I’ve never been on the cover of a magazine – I’m not pretty or famous enough. But I know a strong photo when I see it. And the close-up of Germaine Greer, captured mid-sentence, on the cover of the current The Monthly magazine is one such photo.
Greer fuels and often courts controversy. She gets our attention. She divides opinion. We either love her or hate her.
In the Fairfax press, Anne Summers and others have been quick to defend Greer’s contributions to women and feminism in light of Louis Nowra's article for The Monthly.
Greer fuels and often courts controversy. She gets our attention. She divides opinion. We either love her or hate her.
In the Fairfax press, Anne Summers and others have been quick to defend Greer’s contributions to women and feminism in light of Louis Nowra's article for The Monthly.
For Summers, the magazine's cover image is also a problem. To her, the photograph of Greer is ‘just as unkind’ as Nowra's article - a pictorial attempt to ‘ridicule’ Greer by brutally capturing ‘all the lines of life on her face.’
Perhaps, as Summers suggests, this was the intention. I do not know. But it is not how I see it. And this is why.
Where Summers sees unkindness and ridicule, I see a strong, forthright woman. It is obviously not a crafted studio photograph, shot with soft lighting and heavy makeup. It is an action shot. It is clearly, very obviously Greer. It’s a photograph not unlike the archetypal images of her in full-swing – addressing an audience, her hands distinctively expressing her point.
I acknowledge that it is not the most flattering portrait of Australia’s expat celebrity feminist. She does look like an older woman, even if she doesn’t look the like the average septuagenarian. She might not like the image, but how many of us like all our happy snaps?
Can you imagine the outcry if The Monthly had used a subdued, weak or airbrushed image of Greer? I’d have been disappointed. In using this image, Greer looks like she can take Nowra’s withering criticisms. That she will fight back. That she is the strong public woman. That, whatever we might think of her, she is not playing at being a public feminist, but it the real deal.
But the image is more than this. It is a welcome break from the odd poses struck by young things on magazine covers and the narcissist self-photography of MySpace and FaceBook.
It is also out of the ordinary. Older women are usually absent from our popular culture, present rarely, and and usually presented as passive. Greer’s presence on the cover of this magazine stands in stark contrast other images we are accustomed, especially those photographs of older women as victims off violence, their faces bruised and overblown, cowering in their hospital beds.
What are the implications of Summer's point? If Greer shouldn't have been presented in this way, should we too banish the ‘lines of life’ from the digital record? More than a few of us do this already, guiltily deleting unflattering digital images, or seeking softer lighting for the family photos. But is such pretence helpful? Is there not some power to be gained from facing what we look like, warts and all?
I'm not naïvely saying that photos are always true representations of who we are. Or that we can be or are completely ‘natural’. For women, pretence stalks us at every turn. Plucking, waxing, dyeing and cosmetically enhancing are not new, and every woman throughout her life makes decisions if, and how, she will change their appearance. Should I wear makeup? Wax my hairy legs? Cover that pimple?
Yet I think that looking our age in photographs, and accepting our lines, is a slightly different issue. Surely some honesty here is necessary, in both our private lives and the public realm.
Honest ageing is not in vogue in everyday life, let alone in photographs of celebrities. I am half Greer’s age, and I know some of my contemporaries are already hooked on ‘preventative Botox.’ Botox devotee, actress Rebecca Gibney, likens these injections as ‘like having a facial.’ Commenters on beauty blogs try for the same result by keeping their face as immobile and emotion free as possible in order to avoid character lines from forming. (I kid you not.) Little wonder that they photograph well.
That said, I also know the ego-shattering effect of an unflattering photo face, and why we might want to avoid it. We can be more vulnerable and sensitive when it comes to our photographed image. An unflattering frozen image of ourself can catch us off guard, reminding us of the march of time in a way we don’t notice from day to day. It offers the objective evidence of a furrow between the brows, decent crop of grey hairs, and tired eyes.
I know this from experience. For my recent birthday my husband had a family photo emblazoned on a cup. In the image I am thin, gaunt, my normally pale skin stained dark, my eyes sunken. My sickness stands out all the more next to the healthy smiles and glowing skin of my two young children. At the time I recoiled from the image. Couldn’t he, I asked, have chosen a better one? Or waited until I was better?
And then I realised that no, he couldn’t have. This was me: an honest, sincere image. This reflects who I am. I am not about pretending about my age, any more than I would lie or deceive about the facts. I might enhance how I look with cosmetics, but facing and telling the truth is essential. I am strong because I’m not pretending.
Greer’s photograph says something similar. It is of a strong image of a woman with something to say who also looks her age. There is merit in this. Can you imagine Greer still being Greer without her face being free to express herself? Her rage, anger, and humour?
I know I could go down to my local hairdressers and have my ‘lines of life’ erased in five minutes (yes, they do Botox as well as haircuts). But Greer’s image is a reminder that such a flight from truth is trivial and unimportant. That, at the end of the day, it is my professional and personal achievements that will be more enduring than fighting a losing battle to look younger than I am. This is a no-brainer, yet it needs restating.
I might not always agree with Germaine Greer, but her image on The Monthly’s cover is liberating. It's anything but a ‘cheap shot.’
Perhaps, as Summers suggests, this was the intention. I do not know. But it is not how I see it. And this is why.
Where Summers sees unkindness and ridicule, I see a strong, forthright woman. It is obviously not a crafted studio photograph, shot with soft lighting and heavy makeup. It is an action shot. It is clearly, very obviously Greer. It’s a photograph not unlike the archetypal images of her in full-swing – addressing an audience, her hands distinctively expressing her point.
I acknowledge that it is not the most flattering portrait of Australia’s expat celebrity feminist. She does look like an older woman, even if she doesn’t look the like the average septuagenarian. She might not like the image, but how many of us like all our happy snaps?
Can you imagine the outcry if The Monthly had used a subdued, weak or airbrushed image of Greer? I’d have been disappointed. In using this image, Greer looks like she can take Nowra’s withering criticisms. That she will fight back. That she is the strong public woman. That, whatever we might think of her, she is not playing at being a public feminist, but it the real deal.
But the image is more than this. It is a welcome break from the odd poses struck by young things on magazine covers and the narcissist self-photography of MySpace and FaceBook.
It is also out of the ordinary. Older women are usually absent from our popular culture, present rarely, and and usually presented as passive. Greer’s presence on the cover of this magazine stands in stark contrast other images we are accustomed, especially those photographs of older women as victims off violence, their faces bruised and overblown, cowering in their hospital beds.
What are the implications of Summer's point? If Greer shouldn't have been presented in this way, should we too banish the ‘lines of life’ from the digital record? More than a few of us do this already, guiltily deleting unflattering digital images, or seeking softer lighting for the family photos. But is such pretence helpful? Is there not some power to be gained from facing what we look like, warts and all?
I'm not naïvely saying that photos are always true representations of who we are. Or that we can be or are completely ‘natural’. For women, pretence stalks us at every turn. Plucking, waxing, dyeing and cosmetically enhancing are not new, and every woman throughout her life makes decisions if, and how, she will change their appearance. Should I wear makeup? Wax my hairy legs? Cover that pimple?
Yet I think that looking our age in photographs, and accepting our lines, is a slightly different issue. Surely some honesty here is necessary, in both our private lives and the public realm.
Honest ageing is not in vogue in everyday life, let alone in photographs of celebrities. I am half Greer’s age, and I know some of my contemporaries are already hooked on ‘preventative Botox.’ Botox devotee, actress Rebecca Gibney, likens these injections as ‘like having a facial.’ Commenters on beauty blogs try for the same result by keeping their face as immobile and emotion free as possible in order to avoid character lines from forming. (I kid you not.) Little wonder that they photograph well.
That said, I also know the ego-shattering effect of an unflattering photo face, and why we might want to avoid it. We can be more vulnerable and sensitive when it comes to our photographed image. An unflattering frozen image of ourself can catch us off guard, reminding us of the march of time in a way we don’t notice from day to day. It offers the objective evidence of a furrow between the brows, decent crop of grey hairs, and tired eyes.
I know this from experience. For my recent birthday my husband had a family photo emblazoned on a cup. In the image I am thin, gaunt, my normally pale skin stained dark, my eyes sunken. My sickness stands out all the more next to the healthy smiles and glowing skin of my two young children. At the time I recoiled from the image. Couldn’t he, I asked, have chosen a better one? Or waited until I was better?
And then I realised that no, he couldn’t have. This was me: an honest, sincere image. This reflects who I am. I am not about pretending about my age, any more than I would lie or deceive about the facts. I might enhance how I look with cosmetics, but facing and telling the truth is essential. I am strong because I’m not pretending.
Greer’s photograph says something similar. It is of a strong image of a woman with something to say who also looks her age. There is merit in this. Can you imagine Greer still being Greer without her face being free to express herself? Her rage, anger, and humour?
I know I could go down to my local hairdressers and have my ‘lines of life’ erased in five minutes (yes, they do Botox as well as haircuts). But Greer’s image is a reminder that such a flight from truth is trivial and unimportant. That, at the end of the day, it is my professional and personal achievements that will be more enduring than fighting a losing battle to look younger than I am. This is a no-brainer, yet it needs restating.
I might not always agree with Germaine Greer, but her image on The Monthly’s cover is liberating. It's anything but a ‘cheap shot.’
What do you think?
great post Ruth - I have been thinking of these things too. Am surprised you can get a botox shot with your cut and blow dry at the hairdressers- scarey.
ReplyDeleteI think The Monthly image of Greer is great - she looks on top of her game, intelligent and animated, in short alive - I don't always agree with her, but I love her for speaking her own truth - there is always a glimmer of accuracy, no matter how wild.
we are our own worst critics when it comes to photos - nothing like having ones photo taken with a pure complexioned baby to make one feel time - however to me, you look only a little tired surrounded by a beautiful family ( and they can tire one!) :)
Thanks for this terrific post, Ruth. I couldn't agree with you more. The business of image seems to be everything, and it troubles me.
ReplyDeleteI read the Monthly article and railed at some of Nowra's criticisms. I'm not a Greer devotee, but I'm one of those women for whom the Female Eunuch created massive life changing waves.
I was at university when it first arrived on the scene, and when we were first able to attend courses in women's studies.
Another picture of Greer I note from the same Monthly article was probably taken around that time. The caption says it featured in the underground magazine, OZ.
In the photo Greer is dressed in Indian or otherwise exotic silks, a thick heavily brocaded skirt and an open blouse with sleeves in some sort of silk. Her seemingly pure white breasts are exposed. She sits side on holding an electric guitar as if about to play. Her hair is dark and tousled. She looks like a god, or as if she’s meant to look like a god from hippie days. All you need is a waft of marijuana or a bong and you’re off...
This is a different image of Greer who to me exemplifies the complexity of human nature.
As someone on another blog elsewhere noted, this emphasis on what Nowra describes in his article as Greer looking like a 'deranged grandmother' whatever that looks like, says nothing about her capacity or her ideas.
I resent the continual focus on the appearance of women at the expense of their capacity and their ideas.
How often do you read about a man of intellect, passion and ideas being described as someone who looks like 'a deranged grandpa'.
Feminism still has some way to go.
GG: You put that so well - Greer's glimmer of truth.
ReplyDeleteElisabeth: I agree: you don't have to worship Greer to recognise her role as a feminist ambassador - getting ideas out there.
Re: 'deranged grandpa' - I take your point, although I recently read a description of Lesley Stephens (Virginia Woolf and Vanessa Bell's father) that suggested this! Perhaps this puts Greer in good company...