Female artist

Just over a year ago, I saw an open call for artists: a new gallery in Oxford was planning an exhibition called For Women By Women to celebrate International Women’s Day. Over the following weeks I created two new pieces of work for the show. While I was painting, I mulled over the idea of being a ‘woman artist’ – what did that mean?

When I started putting my work into the public domain, I felt strongly that I was an artist, not a female artist. I didn’t want people viewing my work to filter their interpretation through a lense of femininity. I was wary of being pigeon-holed, averse to assumptions about what female artists might be interested in. I wanted people to come to my work without any knowledge of me, to let the work speak for itself.

But as the paintings for the For Women By Women show came together, I found this question increasingly sticky. My experience of the world is a female one, and anything I create is drawn from the experiences that have shaped me. Our interpretation of the things we see are skewed by our current context and previous formation. Colour and form have a different significance for each of us. So, since I identify as a woman, am I inevitably a female artist?

Twelve months on, I’ve just delivered two new pieces of work for the second iteration of the For Women By Women show. And my perspective on this question has changed. While I’m still wary of pigeon-holes and assumptions, I’m more comfortable being called a woman artist – though I’m still uncertain about what it means. Are my paintings in some way feminine? I’m not sure. Are the decisions I make about colour, form, texture, material influenced by my experience as a woman? Possibly. If someone thought my paintings were the work of a male artist, how would their interpretation of them change? How visible am I in these artworks?