Queer

Should the sexuality of the artists matter to art historians? Discuss with reference to a particular example of art historical writing.

This essay will argue that it is infinitely unanswerable question of whether the sexuality of the artist should matter to art historians. It is subjective and dependent on the nature of the artist, the artwork, and the intentions of why the art historian does or does not want to discuss the artists sexuality. When an artwork includes subtle symbols that warrant further discussion of sexuality it can be considered necessary for the art historians to talk about the artists sexuality, but when the artwork does not have a clear springboard for the discussion of sexuality an art historian can still draw out the artists sexuality in relation to the artwork, but this doesn’t necessarily mean that they should. This essay will make specific reference to two examples of art historical writing, Abigail Solomon-Godeau essay ‘Is Endymion Gay? Historical Interpretation and Sexual Identities’, to discuss why artists sexuality should matter to art historians and Anna Chave’s ‘Agnes Martin: On and Off the Grid’ to discuss why the sexuality of an artist should not matter.

The sexuality of an artist should matter to art historians as without recognising the artists sexuality you fear having an incomplete understanding of an artwork and the artist. Sexuality, as a fundamental aspect of human identity, can influence an artist’s perspective, subject matter, and creative process and recognising and acknowledging an artist’s sexuality can contribute to a more comprehensive understanding of the motivations behind their work. Not recognising the presence of sexuality can lead to a void within the analysis and understanding. This is reinforced by the art historical writing of Abigail Solomon-Godeau, in her essay ‘Is Endymion Gay? Historical Interpretation and Sexual Identities’. Endymion, she argues, has had his sexuality obscured throughout historical interpretations as art historians have dismissed the inherent homoerotic undertones within the piece between the moral man and the divine being. Solomon-Godeau contends that they have traditionally focussed on aesthetic and symbolic interpretations of artworks depicting Endymion, often side lining the potential homoerotic aspects of the narrative.  Within the myth of Endymion, the homoerotic elements arise from the intimate and romantic nature of Endymion’s relationship with the moon goddess Selene. The ambiguity surrounding the gender of Selene, allowing her to be perceived as more androgynous contributed to a less conventional representation of desire that challenges heteronormative assumptions. This androgyny combined with the way Endymion is displayed for the viewer to gaze upon, his figure inviting a feeling of vulnerability and the replaces the traditional subject where a woman would be in this position with a man, and the active and passive roles of the feminine and masculine being reversed. We see this in S Solomon-Godeau essay where she writes, “Accordingly, while artists of the neoclassical epoch could freely move from male to female exemplars of ideal beauty, by the period of the July Monarchy it became increasingly clear that the sensual eroticised and idealised expression of the human body must be feminine. In art criticism, even as early as 1917, there is evidence of a certain ambivalence when the male body is perceived as excessively feminised.” This idealisation and feminisation of his body challenges heteronormative ideal and aligns more with homoerotic art. 

Through acknowledging the homoerotic elements, this not only provides a more accurate understanding of the artworks itself, but it also challenges heteronormative assumptions within art history. Heteronormativity refers to the societal norm that assumes heterosexuality as the default or normal sexual orientation. Solomon-Godeau critiques the heteronormative assumptions which includes failing to fully acknowledge any non-heteronormative presence within the painting.

On the other hand, autonomy of art from the artists biography, is a perspective that posits separating artworks from the artists personal life including their sexuality to have an unbiased and objective interpretation. Anna Chave in her essay ‘Agnes Martin: On and Off the Grid’, is an example of why sexuality should not matter as much to the art historian. Throughout the essay Chave attempts to make sense of Martin’s work but grounded its reasoning in Martin sexuality. Chave goes on to say that Martin’s use of grids and faint lines link to the invisibility of lesbians and making “oneself invisible was practically a reflexive strategy for a lesbian of Martin’s generation”. Martin lived a very secluded life in which throughout did not announce that she was lesbian. Chave making the link between Martin’s work and her sexuality and going as far to ask questions such as “What does a lesbian painting look like?” can be seen as intrusive and insensitive to the Martin’s privacy. It could also be argued that Chave as an art historian has the duty to unravel histories and livelihoods of artists and reveal how and why they create what they do. We can see that this is Chave intention as she states, “I do not imagine that we might thereby arrive at a sufficient reading of Martin’s work, but I do imagine the possibility for a newly, engagingly layered reading”. Even though it may be considered intrusive, isn’t it Chave’s duty as an art historian to cross boundaries and break limits in order to better understand the visual culture of the past. This also adds to the dialogue for the community of LGBTQ+ people to demonstrate that artists who were not heteronormative exist and had a presence within the art world. With artists like Michelangelo, it took a century to discover that the artist’s identity was not definitively heteronormative. This highlights the climate in which they were painting in and how they did not feel comfortable to express their true identities coming out. Therefore, while Chave may have been intrusive by revealing Martins sexuality, the culture and social environment in which Martin creates cannot be divorced from her identity, including her sexuality. Understanding a Martin’s sexuality has shed light on the challenges she may have faced, the societal norms she tried to navigate, and the impact of these factors on her artistic choices. This contextualisation can enhance the depth of art historical analysis.

In conclusion, the question of whether the sexuality of an artist should matter to art historians is inherently subjective. The recognition of an artist’s sexuality can provide a more comprehensive understanding of the motivations behind their work. Conversely, the argument for the autonomy of art for the artists biographies raises questions about potential intrusiveness and sensibility surrounding discussions of an artist’s personal life.