Exponent II's Blog, page 230

Sacred Music Sunday: Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming

[image error]Black and white picture of hands holding the blossom of a red rose. Public Domain.

One of my favorite Christmas songs is Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming. It’s usually sung a capella, and it’s a simple yet beautiful tune. It’s based out of Messianic text in Isaiah and connects the text to the birth and ministry of Jesus.

In the song, Jesus is represented as a rose. Roses are typically considered feminine, so identifying Jesus with that flower is a reminder that Jesus transcends the man-made gender boundaries that exist in society. Just as there’s no intrinsic reason why roses have to be feminine, there’s no intrinsic reason why power and strength have to be masculine. Jesus embodied all virtues, and as His followers, both female and male, we are to embody all virtues as well.

The stems of roses have thorns on them, sometimes pricking those who try to get to the blossom. In a way, I think that’s a reminder to us that sometimes the church or the people in it might wound us as we try to approach Jesus. But that’s not an indictment of Jesus or His love. Jesus is the blossom, the church is the stem, and the thorns are policies, practices, or people that stab us on the way to our journey to the Rose. At this Christmas season, may we remember that the thorns are not the flower, and may we remove the thorns that keep our fellow people from enjoying the Rose.

The crux of the song comes in the third verse where we’re reminded of the grace and atoning power of Jesus to not only save us from sin but also to strengthen us against our weakness. He knows every pain and every sorrow, every sin, and yet because of His great love for us, He saves us and brings us into the kingdom of God through our relationship with Him.

Lo, how a Rose e’er blooming
From tender stem hath sprung!
Of Jesse’s lineage coming
As those of old have sung.
It came, a flower bright,
Amid the cold of winter
When half-spent was the night.

Isaiah ’twas foretold it,
The Rose I have in mind:
With Mary we behold it,
The virgin mother kind.
To show God’s love aright
She bore to us a Savior
When half-spent was the night.

O, Savior, Child of Mary,
Who felt our human woe,
O, Savior, King of Glory,
Who dost our weakness know,
Bring us at length we pray
To the bright courts of heaven
And to the endless day.

#hearLDSwomen: My Voice Is Not Valued in Ward Council Meetings

[image error]

Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash

A friend joked that they let women talk all they want in Ward Council because all of the decisions are made in PEC (Priesthood Executive Committee). It wasn’t a joke.

– Rachel

 

The Ward Council was all men except representatives from the Relief Society presidency, and it was made clear that the women were just a token. The men make the final decisions. The women carry them out.

– Heidi Alsop

 

As Young Women president, I was frequently shut down in Ward Council. From being deliberately passed over for comment, to “sorry, sister, we are out of time,” to noticing when I was ruffling feathers that it was time to stop talking.

– Natalie Ware Gowan

 

Every time I’ve suggested something in a Ward Council meeting, I get a few nods with no feedback. And then, a few minutes later, my exact idea will be restated by a man in the room and everybody says what a great idea it is. Every. Time.

– Lorraine

 

Pro Tip: Listen to and elevate women’s voices in leadership meetings. Don’t ever joke about silencing women or about women talking too much.

Click here to read all of the stories in our #hearLDSwomen series. Has anything like this happened to you? Please share in the comments or submit your experience(s) to participate in the series.

“If any man have ears to hear, let him hear.” (Mark 4:23)

Christmas After Faith Transition

[image error]OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

My earliest Christmas memories are of deep drifts of snow visiting my grandparents house in New England. They lived on top of a big hill, and sometimes when it was too icy, we had to wade up the hill through heavy drifts of snow. The snow made for fun snow fights and sledding, and defrosting afterward as we hung our wet things by the large wood-burning stove in the basement. Every Christmas Eve there was a reading of the nativity story from Luke, while the children dressed to play the various parts with robes and other costume pieces gathered from around the house. At the end we sang Christmas carols, particularly those that are also found in the LDS hymnal. An afterthought was the laying out of stockings and anything about the Christmas tree.

My parents never taught me to believe in Santa Claus or told me that he brought me presents. I learned from other sources that he was watching to see if I was bad or good, but I found that he never brought me the presents I wished for and he didn’t retain my interest for long. Unfortunately, I also felt that Jesus didn’t find me to be very good and didn’t give me the kinds of things I wished for either. I didn’t get answers to my prayers, but that didn’t diminish my belief one whit. I was just convinced I wasn’t a very good little girl. It was easy for me to believe it was my fault whenever religion didn’t play out for me how I was taught it should.

My testimony of Mormonism eroded slowly over decades. I desperately fought it within myself. I repeatedly stamped down my own budding feminism and self-indoctrinated with old conference talks to fight against it. I tried to reconcile the ugly things I learned about church history even when I found them morally repugnant and made me doubt the goodness of God. I clung for a brief time to symbolic interpretations that gave me hope. I thirsted after the divine feminine. I tried to be obedient enough to earn God’s blessings and respect. I demanded, I cried, I wrestled. The worst part of it was the isolation I felt, having no one to talk with about what I was feeling. And God was silent. When my foundations in Mormonism finally experienced an earthquake, I thought I would still be able to hold on to Jesus Christ and some form of Christianity. But almost the moment I turned my thoughts that direction I felt a familiar crumbling beneath my feet.

Eventually I went down a second rabbit hole, wherein my interpretation of the traditional Christian narrative unraveled, just as my Mormonism had. The last few Christmases have been painful. At first I had no idea what to do with it. I had always taught my children that the ‘true meaning’ of Christmas was remembering Jesus. Suddenly I had no idea if Jesus was a real person or not, much less if he was the son of God, or my Savior. My husband read the Christmas story from Luke while my children acted out the nativity story, while I sat numb and overwhelmed with my own ambivalence. I tried to sing the familiar songs, while inwardly cringing and spiraling as I questioned the messages of those songs. The next year, I was silent and didn’t sing the religious songs. We didn’t have the nativity play that had been a yearly tradition through my entire life. The following Christmas I started to sing again, though I still didn’t know why.

I find that each year as time passes the pain is less acute. This season as I began to hear all the old songs have touched less of a nerve than they did when I first grappled with who I was and what my new worldview would look like. I’m not going to pretend this is all behind me, as I think my worldview may continue to evolve throughout my lifetime, but I thought today I could talk about the beautiful things I get out of the Christ story, even as a person in a non-literal evolving stage of belief. I have no desire to hurt anyone with my heretical views, and hope I am expressing clearly the things I love about my tradition.

The nativity story is a beautiful tale, even when seen as mythological. I like the message of God himself coming down among the people of the world as a helpless infant. I embrace the idea of the divinity of each human life, the great promise and hope of a child coming into the world. I like the idea of an unknown divinity masquerading in the midst of the most common and humble among us, that we should look to and treat others as divinities in disguise. I like the idea of giving generous gifts to the poor. I like the idea of all creation celebrating a human birth. I love that it is the same time of year as winter solstice, and the symbolism of the cycles of life in nature that are brought through the darkness and death of winter, to the light and life of spring. The timing of Christmas as 3 days after solstice, is apt as the lengthening of daylight first becomes apparent. I think ritual can be beautiful and meaningful in expressing deep truths through metaphor.

The gospel message as I understand it is that all of us can be reconciled to God through Christ. This also is a beautiful message. To me it means that we can always change and become better. That when we have done something wrong, we can still be good people and won’t always be stuck because of past mistakes. I don’t know if there is a personal being (or beings) who is God, but I can think of God as a oneness and connection to all life, and a transcendence beyond the self. I feel like we get cut off from that when we are acting in selfishness and that we need a way to be reconciled. I like the imagery used to express these ideas in scripture “To be made clean”, “To be saved from sin”, “To be reconciled to God”, though I can’t say I embrace these literally, I enjoy the questions and thoughtful conversation these kinds of messages can spark.

The moral and ethical teachings of Jesus are beautiful and meaningful. I love Jesus. I am okay with calling myself a Christian, as a follower of Christ. The sermon on the mount as a collection of the teachings attributed to Christ is beautiful and meaningful. The commandments are general statements of good morality like, don’t kill, steal, break marriage vows, or defraud others. I love that Jesus specifically taught to love all people regardless of their background, he was a revolutionary for his time in reaching out to people who were despised – women, non-jews, sinners, etc. I love the idea that people of all genders, races, cultures, and walks of life are equally deserving of our love and should be honored and respected as part of our community. I love the idea that the ‘kingdom of heaven is at hand’, meaning right now in this moment it is accessible.  I think it can be part of a meaningful life to seek to understand in implement these teachings, as well as to seek out other sources of wisdom to inform one’s worldview and benevolent actions.

I love Joseph Campbell’s sentiment that there are truths that can only be expressed in metaphor, and that all religions are equally true (in the metaphorical sense). Mormonism was my inherited spiritual dialect, and Christianity the primary spiritual language. I no longer consider myself a practitioner of Mormonism, but strive to take with me all the best parts.

There are also beautiful messages about Christmas as it translates to a more secular viewpoint. My youngest wants me to read “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” every day. Sometimes I need my heart to grow three sizes. I grew up watching“It’s a Wonderful Life” and enjoyed seeing the difference one person could ostensibly make in the world. I particularly love Dickens’ Christmas message, brought by the repentant character of Marley ‘mankind was my business’ and Scrooge, who ‘honored Christmas in his heart, and kept it all year.’ Hoping that we can all keep Christmas in this way.

Casserole in My Mailbox

Guest post by Emily G

The summer issue of the Exponent II magazine arrived in my mailbox on a day when I. was. done. in. Managing two moody teenagers, a neglected dog, new administrative responsibilities at work, a series of contentious school board meetings and half a dozen high-energy kids in my Primary calling left me feeling as transparent and empty as the Mason jar on the magazine cover. That day, I wished my life could transform into a heartwarming General Conference story where someone shows up at the perfect time with a casserole and a listening ear and saves the day.

[image error]

No friend, no casserole appeared. But thumbing through the magazine, I found an article that spoke directly to my ragged and unkempt soul. And with it – a recipe! For “Where Can I Turn For Peas . . . And Prosciutto Risotto.” I decided then and there that I would dedicate the next few hours to self-care, starting by making myself the warm, hearty meal I had momentarily hoped would appear on my doorstep. I took a deep, grounding breath, poured a can of Diet Coke into a fancy goblet, and proceeded to follow the instructions. Forty-five minutes later, I was sitting at my kitchen table in a bubble of bliss eating delicious food off my best china plate and devouring the summer issue of Exponent II.

The Exponent II community has fed and sustained me over many years. The retreat is my spiritual reset, filling me up with the patience, love and hope I crave to make it through another year of work, parenting and church. The Facebook group and the blog nourish me on a regular basis with the knowledge that my experiences both are and are not unique. But the Exponent II magazine is my lifeline. It is a tangible connection to my people. I can pick it up off the coffee table, turn its glossy pages, and find enlightenment and wisdom inside. I savor each poem, story and work of art. When a new issue arrives, I can’t bear to part with the old one, so it goes on a shelf alongside my treasured books.

Who do you know that deserves a friend and a casserole this season? Send her a subscription to the Exponent magazine!

Subscribe to or buy a gift subscription to  Exponent II here . Your support keeps us going for future generations of Mormon feminists. Every person who buys a subscription this week will be entered into a drawing for “Illuminating Ladies,” Exponent II’s coloring book about Mormon women.

The Annual Tabernacle Choir Christmas Concert and Other Star-studded Spectaculars on Temple Square

[image error]

Broadway star Sutton Foster sings during the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas concert in Salt Lake City on Thursday, Dec. 14, 2017.

I love the event formerly known as the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Annual Christmas Concert.  With the road shows of my Latter-day Saint childhood long gone and just recently, outdoor pageants also cut, I am crossing my fingers that this holiday tradition stays in place.  Alongside humanitarian aid, I see the arts as one of the greatest ways we can offer something “virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy” to the interfaith communities that surround us. Such events also expose church members to the good other people and cultures can offer us, as guests are usually not of our faith and the musical selections are not at all limited to typical Sacrament meeting fare.

Arts events at Temple Square are free of charge but they are not cheap. I love that these events bring A-list artists to spectators who would otherwise never afford to see them.  (In contrast, I once went to the Christmas event at Disneyworld.  It was expensive and the “celebrity host” was an adult who had a supportive role in a not-great TV series during his teen years. His reading of Luke II was not good.)

Of course, on the downside, only people like me who are privileged to live in the Salt Lake area can regularly attend live events at Temple Square, but the availability of video does help bring these events to others.  Today, I am sharing with you video of my favorite Temple Square events from the past year.

Christmas Concert with Sutton Foster and Hugh Bonneville

Both of these celebrity guests, who have certainly performed in many a prestigious locale, couldn’t help but crack a few jokes about the “intimate” Conference Center venue.  (For those of you who have not had the opportunity to attend an event at the Conference Center, that might give you an idea of its seating capacity.) I loved how the show wove together both secular and religious Christmas music and highlighted women and men from history who were people of faith (but not the LDS faith).

As of this time of writing, this full concert is not yet available in full online but it will air on TV stations throughout the week of Christmas and can be purchased as a DVD.

But here are some highlights:

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year with Tabernacle Choir and  Sutton Foster

It is Well with My Soul with Tabernacle Choir and Hugh Bonneville

Pioneer Day Concert with Matthew Morrison, Laura Michelle Kelly, and Oscar “Andy” Hammerstein III

I watched every season of Glee so I jumped at the chance to hear Matthew Morrison live.  Oscar Hammerstein’s grandson narrated this review of Rodgers & Hammerstein music and shared with us tidbits from Hammerstein’s life.  For example, he hated children, and if anyone would know that, it was his own grandson.

Pioneer Day Concert with Matthew Morrison, Laura Michelle Kelly, and Oscar “Andy” Hammerstein III

 
Be One – A Celebration of the Revelation on the Priesthood

I was not able to attend this event in person, but I sent my daughter to see it with other family members and friends and watched it on video later with my sons.  My boys, ages 6-10, had no interest in the talk that occupied the first 25 minutes of the video, but they perked up as soon as the music and dance numbers began.  Like the other shows I have shared here, this one featured a wealth of celebrities, but unlike the others, these celebrities were church members: Gladys Knight, Alex Boyé, the Bonner family, and the Unity Gospel Choir International. My blue-eyed, fair-skinned 10-year-old son cried when the narrators told the life stories of African American, African, Jamaican and Brazilian Latter-day Saints who had been barred from the temple by racist policies of our past; I think this musical event touched him in a way that no history lesson could have.

Be One – A Celebration of the Revelation on the Priesthood

#subscribetoExponent: My Favorite Gift to Give

[image error] My Nativity Bookshelves

As a Young Woman, I didn’t know that some might consider being a Mormon feminist to be a contradiction. I grew up with many models of Mormon feminism. My mom, my dad’s mom, and the authors of the essays in Exponent II newspaper (now magazine) helped me know that I was not alone in my concerns about equality and gender in the Church.

I grew up loving Judy Dushku’s Sister Speak column. Today, we have Facebook groups where we can immediately get answers to deep questions we don’t want to voice at Church or to our family because they can cause pain and tension, like how is the temple *really* for you? Or how do I leave the Church and maintain relationships with believing family members? But, in the 1980’s and 1990’s, those questions and answers would be devoured by many of us just once a quarter each year when our Exponent II newspaper arrived in the mail.

I read Laurel Thatcher Ulrich’s and Emma Lou Thayne’s East/West column and thrived on their sometimes humorous, sometimes heartbreakingly familiar thoughts about faith and feminism. I read stories about women surviving sexual abuse, choosing to work, infertility, being single, and so many other experiences that helped me to gain empathy in way that I don’t think would have been possible without reading theses personal stories of women who were brave in their vulnerability.

During my time as an editor of Exponent II, I had the privilege of working with my co-editor, Aimee Evans Hickman, to compile an issue devoted to the stories of the LGBTQ Mormons. It blew my world wide open to intersectional feminism. As a white feminist, I had been too narrow in my focus on gender equality, seeing it through my lens as a white cis-hetero middle-class women. Equality is the work of feminism for all who are marginalized, including queer, people of color, differently abled…for anyone who is overlooked or deemed “less than.” That is both the radical message of feminism (when we do it right) and of Jesus Christ.

Every year, I give the gift of Exponent II to my immediate family, both my in-laws and my own. But, recently, I have come to value the Exponent II magazine all the more and expanded who receives this gift.

Today, I feel like I need to immediately form an opinion on the topic-of-the-moment on social media. I don’t always sit with what I read, to reflect and ponder.  So, for me, gifting a subscription is not just giving someone a beautiful piece of work. I am also giving the gift of time, of savoring something praiseworthy and of good report in quiet solitude. Sometimes, I give a subscription to a friend who is struggling, either with the trials of life or feeling unwelcome or uncomfortable her ward. I give it to ward members who have a hard time understanding me.  (I have had a couple people thank me over the years for these subscriptions because it helps them see why I chose to define the Gospel as I do.)  This magazine can help build bridges in a divisive time, which is why it is my favorite gift to give.

Any subscription bought this week–for yourself or as a great gift for someone you love–will enter you into a raffle for Illuminating Ladies, the coloring book Exponent II made about Mormon women, and with a gift subscription, we’ll send you a postcard via email that you can fill in to give as a surprise on Christmas morning. http://www.exponentii.org/shop

#hearLDSwomen: I Am the Head of My Household Just as Much as My Husband

[image error]

Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash

When I was married, the software program/ward clerks deleted my “household” (with contact info and my photo) and added me as a member of my husband’s household, with him as head of household. So there was no contact info or photo of me. They also changed my name without my permission, even though I had explicitly requested ahead of time that they not change my name.

– Emily Belanger

When I was growing up, I had a mentally disabled father who wasn’t active in the church at all. My mother was clearly the head of the household in every way – my father was more of a fifth child than a spouse. But he was listed as head of household in the directory. It drove me mad.

– Mary

My husband is not even Christian, and he is listed as head of household in the ward directory. (I kept my name.) My home teacher is the ward clerk and he says he can’t change it.

– Sylvia Cabus

When I remarried, they put me under my husband with him listed as “head of household.” When I asked to have it changed, they said something about the software not being set up that way. So now people can’t easily find me because I didn’t take my husband’s name.

– Cherie Pedersen

I’m sick of my house being called “Stephen Christiansen’s house.”

It’s my house, too.

– Amelia Christiansen

Pro Tip: Respect women’s wishes and call them by the name they prefer. Don’t assume they’re going to change their last name after getting married. Don’t assume the husband is the head of household or that the home only belongs to him. Since marriage is an equal partnership, the woman owns the home and is head of household just as much as the man is.

Click here to read all of the stories in our #hearLDSwomen series. Has anything like this happened to you? Please share in the comments or submit your experience(s) to participate in the series.

“If any man have ears to hear, let him hear.” (Mark 4:23)

Advent and Offerings

I’ve never liked the song “The Little Drummer Boy.” The tune isn’t bad–I actually find the repetitive melody rather soothing–but the off-key “ching ching” of a triangle at the end of every phrase is jarring. (Who decided the triangle was acceptable punctuation for symphonies and orchestras, anyway?)

[image error]

And then there’s the lyrics: the story of the kid who plays a drum for baby Jesus. I always envisioned a little boy with a snare drum strapped to his chest a la marching band: rat-a-tat-a-tat-tat. Let’s face it: drums are not solo instruments. But even if he was lugging timpanis (the classy member of the drum family) to the stable, the resultant sound would still be a far cry short of a lullaby.

What a joke. A drum solo for baby Jesus; honestly.

I’ve been doing my best to observe Advent this year. I love the Mormon and family traditions I’ve been raised with, but discovering the liturgical calendar has been a game-changer for me. I’ve found myself trying to inhabit the mindset of the people in the centuries before Christ’s coming: yearning and praying for an event they hoped, but could not know, would come.

The decor in my house completely changes over each December (or late November, if I’m honest). Poinsettias flank the fireplace, furniture is rearranged to accommodate the tree, and the exterior of the house is festooned with wreaths and lights. During the lead up to Christmas, we make special cookies, drink seasonal beverages, listen to Christmas music, deliver treats to friends, and observe traditions of sleigh rides and visits to see Santa. Much of our thoughts are centered on gifts and giving. This month, everything–from the media we consume to the food we eat to our daily errands and routines–is affected by our anticipation of Christmas.

The spirit of Advent for us in the liminal space between Christ’s birth and his second coming manifests in this anticipation for Christmas day–for Christ to be born in us. We are each Mary, pregnant with the son of God, waiting and hoping for him to be made incarnate in our lives.

The other night, I drove by myself through my neighborhood. I felt a lump form in my throat as I passed house after house with lights–big and small, white and colored, bright and muted–draped over branches and dripping off eaves. A big motivation for seasonal decor is just the novelty of it, I know, but these lights are a testament to a Great Something that occurred long ago and is now lodged in our collective cultural consciousness. There is something in each point of light that points to the Light of the world.

I take down my Christmas decorations the first couple weeks in January. As much as I love it, if I left my tree up all year, its presence would become more ordinary and less significant to me. Still, there is something powerful in this annual ritual of moving the furniture to make room for the Christ child.

Playing a drum for an infant is, perhaps, an absurd gift. But then I think about how little any of us have to offer the Savior; about how my small offerings are really nothing more than pitiful noise in the vast scheme of things. My attempts to follow Christ are at times grating or useless (rat-a-tat-a-tat-tat), but they are earnest. And, really, it’s all I have to offer.

It is enough.

#SubscribeToExponent

[image error]

The question the Exponent II leadership has gotten the most often over the past year is, “What can I do to help?” That question always makes me a little teary; it underlines the resilience, grit, charity, and grace of this community.

There happens to be a very simple response: subscribe to Exponent II. Subscriptions are by far our largest source of income. It is how we sustain the organization. And yet we have gone to extraordinary lengths to keep it very reasonably priced. Just $35 (slightly more for international shipping) will get you a gorgeous 40 page glossy magazine arriving in your mailbox four times a year. I promise that it will be your favorite thing in your mailbox that week. It is chock-full of 10,000 words of thoughtful essays and poetry and art on almost every page. The writing is complex, thoughtful, vulnerable, and strengthening. The art is stunning and will revolutionize your idea of what Mormon women artists are making. Many people have said to me, when flipping through Exponent II for the first time, “How do you make the pages glow like that?”

If you already have a subscription, consider getting a gift subscription for someone wonderful in your life. We will send you a digital postcard you can print off to let them know about your gift. You’ll be spreading the word about Mormon feminism. You’ll be helping our organization thrive. And you’ll earn yourself a reputation for being a pretty awesome gift-giver, all at the same time.

Subscribe to or buy a gift subscription to Exponent II   here . Your support keeps us going for future generations of Mormon feminists. Every person who buys a subscription this week will be entered into a drawing for “Illuminating Ladies,” Exponent II’s coloring book about Mormon women.

Review: 50 Contemporary Women Artists: Groundbreaking Contemporary Art from 1960 to Now

[image error]50 Contemporary Women Artists: Groundbreaking Contemporary Art from 1960 to Now
John Gosslee and Heather Zises, Editors,
Foreword by Elizabeth Sackler

In his introduction, editor John Gosslee observes that there is no other book out there that focuses solely on contemporary living women artists. “It was shocking, given how many women are progenitors of styles and movements in contemporary art…” (p. 5). I was not shocked to read this. Anyone who had spent any length of time reading feminist art history would have some awareness of this problem. Fortunately, editor Heather Zises and foreword author Elizabeth Sackler bring a greater depth and awareness of women in artists in their short essays. But this review is not about commenting on the book’s words. All of the writing is secondary to its images. The book is an artsy adult picture book that tells a story of contemporary art. It is a resource for thinking about the art that women make in our contemporary world.

The format is straightforward and there is an attempt at rejecting patriarchy in its organization, as the artists are listed alphabetically by first name. Each one has a short bio and there are a handful of examples of their work.

Like any good art historian, I got this book and immediately flipped through the pictures, and only afterward looked for a list of the artists. I only recognized a few names: Kara Walker, Maya Lin, Page Turner, and Judy Chicago. I am a medievalist by training, so my focus has not been on contemporary art. I taught art history in the art department at my university for a decade, but only ever covered the topic at the end of my general education survey class or at the end of my class on twentieth century art. However, as I worked by way through the illustrations, there were many familiar themes that echoed women’s art of the twentieth century.

Perhaps the most dominant of these is the transformation of bodies, typically women’s bodies, into other objects or forms. This produces effects that appeared grotesque, unnerving, or ordinary. These modified bodies serve as a commentary on the ways in which society views women and their bodies and on how women view themselves and their bodies. This theme of transformation encourages viewers to consider what society asks of women individually and collectively. None of these bodies get to be purely and wholly human, there is always another agenda at work.

This theme recalls the work of Surrealists in the early twentieth century, one of the first Western art movements to embrace women’s participation. E.V. Day’s sculptures of bound and suspended women’s legs reminded me of Surrealist artist Dorothea Tanning’s Rainy Day Canape (1970). Eugenia Loli’s Knots (2016) pairs nicely with Magritte’s Son of Man (1946). The furry legs of Firelei Báez’s Palmas por Marti (novias que no esperan) (2016) remind me of the sensuality and uselessness of Méret Oppenheim’s Object (1936).

When I saw the list of artists named, my heart swelled with pride to see one of our own listed next to the likes of Kara Walker and Judy freakin‘ Chicago. Page Turner is the art editor for Exponent II and her assemblage work has appeared on the cover of the magazine. It is unusual for people in the contemporary art scene to take notice of religious artists, but Page’s approach to her Mormon heritage is both sympathetic and compellingly innovative. There are no sheep or men in bathrobes pretending to be Jesus in her work. She rejects the artificiality of painterly realism for a mysticism that is rooted in the unpretentiousness of everyday objects. As someone who hates the Renaissance and its legacy of beauty-as-divinity, I’m a huge fan.

[image error]Page Turner, Matriarch to Millions (2010)

My favorite piece is one that I have seen in the magazine and is reproduced in this book. Page made Matriarch to Millions (left) in 2010 with a slender glass container dressed in a skirt of assorted vintage fabrics. The ruffles have an inviting texture and there is a watch face at the top of the skirt. Feathers take the place of the figures’s arms. I imagine that I could find all of these sorts of items in my multi-generational Mormon mother-in-law’s sewing closet.

The figure itself recalls the iconography of the ancient Greek Hellenistic sculpture Nike of Samothrace (below), with its lack of head, wings, and drapery folds. In a Mormon context, I read this figure as a suggestion of Heavenly Mother as Mother Time, who is divine and yet embedded in the ordinary elements of Mormon women’s lives. She is shut away in an attractive glass case, both present and distant, symbolically visible but unavailable. 

[image error]Nike of Samothrace, c. 200 BCE, parian marble, Louvre, Paris.

The main critique I have of this book is its lack of inclusiveness, which is typical of art history. Of the 50 women artists included in the book, perhaps 15 are not from the United States, Canada, or Western Europe. As far as I can see, the editors did not include artists from central or South America, the Pacific Islands, Eastern Europe, Central Asia, or Africa, even as art historians are spending more time researching the contemporary art histories of these places. The group of 50 women includes few women of color and, as far as I can see, no indigenous women. I do not see LGBTQ identities or disability referenced in any of the bios. Art history, as a discipline, must create more space for narratives that are critical of colonization, heteronormativity, and cisgender and ableist perspectives. Feminist art historians, artists, and critics do not conquer the rigid patriarchy of the art world without them. This lack of diversity limits the conversation to mostly artists whose work falls within the heritage of Western art, whose narratives we should actively challenge. There is much to like about this book, but we must do better.