MoMA's Glenn Lowry Is a Pervert: Cindy Sherman

OK, so Glenn Lowry, the director of the Museum of Modern Art, isn't really a pervert--or at least, I don't know if he is or he isn't. But he did make quite a  risqué, sexually confrontational choice (some might say a "courageous" pick, in the current critical parlance) for his favorite of all the photographs by Cindy Sherman currently on display (through June 11) at MoMA.

Cindy Sherman, Untitled #263 (1992)

His selection as Best in Show at the Sherman retrospective? A very Hans Bellmer-esque pic of two conjoined mid-sections of a male and a female doll (with two severed heads on the side for good measure). Saying the doll parts are anatomically correct doesn't do their graphic nature justice: the extra-hirsute vagina has a tampon string protruding from it; the male member sports a cock ring.    

How do I know this is Lowry's No. 1? He tells us so in a video. In a laudable touch, the museum has scattered QR codes around the exhibition which link to clips of various art-world heavyweights discussing the pics they most admire (though MoMA's spotty wireless connectivity makes watching an exercise in patience). You can view the 10 vids here.

Hans Bellmer doll (1936)

What I find interesting about  Lowry's full-frontal choice is that NY Times critic Roberta Smith, in her review, took the curators to task for not staging a "riskier, more rigorous" exhibition; Smith laments that "there are only three examples of Ms. Sherman's jarring sex pictures." Apparently, Lowry, at least, was ready for many more.

The image of the hairy hermaphrodite appears in the sixth gallery of the exhibition, the one set aside for Sherman's least family-friendly work (and the only ones where she herself is absent from the images): the photographs here include an old-lady doll with sausage links going where they don't belong; a pronouncedly pimply butt; and pics with plenty of flies and vomit.

The room also features the image I'd nominate as the show's breath-taker: Untitled #193 from 1989 that I've dubbed the Chocolate Beast (or Feces Face?) It's an unforgettable image that I couldn't stop staring at (raising suspicion among the guards); it definitely rewards extending viewing, with new details constantly revealing themselves (the fact that a face is hidden there isn't even immediately perceivable).

Cindy Sherman, Untitled #190 (1989)

My overall take on the exhibition? Sherman is one of the contemporary artists with whom I have the longest relationship. I first became familiar with her work in the mid-1990s when I was planning my own series of series of staged movie stills--until I learned that Sherman had beaten me to the idea by some 20 years.

So with nearly 20 years of experience with the work behind me, I went into the show feeling pretty confident that I had a solid understanding of her oeuvre and importance--but I was looking forward to spending time with an old friend.

And no, the show didn't really manage to surprise me or significantly alter my evaluation of Sherman (unlike, for example, a 2003 Lucas Samaras show of his self-portraits at the Whitney, which caused me to undergo a conversion from Samaras naysayer to worshipful kneeler).

But the show did underscore for me that Sherman's work delivers on that essential, contemporary art two-fer: the ideas driving the images are conceptually interesting--and they also succeed as purely visual objects.

Cindy Sherman, Untitled #223 (1990)

And the curators earned my kudos for bringing to my attention a pair of crucial points: First, that Sherman, unlike so many of today's top artists, works alone. The makeup and prop placement alone must be grueling; but knowing that Sherman is going into these characters all by herself deepens for me the sense that these pics are created during a fraught psychic journey. 

I also appreciated that the curators' wall text points out just what a good actress Sherman is--always getting that mysterious smile just so.

Cindy Sherman, Film Still #27 (1979)

After a giant mural that greets visitors to the sixth floor (with a giantess Sherman in various awkward costumes), and then a sort of intro/ante-chamber room that gives one-off samples of some of her most popular series, the exhibition starts with a complete set of her 70 groundbreaking film stills. My own never-done series of staged scenes from imaginary movies would have included snippets of a script; Sherman's pics, unadulterated by titles or text, force the viewer to supply their on context--and are undoubtedly stronger for it.

Cindy Sherman, Untitled #299 (1994)

It was the gallery after the film stills I enjoyed the most--a room dedicated to her Fashion series--work commissioned by major designer labels, with Sherman putting couture clothes on some of her most disturbed characters. I knew of the work, and had seen plenty of examples previously, but seeing eight of them together in close proximity really smacks you in the face with just how strange and striking the photos are (though you also get the somewhat depressing feel that not even Sherman can out-"subversivize" the fashion houses--the more edgy/ugly/anti-beauty the images are, the more happy the self-congratulating sponsors probably are). Look out for the image (Untitled #132 from 1984) where Sherman (in stripes) is a dead ringer for Ellen DeGeneres--or at least what DeGeneres would look like after a rough night.

The next gallery features Sherman's Centerfold series--arguably her strongest work, but too familiar for me to spark any frisson (I was jealous of those getting to encounter these for the first time). And as much as I admire these photos, I can't help but feel that they must have an even added meaning and power for women--that I'm shut out from fully empathizing with the emotions on display.

Cindy Sherman, Untitled #92 (1981

Following galleries are dedicated to her Clown series--my least favorite, not because I'm one of those people frightened by clowns, but because I'm turned off by the garish, candy-colored background swirls; her (underrated) History pics; and then, closing the show out, her latest series: Society Portraits, pics of upscale matrons in their native environment.

But the penultimate gallery is worth a special mention. It's the only one not dedicated to a series but to a theme: the "uncanny, monstrous and carnivalesque impulses" in Sherman's work. We do get a lot more clown photos--but also one of Sherman's most beautiful and haunting, with which I'll close this post:

Cindy Sherman, Untitled #296 (1994)