary constructs of gender and gender normativity. 

Lorenzo Triburgo

Lorenzo Triburgo a New York artist residing in Portland Oregon, produced a series of photographic work in 2009 entitled Transportraits.  This portraiture series of transgender (when someone's gender identity or expression does not match their assigned sex) men examines and questions representations of American masculinity.  The work intended to question the origin of American male identity subtly interrogates notions of heroism.  Each heroic style portrait, set against an oil painting influenced by the late American landscape painter Bob Ross, depicts a transgender man posed looking above or to the side of the spectator.  None of the men gaze directly at the spectator, giving them a reflective and somewhat distant look, untouchable to the viewer.  The men look proud, confident and content, each communicating a subtle sense of achievement and heroism.  Full of vivid colour, this portraiture series is gentle but strong, elusive yet honest; an interesting commentary on what is perceived to be “real” masculinity. 

Sara Swaty

Sara Swaty originally from St. Louis, is a Los Angeles based photographer who explores gender expressions, gender roles and gender boundaries through her photographic work.  Sara’s work is creative, powerful and energised.  Pink and Blue and In Between and Outside are two collections of photographs that explore gender constructs and in different ways challenge the male / female binary.  Pink and Blue, with matching colour scheme, vividly depicts men and women in domestic and imagined settings.  These images are visually powerful and glossy, loaded with symbolism and metaphor.  In contrast In Between and Outside presents candid images that are more visually raw.  These photographs explore gender identity and the body, blurring the division between masculine and feminine.  Challenging other images that serve to perpetuate dysmorphic ideas about our bodies.  The subjects of In Between and Outside are individuals born into a gender that they do not identify with and others who have made physical transitions to change their bodies.  

Leland Bobbé

Leland Bobbé has worked as a professional photographer for 30 years.  A native of New York, his Half Drag – a different kind of beauty, is a collection of photographs that provide a unique perspective on drag queens.  Leland’s work is exceptionally well realised.  His photographs are beautiful, visually charged with drama and at the same time offer a unique vulnerability.  The dual images - half drag queen / half man are hugely engaging.  Visually these photographs are rich in subject matter, colour and texture.  Not only do Leland’s photographs engage our curiosity, they challenge normative ideas about gender roles and hegemonic notions of masculinity.  

Each of these three artists explore similar ideas about gender identity and gender roles, yet each bring a unique understanding of and insight into the socially constructed nature of gender.  Visually each artist confronts the spectator with images that challenge hegemonic notions about gender, and present the viewer with subject matter that demonstrates the complexity, fluidity and indeterminateness of gender.  To view more work by these artists visit their websites - details below.

© Clay Darcy, August 2014

For more information on...
Lorenzo Triburgo go to www.triburgo.com or visit his Facebook page- www.facebook.com/lorenzotriburgophotography
Sara Swaty go to www.saraswatyphoto.com or visit her Facebook page- www.facebook.com/saraswatyphoto
Leland Bobbé go to www.lelandbobbe.com or visit his Facebook page- www.facebook.com/leland.bobbe.studio

References:
Berger, J. (1972) Ways of Seeing, Great Britain: Penguin Books. 

The countryside is often regarded by urban dwellers as being quiet, uneventful and dare I say it a bit boring!  However, my most recent trip down to the rolling hills of Wexford was one of the most surreal and eventful I’ve had in many years.

The weekend began with a local amateur drama production in a small town nestled in the hills between Bunclody and Carnew.  The production was staged in the local community hall, which is adjoined to the local pub on one side and a children’s crèche on the opposite.  There is also a recycling bank, children’s play area, a holy grotto and out door gym directly outside the community hall.  One of the oddest combinations of amenities I’ve ever come across!  You can drop your child to crèche, have a work out, say your novenas and then have a pint, all with not having to walk more than 15 meters in any one direction.

Never either have I been to a drama production where you can sit in anticipation of the show with a pint of Guinness in hand – brilliant!  The production we attended was a comedy skit about a farmer ‘Bob Haigh-Turner’ (say it out loud) who reluctantly weds an ugly woman ‘Barb Dwyer’, played by a man, in this case a young local electrician.  The bridesmaids were two local farmers who have seen more harvests than I’ve had hot dinners, dressed in purple wigs and colourful frocks.  

The play was a roaring success, judging by the reaction of the crowd.  The majority of laughs were at the expense of the men who were dressed as women.  There were heckles and jeers from the crowd, tears running down cheeks, exclamations of disbelief, and camera flashes left and right.   The interval was 20 minutes, at which point everyone crowded into the bar for a refill.  At the end of the production as one half of the audience spilled into the bar again, the other half cleared the chairs from the hall for a set dance.  A local band took to the stage and began singing songs about their mammies, little robins and their favourite types of heifer.   Whilst the cast of the play (still in costume) danced with family and friends, other set dancers spun around the hall like little figurines in snow globes.  Platters of food were distributed, and while people chewed on sausages and chicken they laughed and joked about the men in drag.

I wondered whether, if the play had been about transgendered men, dressed as women, what might the reaction of the crowd have been like?  My guess is that it would have been entirely different.  This production was not intended to challenge gender stereotypes nor raise awareness of transgender issues; it was a comedy skit.   However, the men dressed as women in this context seemed to me to reinforce normative gender stereotypes.  Certainly the make-up and costumes were exaggerated and brass, and this added to comic effect.  The men in drag looked awkward and uncomfortable, they laughed nervously and seemed unsure as how exactly to behave.  These men in dresses were subjects of hilarity and ridicule.  It was as if humour was being used to define what masculinity is not.  Maybe my interest in gender studies has resulted in me reading too much into this comedy skit.  But it does raise the question, why is a man in a dress so funny?  The answer may lie in normative gender stereotypes, which are so strongly defined and socially regulated, that when we are met with something outside the norm we react with disbelief, laughter and ridicule.

Leaving the play aside, the following day my wifey and I headed off for a leisurely drive, and found our way to a small town called Clonegal, close to the Carlow / Wexford boarder.  We ventured up towards Huntington Castle, where we enjoyed some tea and biscuits before taking a guided tour of the house.  Whilst enjoying our tea, two women walked passed us in pink and purple velvet robes, each wearing crowns and other mystical type necklaces and bracelets.  My wife and I presumed it was all part of the tour.  Huntington Castle, it turns out, is home to an international multi-faith religion known as the Fellowship of Isis (not to be confused with the acronym ISIS for the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant militia).  The Fellowship of Isis celebrates the feminine aspect in all religions and the basement of the castle features a variety of temples and shrines dedicated to a variety of deities.   Shortly after the two women in robes passed, a man and woman in similar apparel approached.  My wife’s eyebrows raised and a small smile emerged on her face.

The tour of Huntington Castle was excellent and the interior is filled with beautiful rooms steeped in history.  Our guide, Harry Durdin-Robertson, told us about the lives of his ancestors, the many of whom continue to reside in the castle in ghostly form.  The basement temples were fascinating and eerie.  As our tour ended amongst the temples and shrines our guide informed us ‘it seems your not going to be sacrificed today!’ to which the group giggled.  With our tour complete, my wife and I continued to explore the grounds of the castle.  An elderly man, with a long pony tail and hands full of silver rings, approached very quickly on a motorised chair, and with a skid and a grunt became stuck on a grass embankment.  I approach the man to help dislodge his chair.  I joked saying ‘you need to get all-terrain tyres!’  He laughed, stopped, looked at me funnily and asked ‘… are you going to the ceremony?’  I pondered for a moment, curiosity sparked and tempted to say yes, but my wife shot me a ‘don’t you dare look’ and I replied ‘no, are you?’  He was, and once freed from the embankment he tore away in his chair at top speed. 

With the man speeding away towards a wooded area, a parade of people became visible; dressed in robes, they danced and sang through the trees.  My wife and I stood and watched in amazement.  It reminded me of scenes from the 1973 film ‘The Wicker Man’ featuring Christopher Lee.  The group were celebrating the feast of Lughnasadh, marking the beginning of the harvest season.  My wife was anxious I might be tempted to join the ceremony and so I was ushered promptly back towards the car park!

That evening our exploration of the hills of Wexford continued with a visit to the ‘Holy Grail’ restaurant in Ballindaggin, where in the surrounds of medieval style I enjoyed one of the best Indian curry’s I’ve ever had!  The Holy Grail although situated in a tiny rural ‘village’ (a pub, church and adjoining grave yard) is renowned for its Indian menu.  The head chef is Indian, as is the kitchen and waiting staff. 

My weekend in rural Wexford was as always great, however, this weekend was far from being quiet and boring.  It was in fact both comic and alternative, mysterious and diverse.  The weekend featured three distinct communities, the first supporting their local amateur drama production, the second celebrating an ancient religious festival and the third bring a taste of India to rural Wexford.  The drama production and proceeding dance was a mix of fun, friendship and frivolity, even if the play inadvertently reinforced hegemonic gender stereotypes.  Huntington Castle was a mix of old and new, with a history that goes back nearly 1000 years to the monks that first built on the land there, to a new age spirituality that celebrates femininity and advocates peace.  The Holy Grail with its Indian spices in medieval surrounds provides a case study for how the global can become local. 

The rural is anything but quiet, uneventful or boring, judging by our recent weekend visit, which was a mad mix of cross dressing farmers, chanting high priestesses and creamy Indian curries.  The diversity of urban towns and cities are equally matched in the green hills of the rural countryside … you just have to drive a little further to find it!

© Clay Darcy, August 2014