Courtesy of www.moma.org
What I found most fascinating about Gertrude Käsebier’s “Blessed Art Thou Among Women” was her portrayal of gentleness and purity in her mother figure. The gown this woman is wearing is of a cool, breezy, and fluid white color, symbolic of unadulterated goodness and flowing freedom, yet retaining modesty as it cascades down her body to cover her skin, augmenting the overall notion of graceful virginity. Her gown is well contrasted with the child’s staid uniform, further glorifying her beautiful stature and benevolence by juxtaposition. Her hand seems to grasp her child’s shoulder firmly but tenderly, conveying a sense of love and protection as she sends her child off into the unknown frontier that lies ahead. The child’s expression is one of anxiety and perhaps a feeling of unpreparedness, and her mother’s touch, though comforting, will soon be gone and she seems aware of that. This photograph is endearingly reminiscent of the moments of utter struggle we must endure in relation to our mothers, such as leaving Mommy on the first day of school (as the child may be doing), going off to college and leaving your mother for a long time (as I am doing right now), and even the very instant it hits us how much our mothers were worth on the day they pass away, which will probably be the saddest, most crushing time of my life. The depiction of these moments in this photograph hits home for me. I am filled with a sorrow over the inevitable loss of my mother but also a joy over the influence she has had on me and will hopefully continue to have in coming years. I interpret the title to mean that mothers are blessed among women, for the role of a mother is one that is revered across the spectrum of human life, beloved in an archetypal admiration you will find in almost all the vast and many cultures of the world. She gives us life. She nurtures us. She raises us. She is our origin in the very sense of the word. She is the ultimate love, unconditional and everlasting.
I have some questions for discussion: Do you think Käsebier intended the photographed relationship to be mother-child, or do you think she wanted to simply represent the ideal love and gentleness of a woman for a child whether it was hers or not – glorifying the woman figure and not simply the mother figure? (In my response, I had interpreted it as mother-child for the sake of discussion.) Do you think the child’s dark outfit was chosen not only to be contrasted with the woman’s white gown but also to symbolize darkness ahead (i.e. some sort of gloom, doubt, or challenges the child will be facing without her mother in the future) or do you think it was solely chosen for the brilliant contrast? What other possible interpretations can you think of for the use of the title “Blessed Art Thou Among Women”?
Courtesy of www.sfmoma.org
Through “Martha Graham,” Imogen Cunningham has masterfully captured the essence of the human condition. The female subject appears to be at the junction of eternal pain and infinite pleasure, at the rendezvous of life and death. Her expression is one of neither discomfort nor jubilance but rather of neutral euphoria, a state of enlightenment and understanding devoid of overindulgence. She has reached the final destination of the mind, and she is enraptured by it. She possesses that single shred of vital knowledge that we have all sought in our lives at one point or another, that crucial justification for existence in all its forms. But she is not happy. She is not content. She merely knows. This is a quintessential problem of existence: What do we do with the ultimate knowledge once it has graced us with its presence? Do we go on? Do we continue to be? Or do we give up the daily grind and extinguish the inner light in hopes that something better is beyond, even if that something is oblivion? This conflict plagues me all day, every day, and I am haunted by its decadent, dark whispers. But that is why this photograph appeals to me. In addition, I love the black and white contrast, which serves to expand on the opposing forces of pain and pleasure, of life and death, and the intense gamut of other applicable interrelated items. What’s particularly intriguing about this photograph is how my perception of it could be fiercely different from what Cunningham had intended and what other onlookers perceive. I see the balance of light and dark, but it’s easy to see how this depiction could simply be construed as light or dark alone. She could be in horrible pain, or she may be having an exorbitantly positive epiphany, or perhaps she is experiencing something else entirely.
There’s another aspect of this that lies in the gender of the subject. Because she is a woman, the photograph epitomizes the idea that women, like men, also experience trials and challenges (as well as intense joy) in life. While this may seem elementary to many, there is still a huge gender barrier against women’s equality, and this portrayal of the same pain and pleasure in the “weaker sex” works as a symbol to breach the gender gap. The photograph represents a profound step toward an ideal egalitarian society.
Here are some questions about the photograph for others: What do you think the subject is experiencing – pain, pleasure, or something in between? Is she upset? Is she happy? What does the black/white aspect represent for you? What do you think Cunningham intended the answers to these questions to be?
