Ariane Hughes
Unfriendly Reflection, 2020
Oil on linen
90 x 80 cm
Copyright The Artist
£ 3,000.00
Hughes’ paintings navigate the tenuous threshold of the subject/object dichotomy. Since its formal conception by Descartes, this dualistic way of considering being has coloured much of Western Art and Philosophy....
Hughes’ paintings navigate the tenuous threshold of the subject/object dichotomy. Since its formal conception by Descartes, this dualistic way of considering being has coloured much of Western Art and Philosophy. One can see just how ingrained this way of thinking is within the human psyche, in the way language is structured; subjects acting on objects. Through her blending of contemporary and traditional imagery, amalgamation of figuration and setting, Ariane Hughes challenges this rigid
paradigm, revealing it not to be so black and white.
The equation of the female body with passivity, subjection and at times victimisation is so commonplace within historical and contemporary visual cultures, that we no longer find it odd. Not only does the female nude (across both popular and high cultural arenas) reflect a definitively male psyche, it also perpetuates this notion. It shapes the collective sexual consciousness, teaching women to see themselves through male eyes. 'Unfriendly Reflection' attempts to shed light on this strange cultural phenomenon. The plasticky exposed breasts and almost comical nature of the mask that the figure on the right dons, mars what should be a sweet portrait of two women. This shrouds the piece with a bizarre, almost perverse air that encourages the viewer to reconsider why they immediately equate the female body as passive, an object of sexual desire and dominance. This sense of perversity is only heightened by the colour palette; somber yet gaudy, not quite right.
The masks depicted are from the Japanese Noh Theatre. The figure on the right dons a Ko-omte mask. Literally translated as ‘little mask’, it represents a young woman - connoting innocence, purity and youthfulness. Reflected back at her, behind the deep, almost menacing, red window pane is the Hannya mask. A jealous female demonic presence that displays an array of emotion. Depending on the angle of the mask it can either look threatening and angry or sorrowful and tormented, embodying the suffering of womankind. The gaze these two masks almost hold is a nod to the different stereotypes women are allowed to exist within and the facades and performances they have to keep up throughout their day to day. The sole human face wistfully meets the eye of the viewer, asking them where they stand, if they are okay with the scene that unfolds before them. The multiple gazes within the composition call the fixed male lens into question and heighten the subject/object tensions of the narrative.
paradigm, revealing it not to be so black and white.
The equation of the female body with passivity, subjection and at times victimisation is so commonplace within historical and contemporary visual cultures, that we no longer find it odd. Not only does the female nude (across both popular and high cultural arenas) reflect a definitively male psyche, it also perpetuates this notion. It shapes the collective sexual consciousness, teaching women to see themselves through male eyes. 'Unfriendly Reflection' attempts to shed light on this strange cultural phenomenon. The plasticky exposed breasts and almost comical nature of the mask that the figure on the right dons, mars what should be a sweet portrait of two women. This shrouds the piece with a bizarre, almost perverse air that encourages the viewer to reconsider why they immediately equate the female body as passive, an object of sexual desire and dominance. This sense of perversity is only heightened by the colour palette; somber yet gaudy, not quite right.
The masks depicted are from the Japanese Noh Theatre. The figure on the right dons a Ko-omte mask. Literally translated as ‘little mask’, it represents a young woman - connoting innocence, purity and youthfulness. Reflected back at her, behind the deep, almost menacing, red window pane is the Hannya mask. A jealous female demonic presence that displays an array of emotion. Depending on the angle of the mask it can either look threatening and angry or sorrowful and tormented, embodying the suffering of womankind. The gaze these two masks almost hold is a nod to the different stereotypes women are allowed to exist within and the facades and performances they have to keep up throughout their day to day. The sole human face wistfully meets the eye of the viewer, asking them where they stand, if they are okay with the scene that unfolds before them. The multiple gazes within the composition call the fixed male lens into question and heighten the subject/object tensions of the narrative.