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New Round Of Awards For Women Artists

It’s Friday afternoon, so I will keep this short: In keeping with my longstanding interest in the Anonymous Was A Woman Foundation, which annually gives $25,000 grants to women artists “over 45 years of age and at a critical juncture in their lives or careers, to continue to grow and pursue their work,” I am listing the new awardees — announced today”

  • Ann Agee
  • Uta Barth (her photo, top right)
  • Andrea Fraser
  • Jane Hammond (her work, below right)
  • Mary Kelly
  • Jae Ko
  • Judy Pfaff
  • Betye Saar
  • Lorna Simpson
  • Jessica Stockholder

As you may not remember from last year, in 1997, when these awards were founded, I wrote a Page One story for the New York Times about them. The hope was that they would at some point no longer be needed to counter the bias toward male artists. But that still exists, so…

171 women have now received money from this foundation.  

On a related note, today the Dallas Museum of Art opened Difference? — an exhibition of works by female artists in its collection:

The exhibition draws attention to the fact that there is only one thing these artists have in common. In doing so, we pose the question, “What’s the difference, and does it matter?”

Probably not. I’m kind of against single-sex exhibitions, but I suppose they serve a purpose.

Photo Credits: Courtesy of the Artists

 

Comments

  1. Robin Graffius says:

    Unfortunately, the bias and prejudice continues. I would have never thought 20 years ago, as a young naive 23 year old, just realizing the unsettling sexism of our world, that we would have made so little progress. Oh, don’t get me wrong, progress has been made, but not near enough. Judy Chicago’s Dinner Party is alost 40 years old and yet women continue to be overlooked, disrespected, mistreated, and long forgotten. Thank you Anonymous Was A Woman Foundation. We need you!

    • Has it been 40 years since I saw Emily Dickinson’s lacy vagina? What a profound exhibit Judy Chicago’s was! I just keep making whatever kind of art I can, in between the life that ceaselessly makes financial demands, family clock carving, and the honor of service commitments. I set up a table in the kitchen recently and started working in plaster bandages. My husband thinks it’s messy, it’s not art, it’s weird and I continue to fight criticism, judgement and have the freedom of being older now and truly know that it is the doing not the end result that is the joy of my life. When it’s done, the orgasm is over and if someone appreciates the frozen result, that’s nice but not necessary. I have printed photographs on eggshells in a darkroom, wrapped loops of string on wooden boxes, rolled hundreds of yards of gold leaf on ceilings…all art is moving, growing, being born. Art is birth.
      The river inside me is creative and I can pull any fish out, it doesn’t matter which one, writing, painting, photography, cooking…it is all from the same river and matters not to me. Create or die!

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