VI FEMINA, Anita Hamremoen (norsk/english)
Betingelsesløs kjærlighet (Utdrag fra katalogteksten)/ Unconditonial love (text in English below):
Kropper vet og kan ting. Kropper lagrer lidelse og nytelse og husker og repeterer. Kropper er sosiale og symbolske. En ny baby kan symbolisere en ny begynnelse, en fortsettelse og en fremtid.
Utstillingstittelen Vi Femina er satt i sammen av to latinske ord som betyr henholdsvis styrke og kvinne. Sårbarheten, varmen og de beskyttende gestene som kvinnene viser fram bidrar til å visualisere også det tilsynelatende motsatte; kvinnens kraft og styrke. Når man ikke lenger er midtpunktet i sitt eget liv åpnes muligheten for å bli en sterkere versjon av seg selv?
Følgende tekst er utdrag fra manus til åpningstale av VI FEMINA utstillingen den 6. mars 2022.:
Betingelsesløs kjærlighet er tittelen jeg har valgt på katalogteksten jeg har skrevet inspirert av Vi Femina fotografiene. Den ble skrevet før Russlands invasjon i Ukraina. Betingelsesløs kjærlighet er noe som flere får oppdage at de har i seg under en slik krisesituasjon. Betingelsesløs kjærlighet ikke bare overfor eget nyfødt spedbarn, men også for mennesker du tidligere ikke hadde noen relasjon til. Og hva er det som motiverer både kvinner og menn til å ofre sine liv i forsvarskrig? I krig kommer kvinnene og barna i et spesielt fokus.
Det som skjer i verden akkurat nå er nok spesielt for Hamremoen som i 2018 hadde sin første internasjonale utstilling på det Russiske Statsmuseet for Fotografi med prosjektet «Poetica». Det ble deretter vist i Murmansk, og først året etter, i 2019, ble Poetica vist i Norge.
Hamremoens tidligere prosjekt forbindes gjerne med poetisk og drømmende uttrykk –selv om de viser utvalgte utsnitt av virkeligheten som omgir oss. Fotoportrettene i denne utstillingen oppleves som en direkte motsetning til dette. Her vil kunstneren Hamremoen blant annet vise fram det ekte og ufiltrerte mennesket. Nesten som en protest mot alt det tilgjorte, alle de perfekte fasadene og løgnene?
Madonna Litta malt i ca. 1490, sannsynligvis av Leonardo da Vinci
Skulptur av Isis og Horus fra samlingen til The Metropolitan Museum of Art, NY. Foto: Public Domaine
I kunsthistorien er kvinner som ammer et uvanlig motiv. Ett unntak er alle maleriene av Maria som ammer Jesusbarnet. Ammemotivet ble først vanlig fra tidlig renessanse da det skulle legges mer vekt på Jesusbarnets menneskelighet. Den ammende Maria retter nesten alltid blikket mot barnet og hun er aldri naken.
Vi må lete lengre tilbake i kunsthistorien for å finne portrett av en ammende naken kvinne med blikket retter direkte mot betrakteren. I gammel Egyptisk mytologi finner vi dette motivet i skulpturer av den mektige kjærlighetsgudinnen Isis som ammer sin sønn Horus. Ektemannen kong Osiris var allerede drept og i underverdenen, der han ble gud for etterlivet, for overgang, oppstandelse og nytt liv. Mens gudene lever i sirkulær tid, i evigheten, peker navnet Horus mot lineær tid og viser til sønnens dødelighet. Isis klarte med sin omsorg og magiske krefter å beskytte Horus mot gjentatte drapstrusler fra de som ville hindre ham å innta tronen. I skulpturene fremstår Isis som hovedpersonen, i tillegg hadde hun en spesiell grunn til å rette blikket ut på omgivelsene.
I Vi Femina opplever jeg nettopp kvinnens direkte og åpne blikk mot publikum som essensielt. Ett mangfold av dialoger kan oppstå i møtet med alle som kommer hit med sin unike livserfaring.
Hamremoen har i Vi Femina tematisert noe grunnleggende og eksistensielt som vi sjelden eller kanskje aldri før har opplevd på denne måten i en kunstutstilling. Hamremoens iscenesettelse av kvinnene søker mot overskridelse av tid og sted, mot noe opprinnelig som angår menneskeheten. Noe vi alle er sammen om.
UNCONDITIONAL LOVE
“New-born child
out of living darkness
a spirit with God-like eyes
in waves
unstoppable”
- extract of poem of Gudrun Brauti Knutslid
How does one react to suddenly meeting 17 virtually naked women nursing their new-borns? It is precisely this artistic experience to which the photographer Anita Hamremoen invites the public in this exhibition. Several steps have been taken to ensure that the meeting is intimate, realistic and honest, and this is further enhanced by the credibility of the original photographs. Something immensely private and vulnerable is on display in a public place. The title of the exhibition, “Vi Femina”, is composed of two Latin words meaning “strength” and “woman” respectively. The vulnerability, warmth and protective gestures conveyed by the women add to the visualisation of the apparent contradiction - the power and strength of a woman. Once one ceases to be the focus of one’s own life, the possibility to become a stronger version of oneself comes into play.
Birth and breastfeeding are two examples of natural processes which are set in motion inside the body and which we ourselves are unable to control. They build a bridge between us and Mother Nature, enabling us to become aware of the human body in an entirely new way. The human body is both knowledgeable and capable. It stores suffering, pain and pleasure. It remembers and repeats. Bodies are social and symbolic. A new-born can symbolise a new beginning, a continuation and a future. Being physically close to a child can have a direct impact on both our body and on our awareness which is almost impossible to put into words. Gudrun Brauti Knutslid expresses her version of this indescribable phenomenon in the excerpt quoted from her collection of poems, entitled “Spirande frø.”
Everyone has at some point been new-born and completely dependent upon his or her carers. Scientific advances are continuously providing us with insights allowing us, inter alia, to discard Aristotle’s and Locke’s theory that a baby’s awareness is akin to a “tabular rasa”, i.e. a blank canvas. Plato believed that the human soul already existed somewhere in the universe before being sent into a human body here on Earth. Spinoza subsequently clarified that the soul, or awareness, does not only enter the head but indeed the entire body. All forms of life on Earth have a body, both in the plant kingdom and in the animal kingdom. The origin of life and the awareness of the human being remain unsolved mysteries. The above-mentioned philosophers argue in favour of widely diverging explanations. Science has to date uncovered that most of the new-born’s brain is pre-programmed and organised in such a way that it is ready and able to process sensory impressions, motor skills, feelings, and natural responses. Whilst new-borns are now known to be more prepared generally than previously assumed, human babies are entirely dependent upon being provided for over a longer period of time than most other mammals.
The cultural philosopher Bakhtin’s’ theory of dialogism signifies, amongst other things, that life itself is dialogical. The act of living involves engaging wholeheartedly in dialogue. Dialogue occurs not only through the spoken word, the written word, and the sharing of images, but also through body language such as touching, mimicking and looking. In each of the 17 portraits the women are standing in much the same position as each other, but the intensity of the series is halted when certain women turn their gaze towards their infant. This allows the public a pause in which to observe the relationship between the mother and child. In the remaining pictures the women’s gaze is focused directly on the beholder and invites dialogue. We become more aware of the woman than of the child and recognise that each woman has a story all of her own. A multitude of dialogues can ensue in this meeting place where everyone has their own unique life experience to share.
In art history, the image of women nursing their infants is unusual. All the paintings of Mary nursing the baby Jesus are an exception to this. The image of nursing first became normal from the early Renaissance period when religion became personified, and when the emphasis was placed on the humanity of the Infant Jesus in the paintings featuring the Virgin Mary. Whilst nursing, Mary always gazed upon her infant.
We must go further back in time in terms of art history in order to find a portrait of a naked woman nursing her infant whilst looking directly at the beholder. In Ancient Greek mythology we find this image in sculptures of the mighty goddess of love, Isis, nursing her son Horus. Her husband, King Osiris, had already been killed and now existed in the underworld, where he became god of the afterlife, of transition, of resurrection and of new life. Whilst the gods live in circular time, in eternity, the name Horus points towards linear time and shows the son’s mortality. With her loving care and magical powers, Isis managed to protect Horus from repeated death threats from those wishing to prevent him from acceding to the throne. In these sculptures, it is Isis who is depicted as the main character, and she also had a specific reason for gazing upon her surroundings. In other parts of Africa, it was typical to find groups of sculptures in which the mother and infant would be the central focal point, upscaled in size and towering over the rest of the figures surrounding herself and her infant. This is known as a symbol of continuity.
In “Vi Femina”, Hamremoen has succeeded in thematising something simple and existential which we have rarely, if ever, experienced in this manner in an art exhibition. It is not by chance that the exhibition is being displayed for the first time to coincide with the celebration of International Women’s Day. The common denominator is that all of the 17 women have given birth during the Covid-19 pandemic. They are depicted with their infants who are under their protection for a limited time only. Here we see unconditional love illustrated in a recognisable, yet surprisingly genuine way. Hamremoen’s staging of the women seeks to transcend time and place to show something which is fundamental to humanity. Something we are all aligned on.
Arnhild Sunnanå, art historian.