Throughout his career, John Kacere devoted his attention almost solely to idealized and highly sexualized depictions of the midsections of the female body, clothed in revealing lingerie. Originally an Abstract Expressionist, Kacere adopted a photorealist style from the 1960s onwards, although he rejected the term as a description of his work. His larger-than-life images of the female form—usually lying on their sides in a horizontal picture plane—have drawn criticism from feminists, prompting Kacere to reply: “Woman is the source of all life; the source of regeneration. My work praises that aspect of womanhood.”
Frances Goodman is a multimedia artist born in Johannesburg, South Africa. Working with objects commonly associated with female identity, such as acrylic nails, false eyelashes, and jewelry, Goodman explores how their habitual usage evolves into obsession and neuroses. Her humorously dark sculptures and installations suggest how self-conscious anxieties play a disproportionate role in governing women’s lives.
The repetitive and meticulous gestures used to make her works mimic the repetitive and meticulous labors of nail salons and beauty maintenance regimes. By employing these materials and efforts Goodman’s work draws attention to popular culture definitions that narrow the possibilities of female identity to extremes of consumption, aspiration, obsession, desire and anxiety.
The Guardian has a nice survey on their site today; asking whether you can tell if you are reading a passage from a male or female author.
For example, who wrote it…
“At once, though it was night and the way was lonely, she left the hut and walked to the next village, where there was a hedge of cactus. She brought back leaves of cactus, cut them into strips and hung a strip over every door, every window, every aperture through which an evil spirit might enter the hut. But the midwife said, ‘whatever you do, this boy will eat up his own mother and father.’”
For all those people that want a little something extra with their coffee in the morning, now you get Mr. Espresso (which by the way, where did their values go?) served to you in a “C” cup by bikini clad Baristas. The sad part is, it’s working. Since dressing down the female staff to their bikinis, the coffee shop has doubled the revenue since it’s predecessor, Island Java. If you’re worried about the female staff, they are satisfied, they make a whole whopping $50 in tips now per shift. And as for their safety, the owner sits in his truck across the street and watches the drive-through all day. Don’t you worry, nothing exploitive or creepy going on here. Morning Ritual anyone?