At 94, This Jewish New York Artist Paints Herself Naked

ed note–we could go on ad nauseum about the manner in which the Jews have always acted as a corrosive force in Gentile societies and the manner in which they have used sex, pornography, intoxicants, etc as weapons in weakening the moral cohesiveness of the host societies they occupy, but instead, we’ll let someone else have the floor for the moment–

‘The customs of the Jews are base and abominable, and owe their persistence to their depravity. They are the worst of rascals among other peoples, and towards every other people unlike them they feel only hate and enmity. As a race, they are prone to lust and among themselves, nothing is unlawful. Those who are converted to their ways follow the same practices, and the earliest lesson they receive is to despise the gods, to disown their country, and to regard their parents, children, and brothers as of little account…’ Roman Historian Tacitus

Haaretz

In her later years, Joan Semmel has seen success like never before. At 93, with a new exhibition at New York’s Jewish Museum, this expert on feminine sexuality and the male gaze tells us how it’s best to accept yourself at any age.

Joan Semmel’s loft in Manhattan’s SoHo neighborhood sits two floors above the lines snaking outside Prada and Chanel. The artist, 93, muffles the chatter of the tourists with the sound of the radio as she steps up to the canvas.

Four hours a day, at least, she stands and paints her nude body, a daily routine for over 50 years, upending tradition with hyperreal representation.

Her brushstrokes chronicle her aging body without apology: breasts that have softened with time, generous curves, thinning pubic hair. White hair frames her face, as fine lines adorn her cheeks.

‘Women as they age are considered something you can simply throw away, whereas men, the older they get, are perceived as more powerful,’ says the Jewish American artist and feminist icon. ‘The presence of women in the public mind is still dependent on their sexual desirability. Once women are no longer considered desirable, they are no longer valued as human beings.

‘For the first time in history there is an enormous cohort of people alive today who are aging. So many of us, myself included, are still functional into older age – we’re not just vegetating, waiting to die. This is an important factor in how aging will be perceived.’

A painting hanging over her dining table shows her nude young body from the perspective of a woman looking down at herself. Semmel developed this technique in the ’70s as a deliberate refusal to perpetuate the tradition of female nudes painted from ‘the male gaze.’

‘I was angry at the commonplace saying that women are incapable of being great artists,’ she says. ‘I wanted it to be clear that my painting had been painted by a woman. The most direct way was to paint in a way where, when somebody is looking at the painting, they see it through the eyes of the artist.’

In most of Semmel’s work, the head is absent. The body is alone on the canvas. ‘I was interested in having the image reflect what the artist actually saw – of myself through my own eyes, not through someone else’s vision,’ she says. ‘Years later, the concept of the male gaze became central to the discourse, but back then we didn’t have that language.’

Semmel’s drive to go on creating in her 10th decade might have to do with the late recognition she received. Despite her trailblazing work, she began to star at prestigious museums – such as New York’s Whitney Museum and London’s Tate Gallery – only in her 70s and 80s.

Last month, Manhattan’s Jewish Museum opened a huge retrospective, ‘In the Flesh,’ celebrating the entirety of Semmel’s oeuvre, from her early daring sexual paintings to current efforts about growing old, exploring themes of the body, intimacy and autonomy.

‘She was always ahead of the times, challenging the status quo,’ says James Snyder, the museum’s director. Rebecca Shaykin, the museum’s contemporary art curator who oversaw ‘In the Flesh,’ adds: ‘What she did in the 1970s was incredibly groundbreaking.’

According to Shaykin, ‘Seeing an older woman at peace with herself, rooted in her own body, living inside her own skin, powerful – that’s a revolutionary statement.’

Semmel was born in the Bronx in 1932 to Jewish immigrants from Austria-Hungary who sought a new life in the United States. ‘I grew up in a Jewish neighborhood and in a family that always identified strongly as Jews,’ she says.

‘My parents weren’t people of means and could only afford to send my brother for a religious education. I was expected to live a traditional life, get married and have children, but I was always rebellious. I wanted to change the world.

‘I used to argue with my father, whom I loved very much, with passion. He would tell me, ‘Joan, you’re a woman, you need to have children, this is what women do,’ and I would tell him that I wanted to change the world. He said, ‘You can’t change the world.’ I said, ‘Yeah, but I want to.’ It was hard to be individualistic in that society. I learned how to resist.’

The art world was foreign to her family, but thanks to a teacher who recognized her talent, Semmel was sent to study at a music and arts high school. ‘Since I didn’t have to support a family, my parents agreed to send me to study art. They changed my life and opened a new world to me,’ she recalls. ‘I always continued to feel Jewish and many of my friends in the feminist movement were also Jewish.’