Vol. 6 Feminist - jimlockey.co.uk

Greetings Reader
Can it really have been more than 12months ago that the first issue of Duck & Cover arrived, once just a glint
the eye of it’s founders, born of sweat, tears and surreptitiously photocopied pages?
Yes. It can. Because here we are (more than) a year later, welcoming you to volume six of
DUCK & COVER
The Feminist Issue
Duck & Cover is a non-profit, free magazine for the artist, providing an interdisciplinary view of each month’s
given theme through the writing, musing and mark making of our many and varied contributors.
Inside these paper pages you will find Riot Girls, performance art, Cixous and much more. In fact, a whole 20
pages packed full of feminist fun. So sit back, relax and enjoy….
Jim & Katy
Editors
For more information or to contribute you can use these helpful addresses
Email: [email protected]
Web: www.duckandcovermag.co.uk
Duck & Cover Magazine
Vol 6: Feminism
March 2010
Editors
Jim Lockey
Katy Norton
Contributors
Jim
Lockey
Katy Norton
makes
words
www.jimlockey.co.uk
is an artist www.katynorton.co.uk
Alex Brew Alex Brew is a feminist activist and artist
who walked the streets for months looking for men to
photograph. She’s interested in the skewed power dynamics between the sexes. Find more at www.alexbrew.co.uk
Ruth Geldard The work of Ruth Geldard, investigates gender
through the lens of evolutionary theory. Based in the SouthEast she is currently working towards an M.A. in Fine Art.
Claire Haslam is an artist and writer based in east
London. She is currently studying Art and Politics at Goldsmiths and making work which intersects and explores the space between these two
schemes for making meaning. www.clairehaslam.com
Kiri Little
Is a writer and music journalist.
Jessica Voorsanger explores celebrity and popular culture in
her work. Originally from New York she is now based in London and has shown extensively www.jessicavoorsanger.com
Contents
4. Revolution, Girl style, Now! - Kiri Little
7. woman.woman (Re-mix Stigmata ch.10 Cixous) - Ruth Geldard
8. How do I look in this, on this, doing this, with this…? Do I look like a feminist? - Alex Brew
10. Dislocation- Ruth Geldard
12. The Nag’s Head - Claire Haslam
14. Asking For It - Alex Brew
17. Performance Instruction - Katy Norton
20. Feminist Wordsearch - Jessica Voorsanger
“Revolution girl style now!”
In 1991, around the time of the International Pop Underground Convention in the Pacific Northwest of America,
an impassioned new wave of feminism was born. Disillusioned by the male-dominated, often misogynist, world of
punk music, a group of women decided it was time to be
seen and heard. They called themselves ‘riot grrrls’.
Many female-fronted bands were established during
this time, and the term ‘Riot Grrrl’ became synonymous
with the music. However, as an intrinsically political
movement, this scene was just as much about activism in
other ways - the production of zines (key ones including
Jigsaw and Girl Germs), and the co-ordination of gatherings and festivals such as Pussystock.
Seminars and workshops were held on topics such as
sexual abuse and self-defence, and previously taboo
issues like rape, sexuality and abortion were brought to
the fore for discussion. The aim was to build stronger
communities of women, encourage communication about
shared experience and, ultimately, to empower.
The key proponents early in the Riot Grrrl revolution
included Kathleen Hanna and Tobi Vail of Bikini Kill, and
Allison Wolfe and Molly Neuman of Bratmobile. Through
the production of various zines and via their music,
these two seminal bands incited others to join in and
themselves take action – this was not about playing the
most technically capable guitar; it was about setting up a
garage band, playing what you could, getting your voice
heard and challenging the status quo in the process.
The roots of Riot Grrrl music were firmly in punk. Key
influences included Patti Smith, The Slits, The Raincoats,
Joan Jett, The Plasmatics, The Au Pairs, Frightwig,
Poison Girls, Poly Styrene of X-Ray Spex, and Debora Iyall
of Romeo Void.
And it was not only influences from the field of music
that were important, but feminist writings and strong
female voices in general - from performance art (e.g.
Carolee Schnemann), journalism (e.g. Ellen Willis) and the
world of zines (e.g. Vaginal Davis).
Riot Grrrl’s bands stuck fiercely to independent records
labels such as Slim Moon’s Kill Rock Stars, Calvin Johnson’s K Records and, later, Donna Dresch’s Chainsaw
Records, with a few signing to Sub-Pop. The impact of this
time in the early 90s on music is unequivocal in many of
Kill Rock Stars’ releases right up to the present day.
For example, without Riot Grrrl, it would be very
difficult to imagine Beth Ditto and Gossip sounding
as they do. Their ethos also owes a lot to Riot Grrrl,
from the DIY philosophy to the outspoken voicing of
opinion on controversial topics. They continue the
work of promoting positive self-image and gender
equality.
As Ms Ditto herself puts it “I don’t want the world, I
only want what I deserve” - a message which would
have fitted perfectly with the beliefs of those early
riot grrrls.
Ditto is, however, a more image-conscious, mediafriendly little riot sister. In contrast, the women
of the original scene felt so misrepresented by the
popular press (who dubbed them man-haters and
“angry young women”) that they called for a “media
blackout”. The stance for equal rights, for not
being side-lined and for not being ashamed of what
happens to be between your legs continued. But the
refusal to speak to the media had the effect of limiting information further, resulting in even greater
distortion in what was fed to the public about the
movement and its intended purpose.
The Riot Grrrl movement, however short-lived
and small in size, has had a significant impact for
women in the music industry. Women with strong
opinions voiced loudly are now more visible in the
mainstream. It is more acceptable for women to
look different – from each other - and not fit only a
certain patriarchal stereotype or societally-imposed
standard.
Sadly, Riot Grrrl may also be to blame for watereddown offerings such as the Spice Girls and their trite
“girl power”. The introduction of successful female
role models to an ever younger audience can only
be a positive thing. But this was a pseudo-feminist
banner waved in a socially acceptable fashion. It
was not backed by political conviction or intelligently-expressed opinion, and was done by women
marketed as sex objects, and wearing commensurate
clothing. Despite being a bastardisation of the initial,
staunchly feminist intent, even this may not have
been possible without Riot Grrrl.
Kiri Little
The Beginners Guide
“BECAUSE I believe with my wholeheartmindsoulbody that girls constitute a revolutionary soul force that can,
and will, change the world for real.”
This is one of the principles of the Riot Girl Manifesto, as penned by Kathleen Hanna of Bikini Kill, who became
something of a ‘poster girl’ for the movement as a whole.
After working together on the zine Bikini Kill, Kathleen Hanna, Tobi Vail and Kathi Wilcox formed a band of the
same name, where they were joined by Billy Karen.
Known for controversial songs such as I Like Fucking and Suck My Left One (perhaps one of the most iconic
songs of the movement, its lyrics about incest), they eschewed major record labels and the mainstream press.
The band themselves, and many fans, would sometimes daub themselves, in lipstick or black marker, with words
such as ‘slut’ or ‘rape’, in an attempt to reclaim words used against women and confront taboos. Women were
invited to the front at their shows.
Vail, Karen and Wilcox (with Molly Neuman of Bratmobile) are now The Frumpies, whereas Hanna went on to
form Le Tigre.
Factoid: Kathleen Hanna is responsible for coining the title of Nirvana’s breakthrough song Smells Like Teen
Spirit when she spray-painted ‘Kurt smells like Teen Spirit’ on his wall. She was, at the time, in a relationship
with Dave Grohl, Vail in a relationship with Kurt Cobain. ‘Teen Spirit’ was the name of the deodorant which Tobi
Vail wore.
“We’re not anti-boy, we’re pro-girl.” (Molly Neuman)
Another key force in the Riot Grrrl movement was Bratmobile. After collaborating on a zine called Girl Germs
(later to become one of their song titles), Allison Wolfe and Molly Neuman formed a band as a response to the
male-orientated grunge music scene. They initially played as a duo, before adding Erin Smith (responsible for
popular zine Teenage Gang Debs).
Their aim was to create feminist punk rock – which they did in a sassy, poppy, witty fashion. Their first album
Pottymouth is a key one in the Riot Grrrl canon, and contains a great cover of The Runaways’ Cherry Bomb.
They split in 1994, in part due to the media scrutiny of Riot Grrrl. After each working with various other outfits,
they reformed in 1999 to tour with Sleater-Kinney (whose members were also fairly central to Riot Grrrl).
Allison Wolfe was also involved in organising the first Ladyfest in 2001.
Kiri Little
woman.woman (Re-mix Stigmata ch.10 Cixous)
secret. Secret (In French: secree.) secretly secreted secret. secret well
passage opens, passage passage passage engendering passage. passage passage
Dark Gorge
primitive space
claivoyance clairvoyance
other world. Just next door.
fragile region fragile region
close black interior softness
Steht. Lightest Extasy
other light
sighted soul
emotion our emotions
nostalgia
docile sensibility
feel. feel
grace grace
engender engender engender
letting go
gestation giving birth given birth full term womb womb nine months mid-wife
Quickening
thinking body body entire body corporal body body our body body to body
Internal cavity of good fortune
burrows
deep mysterious internity {iaternite}. Inside, inside Internity
all over at once
It enters you
childing
re-beginnings new beginnings creating newborns
reciprocally
newborn word newborn word
grows {emit} grows grows
mother and daughter, daughter words {les mots filles}
mother mother
old women who engender. Language is an old woman
submission submission
Ruth Geldard
How do I look in this, on this, doing this, with this…? Do I look like a feminist?
Titillation: to excite (another) pleasurably, superficially or erotically
Capitalism: dominance of private owners of capital and production for profit.
In 1974 in a text called ‘Istory of a Girl Pornographer’ Carolee Schneemann wrote: ‘I was permitted to be an
image but not an image-maker creating her own self-image.’ One year later the artist would become renowned for
standing naked on stage, painting her body with mud before slowly pulling a scroll from her vagina and reading
it. By 2009 we are over-run with images by women, of women, for women. But are we capable of changing our
self-image or are we just adding to the ever-expanding vat of images of women in this, on this, doing this, with
this…?
A successful genre with galleries has been women’s use of parody, fakery and exaggeration to display women’s
realities. In the catalogue to the exhibition ‘New Contemporaries’, female artists are said to have subverted the
usual images of women by outrageously exaggerating the fakery of being a woman. The logic goes that once we
notice what’s happening to us, we’ll choose a more ‘authentic’ (less image-led?) path.
The strategy isn’t new. From 1977-80 Cindy Sherman presented images of herself as actresses from various genres – making obvious the act and performance of being female. Later she used prosthetics to unnerve the viewer.
According to the New Contemporaries catalogue, in 2000, k r buxey in ‘A Feeling’s Coming Over Me’:
parodies a woman from a Japanese porn genre – bukkake – in which groups of men take it in turn to masturbate
over the woman’s face. By flirting outrageously with the camera, she creates a grotesque moment of excess, the
fakery of which is underlined when – still on camera – she dispassionately wipes her face clean*
The advantage (for the artist, gallery, dealer, media and audience) is that the female body is still being shown in
galleries and might even be titillating. But what makes it remarkable according to the critics is that it now has
the ability to provide a dose of analysis. But does it really? Did anyone else spot that parodying a porn movie by
flirting ‘outrageously’ with the camera seems like a strange strategy given that porn stars are already highly
valued for their fakery and flirtation?
To what degree would you have to exaggerate the sexualisation and commodification of women’s bodies to make
it grotesque to the point of discomfort and create a shift in consciousness? The grotesque exaggeration of women’s sexual bodies became embedded in our culture over thirty years ago when breast implants, lip augmentation
and labia trimming (not apparently the same as genital ‘mutilation’) became mainstream. In art, it is Orlan who
from 1990-1993 asked to be nipped and tucked in ‘9 surgical performances’ filmed and broadcast in institutions
including the Centre Georges Pompidou. In the mainstream media Jordan is filmed, photographed, broadcast and
published across all major screens and newspapers in the UK.
And 22,041 cosmetic procedures are conducted on us – not to mention the estimated 60,000 Brits who travel
abroad for cheaper packages. Back in the 1990s, we laughed at jokes about the uber-rich who got their comeuppance (for being rich) when their breast implants exploded on aeroplanes. We watched with sick obsession
as Lolo Ferrari - Eurotrash star’s - breasts grew and grew until she died from (the weight of?) her enormous
breasts. But the grotesquery of all this – shown through ‘art’ or other media - does nothing to subdue the £-making or the cutting. The men and women are drooling.
How can anything art produces possibly out-grotesque that reality? Vanessa Beecroft multiplies the objectified
image of a woman by thirty by standing that number of women in a gallery. If the viewer has already dissected
the way women’s bodies are polished up and used maybe she’ll get it. She might point to how unnerving it is to
be faced with dozens of white, skinny, waxed, nude or semi-nude women (usually wearing at least high heels,
sometimes a bra, rarely pants) staring blankly at you. Or the viewer may just see a gallery replica of the images
of women she already analyses and pores over on a daily basis in her magazines or her brother’s magazines or
pretty much wherever else she happens to cast her eye? Think the blank stares of advertising and fashion shots
and the fashion photography of Hel$mut Newton who brought S&M shots to French Vogue. In an online interview
he brags: ‘I was a contributor for Playboy for about twenty years. My work was even too risky for Playboy. They
asked me - please do something for us… but nothing as kinky as what you do for French Vogue.’ Images commissioned by women, of women, for women.
In a cultural environment where a pneumatic drill inside a vagina is a funny comic strip, where real war photos
taken by soldiers are swapped for free porn on sites, where it is normal to associate the degradation of women
with pleasure, where millions of anorexic women and girls are already making their own dark, painful statement,
how can any artist make it dark enough, exaggerated enough, grotesque enough to ever come close to parody?
Aren’t we simply unable to escape the sticky trap of seeing ourselves through other’s eyes as we suck on the
addictive safety of the status quo? As John Berger said in 1972, in ‘Ways of Seeing’:
Men look at women. Women watch themselves being looked at. This determines not only most relations between
men and women but also the relation of women to themselves. The surveyor of woman in herself is male: the
surveyed female. Thus she turns herself into an object – and most particularly an object of vision: a sight.
It seems to me that rather than nudging our realities forward by keeping our eyes locked on ourselves we have
done little more that taken over the graft of pushing the merry-go-round. And as we beg… just another image,
just another shot…. I wonder if anyone really even gives a fuck.
Alex Brew
Alex Brew helped found FemAdLib Kolektiv, a group of feminist artists and activists creating a space for explicitly feminist work. The group recently performed a city intervention where Mark-It & Sons, a respectable family
business selling women for centuries, would have a Buy One Get One Free (BOGOF) sale. In the making of the
intervention questions around parody, exaggeration, titillation and the grotesque were argued. The group created
visions of real women stacked high on shelves and in bargain basement bins. But when ‘customers’ arrived at
the Royal Exchange, rebel women were already climbing the shop. They had ‘shut it down’. The intervention was
part of the Two Degrees Festival organized by Arts Admin and The Laboratory of Insurrectionary Imagination
with Arts Council funding.
After 6 months working almost exclusively on the Kolektiv, she is planning to take more of a back seat and
focus attention on her own practice. Previous work includes a series of images called ‘Asking For It’ that have
been shown at Aberdeen University as part of the conference ‘Ending Feminist Futures?’ in 2009 and Ladyfest
London 2008 for which she had reviews in DIVA, Lesbilicious and An Schlage. She has had her work published in
the International Feminist Journal of Politics. She still gives a fuck but is in therapy to work out why.
10
11
The Nag’s Head
Sonia fumbles under the pillow for her mobile. The alarm is set on such a grating tone,
she keeps meaning to change it. 1 o’clock already. She rolls over and exhales loudly,
thinking she has to do the shopping before work. She’ll have to get change for the
bus first, there was no chance last night. Next to the bed her pink chair is piled up
with layers and layers of clothes. She started off trying to keep work separate but in
the end there was no need, she just started wearing the work underwear like normal
underwear, preferring her knee-length boots to go to the shop rather than trainers.
You don’t feel properly dressed. Sonia doesn’t think about these things.
She swings her feet out of bed and pushes the duvet away, sits up. She stretches her
arms above her head, looking in the mirror opposite. It’s set into the wardrobe door,
she’s putting aside for a proper Ikea one, cheaper than Argos (since she shelled out
for Barbados). She sees herself in the white scoop-neck negligé, the white flower hairclips in her hair. But no, it needs to be baby-girl, not Island Barbie. Maybe bunches
would work, ribbons. Definitely the stilletoes, not boots. The outfit will work much
better since her ‘new girls’, as she likes to think of them, it’ll look good without a bra
underneath. Not just good – quality. Elegant. As she looks at her reflection Sonia’s
eyes dance across her hair, her chest, her midriff as she unconsciously straightens
and holds her tummy in. She lowers her arms and twirls her fingers in her hair. This
is the best angle, yes.
She stands up, feeling the ache in her thighs from last night. Sunday, it’ll be quieter.
She can sit down mostly. She gets into her dressing gown (white, satin), opens the
curtains partway. It’s plain grey, looks a bit drizzly. Makes shopping a pain in the
arse. In the hallway she shouts down the stairs to her nan, she’ll get the kettle on and
have a cup of tea ready for after Sonia’s shower.
Jo leans in to the mirror, she’ll need to pluck those eyebrows properly today. They
need a bit of shape. She decides to have a proper pamper shower, get out a new razor
blade and the leave-in conditioner. It’s not about washing Jason off, he’s fine, she’s
just in the mood to have an overhaul. Feel new afterwards. Jason’s nice anyway, he
hasn’t stopped paying for drinks and coming in regularly since she first slept with
him. It doesn’t matter that he has a dance off the other girls as well, he’s a gent, of
course he does. He doesn’t monopolize. He’s not like other men. Not like that wanker
who ran off with her bra, him and his stupid, guffawing mates. They always think
they’re the first ones to come up with it, like kids at school quoting ‘four-eyes’ over
and over, generation after generation. Some men think they’re so clever. But Jason
wouldn’t do that, he’s civilized, respectful. He gave her a tenner to buy a new bra.
Even Cassie was sympathetic, and she’s normally hard as nails.
It’s Jo’s habit to run through the events of the previous shift, in fact she does it
even when it’s been her night off. She likes to feel ordered, organized. Mentally. She
does it in private, in the bathroom, getting ready and putting on her make-up. She
pops the new razor blade out of its packet, chucking the plastic in the bathroom bin.
In the shower she rubs baby oil all over her legs and round the edges of her pubic
hair, that needs a tidy as well. Nice and smooth, no chafing. But her period’s started,
she’ll have to get more tampons. And the black stocking set for tonight, no light
colours. Asking for trouble. The nice knickers will need a handwash actually, there’s
not really time to put a load on now. As the water starts to cool slightly she wrings
out her hair and steps out. She smoothes her legs, checks her toenail polish, dries off
and puts her face on.
12
Serena puts on Coldplay, that nice first one, and digs out her jeans and clean underwear. She checks her phone, but no message from Tim. He said he might come in
tonight, but he’s one of those guys who likes to talk and keep his options open. She
can definitely get him, wonders if he’ll pay. He splashes his money around – how
much should she say? Too much and they think they can fuck you in the arse
without asking, you’ve got to judge them right. She’ll think about it later. She moves
around the room grabbing up her things and shoving everything into her shoulder
bag. She picks up her little white plastic purse and pulls the notes out to have a
final count. Not bad, especially considering the new girls from Spearmint Rhino’s
were in last night and there’s too many of them. From Dave’s point of view they’re
a great idea, with their extensions and matching stripper heels and Ann Summers
outfits. It’s not his problem if the girls don’t make as much, that’s not why he’s in
business. He definitely likes to think he’s a hard business type just because he runs
the Nag’s Head and his wife has a black eye, but Serena saw him getting off a train
once at the station and she hasn’t forgotten how ordinary he looked. Just a normal
man with bags under his eyes and no taste in clothes, white hair in a weird cut.
Piggy little eyes, blank. She also hasn’t forgotten the time he pretended not to have
a record of how many shifts she’d done on the bar and refused to pay her. But still,
where else do you get to dress like this, with such good hours?
Maxine puts out her hand for the bus, as it splashes up to the bus shelter. Full
of kids in matching uniforms, nowhere to sit. This is the worst time to start a
shift, no peace. She ends up feeling crabby when she arrives and then it gets really
hard to keep up a smile. A seat comes free and she slides into it, pretending not to
notice the man in the suit who was already heading for it. She turns away to the
window, mouth pursed. No point looking at their faces anymore, there’s no good
way round recognizing a customer in public. Them recognizing you. The nice ones
or the regulars are worst, they always feel so entitled to ask you questions about
where you’re going, what you’re doing, wanting your number. The energy it takes
to keep flirting and saying no. Their eyes going up and down, worst if you’re out in
an old jumper and they think they’ve snuck a glimpse into your private world. Eyes
on your tits because they’re so used to looking at you like that, it makes no odds if
there’s nothing to see.
The man in front has the same hair as her brother, but it won’t be him. Sitting
in her skinny jeans and furry little jacket, with the nice gold shoulder bag today,
Sandra suddenly thinks of him saying she wouldn’t make it as a dancer, she didn’t
have the figure for it. He hadn’t meant it unkindly, she thinks, just a statement of
fact. But he’d only been to those out of town places where they all look the same,
he didn’t know about the dark little doorways and blacked out windows in the other
sort of place. And now she thinks of Dave proudly telling someone (who was it?)
how each of his girls is unique, wear what they want, they’re authentic. Personal
style, personal service. He’d seemed proud, saying that about the girls. The bus
jumps to a stop outside Savers, and Lea pushes her way out onto the wet pavement.
She crosses the road and walks up past McDonald’s to the Nag’s Head, ducks into
the doorway.
Claire Haslam
13
Asking For It
I wanted to find out why women don’t tend to objectify men. I follow my fear into situations of potential male violence and disapproval: situations where passivity, acquiescence and submission feel safer or more appealing than
taking control. I approach men in public places – outside offices, pubs, cafes and gentlemen’s venues often in
London’s square mile. I sometimes ask them to fully or partially undress in a more private space – an alleyway,
a car park, or back at their place or mine. The vulnerability of both myself and of the man I photograph comes
into sharp focus as a negotiation between the sexes begins and power blurs. The project - ‘Asking For It’ - is a
photography, sound and text exhibition. It illuminates the risks women take everyday in a culture that skews the
power relations between the sexes to the extreme.
As the project went on, I wrote notes about it that became snippets to accompany the images. They were stabs at
describing what happened to me that year.
“I stopped pandering to him. I stopped playing by the rules of flirtation and submission. And started feeling I was
asking for it.”
“If I went out dressed up. Got trashed. Got in a taxi with a stranger or acquaintance. No-one would try to stop
me. These are just the everyday risks women take.”
“He follows me into a nearby alley. I pop the question: Take your shirt off for me? I’m kneeling, his crotch too
close for focus as he approaches and says no.”
“Submission is the real suicide mission.”
The images show both domestic and private scenes of nudity bringing to mind a close relationship or one-nightstand and yet these are strangers or acquaintances. No sex is on offer, no money exchanged. The images confuse
our understanding of who’s at risk of domestic violence and rape - and why.
Alex Brew
14
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Dead Word Search
Jessica Voorsanger
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Casper the Friendly Ghost
Starry Night
Scooby Doo
The Shining
Blithe Spirit
The Ghost and Mrs Muir
Ghostbusters
A Christmas Carol
Sleepy Hollow
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18
19
Feminist Word Search
Jessica Voorsanger
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Nine to Five
Thelma and Louise
Fried Green Tomatoes
The Piano
The Stepford Wives
Erin Brockovich
Even Cowgirls Get the Blues
Kill Bill
Orlando
G.I. Jane
Revenge of the Stepford Wives
20
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Working Girls
She's the Man
The Colour Purple
Yentl
Private Benjamin
Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore
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