Forged in the Fire
Photo: Olly Yung. © 2020 Matrons & Mistresses.
“Perhaps we have all been forged in the fire of 2020; may we all emerge in 2021 stronger and more free.”
– Eli Mathis Cheatham
Each time I sit down to write about 2020, my head immediately goes to the opening words of A Tale of Two Cities, and I hear what I imagine to be the narrator’s voice from Jill Santoriello’s musical version declare: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness...” Perhaps that is just as true of this last year as it was for Lucie Manette and all of Dickens’ characters.
Within this year we lost some incredible women, celebrated a bit of hard-earned progress, and acknowledged how far we have left to travel in our pursuit of equality. Sadly, the world said goodbye to pioneering artists such as Emma Amos, Luchita Hurtado, and Beverly Pepper. We mourned the loss of Seattle’s Virginia Wright but felt the exciting impact of another great matron as the inaugural auction of Ginny Williams’ collection became the first in Sotheby’s history to have works by women artists make up over 2/3 of the auction value. (This was indeed progress, though we cannot forget that works by women artists still constitute only 2% of the auction market.) And, though so many of us felt despair at hearing the news of Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s passing, we gave a deep sigh of relief as Kamala Harris became the first female, the first Black person, and the first person of Indian descent to be elected as the Vice President of the USA.
And through it all, artists created—and our quarantines and challenges were made far more bearable by the fruits of their labor.
© Beverly Pepper.
Ascensione, 2008
Beverly Pepper
For months at the beginning of this strange new world and even now to some degree, many of my friends have struggled to figure out where and how their works were to be shown as museums closed and galleries postponed or canceled exhibits. Though it was awkward at first, we all became more comfortable in front of our computer cameras as online viewing and purchasing took on a new meaning. Oh, how I missed experiencing art in person this last year—although I am so grateful for all the incredible Zoom programming that allowed me into artists’ studios and museums all around the globe.
Some of the most powerful art I saw this year was not shared by museums or galleries, but on the streets and in print. Brightly painted boards over shop windows, photos of women marching with homemade signs stating, “All mothers were summoned when George Floyd called out for his Mama,” and Amy Sherald’s hauntingly beautiful cover of Breonna Taylor for Vanity Fair… all called us to look at the devastating effects of systemic racism and police brutality and to fully realize our interconnectedness. For as Lilla Watson (Australian indigenous artist and women’s rights activist) so often said, “If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time, but if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.”
We have seen people show up for goodness and for each other. We have been reminded of the power of creativity and persistence. And, while we have often been separated physically, our interdependence is undeniable. For many, the worst moments in 2020 far outweighed the best, and the foolishness of some, especially those in positions of power, caused devastating consequences. And yet, within these last 365 days, there were moments of greatness—a returning to a more purposeful life, a coming together for what is right, and an admission of just how much many of us still have to learn.
As we look forward to 2021, I commit to sharing more voices and mediums with you. Also, I am excited to explore a few topics in more depth. By "excited” I mean “rather terrified,” but I am going to follow your lead and be brave. So, before I lose my nerve, let me tell you about a few articles that are percolating:
Photo: Jeff McLane/Luchita Hurtado/Hauser & Wirth. © Luchita Hurtado.
Untitled
Luchita Hurtado
© Emma Amos.
Tightrope
Emma Amos
Sexuality: When Eli Gray, my creative director, tried to settle my nerves before my first InstaLive by asking, ‘Really, what’s the most embarrassing thing that could happen?,’ I didn’t for a second think to list me accidentally sharing a screenshot from a certain tantric “yoga” site. So, I have decided to take that mishap as a sign to discuss topics that feel uncomfortable and push up against my fear of upsetting people. Female sexual desire and censorship seems like an excellent place to start—and Sophia Wallace and Eunice Golden the perfect artists to interview.
Spirituality: Together we will look to Harmonia Rosales’ paintings of God as a black woman—and the backlash that followed—to shine a light on the damage done when God is referred to only in the masculine pronoun and depicted as an old white man in the sky. In a similar vein, I will share the pilgrimage my Mutter photo by Julia Krahn has made from my closet to my bathroom and now to my office as I have begun to claim my spirituality more.
Body image and mental health: As I write this, I have just begun a two-week social media detox. While it certainly has its place and has helped many creatives, I find Instagram confusing and frustrating, and well, I seem to have developed a relationship with it rather similar to my scale. In case I’m not the only one, I will share what my therapist always says when I have fallen down the rabbit hole of weighing myself: ‘Eli, stop with the numbers... you, my friend, have far more important things to do.’
This shall be the year I stop measuring my worth.
So, I will call on friends such as Helen Downie, Kennedi Carter, and Zoë Buckman to share their wisdom on how they have learned to see social media as a way to share their art—not as a way to validate it. And, if I still can’t find equilibrium, then I will hand over social media to someone who does not share that struggle and remind myself that the mission of Matrons & Mistresses will not suffer because a woman was willing to say what she needed and chose her truth over societal pressure. In fact, I will trust that M&M will be strengthened because of it.
Finances: One place where I choose not to ‘stop with the numbers’ is around finances. So often, creatives are told we are bad with money. For some, financial awareness may be a skill that has yet to be honed, but for others, this old story could not be further from the truth. I look forward to learning from artists about their relationships with money, as I heal my own. I could not think of a better book to start with than Bari Tessler’s The Art of Money.
Photo: Turner Carroll Gallery. © Judy Chicago.
Study for Flaming Fist
Judy Chicago
I am honored to continue with you on this journey of art and self-discovery. I hope that whenever it feels right, you will share your experience, strength, and hope with us. There is so much we can learn from each other.
In closing, I have thought a lot about fire this last year: its ability to bring great destruction (like we so sadly saw in California), but also its power to burn away that which no longer serves. As we step into 2021, I am reminded of Judy Chicago’s Study for Flaming Fist which graced the catalogue cover of Turner Carroll Gallery exhibition Burned: Women and Fire. Perhaps we have all been forged in the fire of 2020; may we all emerge in 2021 stronger and more free.
In love and light,
Eli Mathis Cheatham