Mid-March Give-Away Contest

Three cheers for Women's History Month! We're giving away a copy of Women Artists at the Millennium, edited by Carol Armstrong and Catherine de Zegher, to celebrate. In Women Artists at the Millennium, artists including Martha Rosler and Yvonne Rainer reflect upon their own varied practices and art historians discuss the innovative work of such figures as Louise Bourgeois, Lygia Clark, Mona Hatoum, and Carrie Mae Weems.

Answer the question below for a chance to win a copy of the book. Submit your answers as a comment on this post, and you will be entered into a drawing to win. The deadline to enter the contest is March 22nd, and we will notify the lucky winner on March 23rd.

Which female artist most inspires you and why?

Comments

[Hangarcreative]

Evelyn De Morgan

[sophia]

Naomi Fisher.
Very bright and skilled and of great, strong energy, reminiscent of many feminist greats like Ana Mendieta.

[Lori Kent]

Pipilotti Rist...

[Ida Momennejad]

Marina Abramovic.
She crosses the boundaries of experience and knowledge in her work. In one of her 'Rhythm' performances she takes two different pills with opposite effects and sits there for the audience to observe the effect of a simple pill on her body. One paralyzes her while she's awake, the other is an antipsychotic that renders her mentally absent. I find that a fascinating cross over from the field of knowing what a pill does, and offering the reflective chance to encounter a first person experience in a performance.

[julie d]

Sophie Calle
Now, as more of a researcher than artist, I see her work in a more ethnographic way.

[Jule]

Louise Bourgeois. I find her works and her personality fascinating and empowering.

[lizzy marshall]

Lygia Clark

[LawD]

Grandma Moses - she reminds us that the best just might be 'yet to come'!

[Gianni]

Pipilotti Rist

[Sara]

I wouldn't be able to name a favorite for all time. But one female artist that has resonated with me since college is Eva Hesse. For me, studying minimalist art was stultifying; I understood the intellectual appeal of it, but felt unmoved by the robot-like repetition of cold steel and simple shapes. Then came Eva, speaking the same language of repetition and simplicity but with softer materials and a willingness to let the mathematics of gravity and chance have their say. She made art in materials that sagged, drooped, melted. As an undergrad, I imagined her drooping, draping fibers as the unravelling of a too-male and too-tightly-bound minimalist tradition.