Mum's the Word - Esther

 Trigger Warning: contains painting of Daphne Todd’s dead mother

Tomorrow marks Mothering Sunday in the UK. A time when we’re supposed to revere & celebrate not only our own mothers, but all mothers & what they give & sacrifice for their children. Many mothers are like this, but Mother’s Day assumes that all mothers have the same qualities, the same traits & the same patience. We know this isn’t true. & whilst I will be visiting my own mother, there are many that are unable to do so. Sometimes Mother’s Day is a difficult time for people, having lost their mother or having had a poor connection with her. We see other families through the lens of our own & days like this can be troublesome for many.

I’m not here to judge. Only you know. In the Art World, mothers are often held up as religious or sentimental paragons of love & virtue whilst with others, you can sense the tension when mummy sits as a model for the artist. Many famous artists have depicted their own mothers: Cézanne, Rembrandt, Picasso, Warhol – like the self-portrait, she’s perhaps a handy model. Or perhaps artists are attempting to say something about motherhood itself.

Whether you have or had a good or bad or a complete absence of a relationship with your mother, there is an artist that knows how you feel & expresses it not only for themselves but also for you.

Martin Creed, Mothers (2012)

Exactly.

James McNeill Whistler, Arrangement in Grey & Black no. 1 (Portrait of the Artist’s Mother) (1871)

Although I’m avoiding the Mother of All Mothers, it’d be churlish to avoid perhaps the most famous (excluding Mary) in Western art history. It’s often seen as quite a severe portrayal of a very austere woman but put yourself in Mother Whistler’s shoes. Look closely at her expression. She’s not used to this. She’s probably not used to anyone’s gaze on her for any length of time & she’s possibly not used to sitting still. Perhaps her joints are giving her bother, after all she’s not as young as she was. What is she even thinking? Her expression is almost as inscrutable as the Mona Lisa’s & perhaps that’s one reason for our enduring interest.

Helene Schjerfbeck, My Mother (1909)

It’s worth including the Whistler just to have a comparison with Schjerfbeck’s. Just a few years apart, the similarities in position, composition & palette (even the hands!) are profound. Yet there is a world of difference in terms of painting style, expression, formality & fragility. We know from Schjerfbeck’s many self-portraits how like her mother she is. There’s a peculiar (some might say beautiful) symmetry & sense of the circle of life in her self-portraits & perhaps this image of her mother combined with her final self-portraits complete that circle.

Marc Chagall, Mother By the Oven (1914) 

For better or worse, sometimes a mother is a dominant presence looming over our interior lives, larger than life even when she’s no longer with us. Certainly Freud (Sigmund, although Lucian made a beautiful painting of his mother) would say so. At first glance, it seems like this is one such presence. The palette, particularly when you know Chagall’s other work, makes her seem rather doomy & oppressive & literally larger than the other figure. Feige-Ite Shagal in fact ran a grocer’s out of their house, so the painting perhaps says more about how she made a living. 

Daphne Todd, Last Portrait of Mother (2010)

This painting sparked much conversation about the purpose of depicting the dead. Still taboo in many cultures, death remains a part of life & the death of a parent will occur in the lifetime of most of us. Todd is not the first person to portray their dead (& consenting) mother, but it is a vivid & very lifelike image. It doesn’t shy away from what the surface of death appears as, in fact it goes into great detail. Do we accept death? Do we turn away? Or like this & other artists, do we confront it head on, despite our grief & sense of loss? Do you feel this is an appropriate way to honour our loved ones? Much of an artist’s job is to explore & to ask questions we might be afraid of asking. Todd goes boldly.

Alice Neel, Mother & Child (c. 1962)

I thought about saying more about this beautiful double portrait, but someone who relates to it intensely has written something much better:

https://www.metmuseum.org/perspectives/articles/2021/5/alice-neel-mother-and-child 

Jean-Michel Basquiat, Mother & Child (1981)

Perhaps as tender as Basquiat gets, in chalk. His own mother survived him by twenty years.

Cecilia Beaux, Mrs James Blathwaite Drinker & Her Son (1922)

There are a number of jarring elements to this painting, but it’s an undoubtedly beautiful image of the mother’s face. Despite the sentimental nature of the picture, the impressionistic style lends her face an ethereal & serene quality worthy of inclusion. Motherhood does this to some women & it’s a lovely thing.

Édouard Vuillard, Interior, Mother & Sister of the Artist (1893)

A peculiarly blank mother yet her pose & clothing suggest a no-nonsense, assertive character.

Gottfried Lindauer, Heeni Hirini & Child (1878)

As discussed in a previous blog, Lindauer’s depictions of Māori people are stunningly rendered & sympathetic. This gives a clear sense of the weight of the child, regardless of how portable it is...

Käthe Kollwitz, The Mothers (1921)

Of course it’s a war image. In this masterful German Expressionistwoodcut, Kollwitz responds to the devastation of loss following the First World War. Despite her incredible warning, despite all the warnings & all that has happened in the interim, here we are again in Europe; again mothers are experiencing this trauma.

LaToya Ruby Frazier, Momme (2008)

This powerful photograph forces the viewer to ask questions about this mother-daughter relationship. Are they confronting, defying or ignoring each other? Or are they standing together, almost merging as one? Are they lost in their own thoughts? What have they been through together? What does their future hold? Where are they now?

(There is a series of photographs & they seem to be fine, although to my eyes the mother is dominant in each…)

Uemura Sh En, Mother & Child (1934)

As with much Japanese art, we’re given a more unusual angle. Here’s a less-shown view of the baby – the back of its head – showing the hair & traditional clothing. It’s a wonderful composition & as highly stylised as the image is, the mother’s expression seems natural.

Vincent van Gogh, Mother Roulin With Her Baby (1888)

As tired yet satisfied as we’d expect a mother to be, this chimes with our view of modern motherhood – she’s delighted with her newborn (& it’s evidently delighted too) but she’s still having to do everything else as well & she could really do with a nap. 

Egon Schiele, Dead Mother I (1910)

Egon also goes for the dead. Of course he does.