The Story of Art Without Men

by Katy Hessel

Probing ideas of theatricality, contradiction (power v. vulnerability, truth v. fiction, history v. the contemporary, presence v. absence), and the use of self as both model and photographer, Francesca Woodman (1958–81) created in her short life over 800 photographs. Raised between Denver and Tuscany in an artistic family (her mother was the famed ceramicist Betty Woodman), Woodman first picked up a camera aged thirteen. Although that’s nothing these days, her Self-Portrait at 13, 1972, feels so sophisticated and technically advanced, while also evocative of her later style: a visibly shielded face, bodies dissolving and evolving in and out of focus, and employing what became her signature small-scale, square, black-and-white format. Studying at the Rhode Island School of Design, with a highly influential year abroad in Italy, Woodman used everything from scientific laboratories to derelict-looking interiors (with exposed floorboards and peeling wallpapers) as sets for her atmospheric photographs. Distorting her semi-nude or nude body using a long shutter speed for movement, and shards of shattered glass or mirrors for harsh lines and light, Woodman pushed the limits of photography and built a space, much like her contemporaries, between the real and surreal. When Woodman moved to New York in 1979, though, she struggled to find work and exhibited very little. Many records remain of her brilliant, but unsuccessful, grant applications. We don’t know why, but in January 1981,...