The Pregnant Form as Modern Art Form Research Paper

One of the earliest known pieces of artwork, the Venus of Willendorf dating from the Paleolithic era, is thought to be a pregnant woman, a shape that was repeated throughout the pre-historic world presumably as a sign of fertility and prosperity. However, with the advent of Christianity and the vilification of the female form, it became necessary to hide the woman’s body, especially the ‘grotesque’ form of the pregnant woman. With the increasing strength of science, and the necessary part women play in the actual creation of the child, the female form began to take on new importance in artistic works. This renewed interest in the pregnant body began appearing as early as the Renaissance era. Through the years, the way in which the pregnant form has been represented, misrepresented, and ignored has been a growing theme, coming into full flower in the modern art world in a variety of media. What is painted or sculpted and how this is done reveals much about the prevailing attitudes of the time period in which the artwork was created. From the fully clothed, questionable nature of early artists’ renditions of pregnant women to the fully nude and exposed form of today’s pregnant sculptures, the art of the pregnant form has definitely advanced onto the general world stage. To gain an understanding of how this change came about, it is necessary to learn more about some of the artists that have participated in the debate regarding how best to portray the multiple aspects of the pregnant woman – her impending motherhood, her swelling form, her newfound tenderness. Among these artists are Gustav Klimt, Egon Schiele, Lucien Freud, Marc Quinn and Ron Mueck. By looking at how these artists portrayed pregnant women as well as their motivations in doing so, we can begin to gain an understanding of how the cultural attitude toward pregnancy and the female form has changed.

Jan van Eyck is the earliest of these painters, having painted his “Giovanni Arnolfini and His Wife” in 1434. There has been a great deal of speculation regarding whether Arnolfini’s wife is pregnant as a first glance at her would seem to suggest. A perceptible bulge in the lady’s dress seems to give the impression that she is very pregnant. Her stance, with one hand, laid delicately, serenely, and protectively upon a protruding stomach and slightly rounded shoulders as if bearing the additional weight of a child further provides evidence of pregnancy. She is wearing a green dress as opposed to the traditional white, indicating this is not a virgin marriage, but instead one in full flower, full of life and ready to bloom. Green was also considered the color of hope, perhaps indicating that the woman hoped to have children for her new husband. The white of her hat is added to show the purity of the figure beneath it, assisted by the subtle visual resemblance to an angel’s halo. “On the bedpost is a tiny ornament of the statue of Saint Margaret, patron saint of childbirth” (“Arnolfini Portrait”, 2006). In the depiction of her in van Eyck’s painting, Jeanne de Chanany is shown as a demure, obedient woman. Her eyes are downcast and focused upon her husband although he faces the viewer. She stands deep within the space of the room, sheltered near the large, canopied bed and protected from the window by Giovanni. Her hand lies open in her husband’s hand, palm up and accepting of whatever he would have her hold. Other than her face and hands, nothing can be determined with certainty regarding her figure and form, so hidden is she within the folds of her clothing.

Rather than being focused on the concept of her pregnancy or hoped-for pregnancy, however, the focus of this painting is upon the sanctity and aspirations of the marriage itself. Van Eyck’s signature appearing on the back wall above the mirror has given many art historians reason to believe he was among the witnesses for this wedding and the painting was created to commemorate it. In addition, closer inspection of the painting indicates that Jeanne de Chanany is not actually pregnant but is instead wearing the voluminous clothing popular for the early Renaissance period. “Although many modern viewers mistakenly assume Giovanna is pregnant, art historians familiar with 15th-century painting point out the numerous amount of paintings of Saints in similar apparel and believe that an excessive amount of fabric was fashionable for women’s dresses at the time. (Hall, 1994. p. 105-6). The bulge is explained by the extra gather of material she holds in her hand at her waist in imitation or exaggeration of pregnancy. It is argued that the bride’s apparent pregnancy is a means of indicating her willingness to bear children rather than an actual pregnancy.

Jumping ahead to the 1900s, artist Alice Neel worked in relative obscurity for most of her life exploring the elemental question of what it means to be human, consistently highlighting the struggle taking place between the reality of the soul and the entrapment of the body. This is particularly evident in her depictions of pregnant women. Somewhat reminiscent of the Arnolfini painting, Neel’s “Blanche Angel, Pregnant” (1937) depicts an apparently pregnant woman clad all in green, the color of fertility and life. Unlike Van Eyck’s painting, though, there is no ambiguity provided regarding the lady’s condition. Blanche Angel sits tensely on a stool, her dress stretched tight over her rounded abdomen. Her arms reach straight down along her sides to end in hands tightly gripping the edge of her chair and her body swells to fill as much of the viewing space as possible. What can be seen of the background remains bare, with a hint that the wall behind the figure is unfinished, just as the process through which the figure is undergoing remains unfinished. The most expressive portion of the painting, however, is not the hopefulness of the sitter’s choice in dress colors or the tense way in which she is poised on the chair, but is instead the hopefully terrified expression on her face. The mouth smiles with a twist that is at once radiant and concerned while the eyes remain darkly shadowed and the forehead betrays a crease of worry.

This delicate balancing of joyful anticipation and frightening reality is also evident in “Pregnant Woman” (1971), depicting Neel’s daughter-in-law as she prepares to deliver twins. The distended, purple-tinged shape of the abdomen occupies the focal point while the nipples painted darkly red, denote a conception of pain and soreness. The expression on the woman’s face reinforces this idea. “A greenish light combines with the woman’s sad, hollow-eyed expression to suggest depression and, maybe, the misery of morning sickness” (Johnson, 1996). Neel suggests the responsibility for the woman’s condition is not hers alone to bear by placing an unfinished portrait of her son, the husband of the woman and father of the unborn children, in the painting, hanging on the wall behind the couch. “The man’s glum, watchful face, stacked directly above his wife’s head, adds to the mood of anxiety and exhaustion. Picturing the strain that pregnancy entails for expectant parents, the painting achieves archetypal poetry reminiscent of Picasso’s Blue Period” (Johnson, 1996).

In more recent years, the pregnant form has become a little better explored. Artist Kiki Smith, for example, created a series of sculptures by taking plaster casts of a pregnant friend’s belly as she progressed through the various stages of her pregnancy, hand forming the edges of these casts into a shield-like shape. The shield, such as the one found in “Untitled IV” (1990), is tinted to be the color of human skin and forces the viewer to focus on the physical reality of pregnancy rather than permitting the viewer to distance from it. “Smith largely avoids the politics of representation by foregrounding the phenomenological experience of the protruding belly and its topography. As one approaches the work, it appears less like a device for general bodily defense and more like a shield to protect a very particular and present belly” (Matthews, 1991). By including such intimate details as the protrusion of the baby’s body, the line of elastic of the model’s underwear, and other bodily details, Smith emphasizes the need to protect as well as the concept of pregnancy as a battle.

A modern sculpture of the pregnant form has been drawing a great deal of attention since its execution in 2005 and that is Marc Quinn’s “Alison Lapper Pregnant” designed to decorate Trafalgar Square’s fourth plinth until 2007. His reasoning behind the choice of subject, he told a BBC News reporter, was to balance the square’s feminine aspect, offsetting the image of Boudicca the warrior queen with that of Lapper, an image of modern-day heroism and protective motherhood. The three-and-a-half-meter high statue depicts Quinn’s disabled friend Alison Lapper at a time when she was 8 months pregnant. Lapper is a prominent artist herself who suffers from a chromosomal condition called Phocomelia which caused her to be born with no arms and shortened legs. Because of this birth defect, her mother rejected her, forcing her to grow up in a care home. Her subsequent rise to the position of a respected artist has many envisioning her as a champion of the many abilities disabled people possess. “It is a work about courage, beauty, and defiance, which both captures and represents all that is best about our great city. Alison Lapper pregnant is a modern heroine – strong, formidable, and full of hope. It is a great work of art for London and for the world” (London Mayor Ken Livingstone cited in Lewis, 2005).

The statue itself is quite breathtaking. The smooth texture of the marble seems impervious to outside barbs and influences, instead of reflecting the pure nature of its glassy matrix and revealing its inner beauty along every curve. Lapper sits proudly open to anyone’s gaze. Each of her shortened limbs is depicted in smooth detail with no attempt to hide or diminish them, yet also no attempt to accentuate them. Her stomach dominates, but her head is held high and proud, reflects a fierce determination and will to survive in the set features of her face. Her eyes hold firm and steady, focused on the future and ready to face it eye to eye with no holding back or giving in. Because of the lifelike quality of the sculpture, her softness is also conveyed through the marble. She is at once the soft and vulnerable mother-to-be and the proud warrior queen challenging any who cross her reflecting yet another shift in the presentation of the pregnant form – that of the strong woman capable of taking on the world and winning.

The treatment of the pregnant form by the early 1900s as reflected by artists like Neel begins to reflect the attitudes of the time – the woman’s important role in creating life and bringing it forward, the life and death risk she takes in tackling such an endeavor and the hope she has for the future. In bearing this risk, the pregnant woman is also facing the supreme heartbreak and anguish of losing her child before it is even born, as expressed in Schiele’s piece. A century and several medical advances later and the pregnant woman is now seen reclining on a bed, comfortably reflective and calmly anticipating the birth of her growing child as shown in Freud’s depiction. However, the 21st-century woman is also a strong woman, capable of taking on supreme challenges and overcoming them. The epitome of this strength is seen in the form of Quinn’s “Alison Lapper” as a courageous woman faces the near birth of her child with unflinching clarity and challenge, despite her lack of arms and ineffectual legs. The pregnant woman returns to her full power as expressed in the Venus of Willendorf with Mueck’s realistic, overly large sculpture of a pregnant woman. Offering absolutely no defenses and looking down upon all who visit her, she establishes her authority without a twitch and with only a gentle expression of calm waiting upon her face. The pregnant form is now strong and gentle, overwhelming and in need of protection, calm and excited, a paradox in totality and a symbol of women’s strength and resiliency.

Bibliography

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Lewis, Caroline. (2005). “Alison Lapper Pregnant Takes Plinth Position in Trafalgar Square.” 24 Hour Museum. Web.

Matthews, P. (1991). “Index of Selected Artists in the Collection.” Allen Memorial Art Museum.