Saturday, February 22, 2014

Women's Views on News

Women's Views on News


Photography exhibition: Letizia Battaglia

Posted: 21 Feb 2014 09:07 AM PST

Letizia Battaglia, photograhper, exhibition, Open Eye Gallery, LiverpoolSicilian photographer and photojournalist Letizia Battaglia: exhibition in Liverpool.

Letizia Battaglia worked on the front-line as a photo-reporter during one of the most tragic periods in contemporary Italian history, known as the 'anni di piombo' – 'the years of (flying) lead'.

She took up photography in the early 1970s, when she realised that, as a journalist, it was easier to place her articles in newspapers and magazines if these were accompanied by images.

After a short period spent in Milan, where she met her partner and collaborator Franco Zecchin, Letizia Battaglia returned to Sicily in 1974. After relocating to Palermo and regularly contributing to the daily L'Ora, she became the pictures editor until the newspaper was shut down in 1990.

Over the years, Battaglia has recorded her love/hate relationship to her home country with (com)passion and dedication, often putting her life at risk.

By alternating stark images of death, graphic violence and intimidation connected to the Mafia with poetic still-life photos and intense portraiture of children and women, Battaglia provides a textured and layered narrative of that country.

"[These were] eighteen years in which the ferocious Corleonesi mafia clan would claim the lives of governors, senior policemen, entire mafia families and, ultimately, two of Battaglia's dearest friends: the anti-mafia judges Giovanni Falcone and Paolo Borsellino," Peter Jinks wrote in The Observer in 2012.

Battaglia didn’t only photograph corpses. She ranged across Sicily, taking in religious festivals, psychiatric hospitals, crumbling slums and aristocratic salons.

She no longer does reportage, and told Jinks she was “too old to keep walking the streets”, but she regularly visits schools and attends anti-mafia events.

“It means setting an example,” she said. “It means opposing the mafia in everything that I say and buy and eat. Every person that I meet, every gesture that I make, it’s all connected to the need to liberate my country from the mafia.”

“The mafia can be beaten,” she said, “but only if people stop voting for dishonest politicians. It’s no longer just a Sicilian problem. It’s all over Italy.”

The selected works on show at Liverpool's Open Eye Gallery from 22 February illustrate this period and document Battaglia's attempt to come to terms with that history and reconcile her love for her country with the memory of some very dramatic events.

The Open Eye Gallery in Liverpool exhibition of her work is her first in the UK.

Letizia Battaglia was born in 1935 in Palermo, Sicily. In 1985, she became a politician, hoping to take on the mafia. “I lasted 10 years,” she told the Guardian recently. “In retrospect, I only wasted time I could have dedicated to photography.”

Drawing from her personal archive, comprising of over 600,000 images, this exhibition showcases work spanning from the mid 1970s to the early 1990s and also includes some recent projects.

The exhibition offers a unique opportunity to approach her genre-defining photographic practice – often linked to that of American 'crime' photographer Weegee – and reflect on the role of photography as an individual and collective means for taking action, bearing witness, providing evidence and documenting history.

The exhibition, Letizia Battaglia: Breaking The Code of Silence, runs from 22 February until 4 May.

‘Brave’ and prepubescent power fantasies

Posted: 21 Feb 2014 04:10 AM PST

Brave and the legacy of female prepubescent power fantasies, bitch flicks‘Brave’ and the legacy of female prepubescent power fantasies. Our regular cross-post from Bitchflicks.

Brave is actually situated within a somewhat prolific trope of female prepubescent power fantasy tales.

By Amanda Rodriguez.

I liked Disney Pixar's Brave well enough. It's pretty enough. It's a story about a mother and daughter, and there was no romance, both of which are nice; though, as I'll show, neither are as uncommon as they might initially appear. I didn't find the feminist qualities of this movie to be particularly impressive. Brave is actually situated within a somewhat prolific trope of female prepubescent power fantasy tales. Within this trope, young girls are allowed and even encouraged to be strong, assertive, creative, and heroes of their own stories. I call them "feminism lite" because these characters are only afforded this power because they are girl children who are unthreatening in their prepubescent, pre-sexualized state.

Let's consider a few examples.

First, we've got Matilda, a film based on the eponymous novel by Roald Dahl. This story is about a genius six-year-old girl who realizes she has telekinetic powers. Matilda is brave and kind to those who deserve it and punishes authority figures who take advantage of their positions of power. This story, similar to Brave, is about the budding (surrogate) mother/daughter relationship between Matilda and her kindergarten teacher, Miss Honey. They find idyllic happiness at the end of the film when they adopt each other to form their own little family.

Then there's Harriet the Spy, based on the book by Louise Fitzhugh, about an inquisitive, imaginative girl who learns the power of her voice and how her words affect others. Another potent mother/daughter bond is featured between Harriet and her nanny, Golly.

We can't forget Pippi Longstocking, based on the book series by Astrid Lindgren. Pippi is independent and adventurous with a slew of fantastical stories. She also has incredible physical strength, exotic pets, and teaches her friends Tommy and Annika that just because the trio are children, doesn't mean experiences and desires should be denied them.

There's also Whale Rider, based on the book by Witi Ihimaera. Pai is a determined young girl who wants to become the chief of her Māori tribe, but that is forbidden because she's a girl. With wisdom and vision, Pai strives to unite and lead her people into the future. She is dedicated, stubborn and perseveres, showing she has the uncanny spiritual ability to speak with (and ride) whales.

One of my personal favorites is Pan's Labyrinth (or El Labertino del Fauno – "The Labyrinth of the Faun" in Spanish). Interestingly, Pan's Labyrinth is the first on our list that wasn't based on a book, as it was written and directed by Guillermo del Toro. The film takes place in post Civil War Spain with young Ofelia as our heroine. She is forced to live with her fascist captain stepfather who hunts down rebels while her mother languishes in a difficult pregnancy. Totally isolated, Ofelia retreats into a dark fantasy world replete with fairies, fauns, and child-eating monsters. In this world (that may or may not truly exist), she is a long-lost immortal underworld princess trying to make her way home. Throughout the tale, Ofelia forms a strong connection with Merecedes, a kitchen maid who is not only secretly a rebel spy, but is brave and crazy badass. Ofelia is intelligent, defiant, loyal, and ultimately self-sacrificing.

All of these stories validate young female agency because all these girls are prepubescent. They are too young and too physically underdeveloped to be objectified or vilified for their sexuality. There are tales that continue to advocate for the empowerment of their slightly older heroines despite their budding sexuality. These are pseudo coming-of-age films. I say "pseudo" here because the main characters don't actually become sexual beings.

A great contemporary example of a pseudo coming-of-age tale is the action-thriller Hanna, starring the talented Saoirse Ronan as a 14-year-old CIA experiment with enhanced DNA to make her the optimal weapon. She is trained in arctic isolation and is therefore unsocialized and unschooled in the ways of the world. Most of the film centers around her mission to kill Cate Blanchett's evil CIA agent character, Marissa. However, there is an interlude when Hanna befriends brash young Sophie who is eager to grow up. The two sneak out and go dancing, and a boy kisses Hanna. Our young heroine is at first intrigued and even enraptured by the experience, but she ends up knocking the boy to the ground and nearly breaking his neck. Later, there is also sexual tension between Hanna and Sophie as the two lie next to each other in a tent, falling asleep, but nothing comes of it. These are examples of Hanna's awakening sexuality, which the film insinuates may ultimately be terrifying in its power and lack of boundaries. Hanna, though, is still young and chooses her father and his indoctrination over her own self-discovery.

Not to forget Jim Hanson's classic Labyrinth starring Jennifer Connelly as Sarah, a teenager who is enthralled by the fantasy of the Labyrinth along with its alluring goblin king, Jereth (aka David Bowie in an impressive Tina Turner mullet wig). Sarah withdraws from her family, yearning for adventure and romance while hating her obligation to babysit her "screaming baby" brother, Toby, so she calls on the goblin king to take the boy away. She then spends the rest of the movie trying to get the toddler back. Jareth attempts to seduce her into forgetting the child and being his goblin queen, which is what Sarah initially wanted, but, in the end, she chooses her family and fantastical goblin friends over love, romance, and her sexuality. At the end of the film when she says to her goblin friends, "I need you; I need you all," she is affirming that she's not ready for adulthood and wants to remain a child a bit longer. Her intact innocence is what allows her to be uncomplicatedly triumphant, to assert her equality with and independence from Jareth.

To be empowered, all the aforementioned heroines must remain perpetually young, fixed forever in their prepubescent state within the reels of their films. Once our heroines become sexual teens, their power is overwhelmingly defined by their sexuality, and/or their worth is determined by their body's objectification. In fact, many of these tales are no longer fantasies, but horror movies (or movies that have horror qualities) that demonize female sexual awakenings. I don't even want to disgrace the hallowed web pages of Bitch Flicks with an obvious account of the worthless Twilight series that equates female sexuality with death and advocates teen pregnancy over reproductive rights. However, Bella is a prime example of a young woman whose own self-value is dependent on how the male characters view her. She is the apex of a noxious love triangle, and her desirability defines her, creating the entire basis of the poorly acted, poorly produced saga.

Ginger Snaps clearly fits the mold of the vilification of budding female sexuality. Ginger gets her period for the first time and is therefore attacked by a werewolf. The attack has rape connotations, implying that Ginger wouldn't have been as enticing to the wolf if she weren't yet sexual, especially since her mousy sister Brigitte is spared. Ginger goes through a series of changes, becoming sexually aggressive and promiscuous. When she has unprotected sex with a boy, turning him into a werewolf, this further underscores the connection between Ginger's monstrous lycanthropy and her unchecked sexuality. There's also a great deal of sexual tension between Ginger and her sister, Brigitte, suggesting that her sexuality is boundless and therefore frightening.

Lastly, we have the pseudo-feminist film Teeth about a young girl who grows teeth on her vagina (vagina dentata style). Our teenage heroine, Dawn, is in one of those Christian abstinence/purity clubs, and everything is fine until she becomes attracted to and makes out with a boy. The film punishes her for her newfound sexuality and mocks her abstinence vow by having the boy rape her. Dawn's vagina then bites off his penis. Over the course of the movie, Dawn is essentially sexually assaulted four times. Four times. She is degraded from the beginning of the film to the very end. Her supposedly empowerful teeth-laden vagina is a dubious gift, considering she generally must be raped in order to use it. Instead of focusing on the power of her sexuality and the awesome choice she has of whether or not to wield it, the film victimizes her at every corner, undercutting her potential strength and sexual agency.

Basically, Brave isn't really that brave of a film. It's traipsing through a well-established trope that, though positive, is stagnant. Don't get me wrong; I love all the prepubescent female power fantasy tales I've listed, and I'm grateful that they exist and that I could grow up with many of them. However, we can't pretend that Brave is pushing any boundaries. It sends the message that little girls can be powerful as long as they remain little girls. The dearth of representations of postpubescent heroines who are not objectified, whose sexuality does not rule their interactions, and who are the heroes of their own stories is appalling. There may be exceptions, but my brain has a fairly to moderately comprehensive catalog of films, especially those starring strong female characters. Scanning … scanning … file not found. If I, who actively seek out films that use integrity in their depictions of kickass women, can't think of many, how is the casual viewer to find them? How is the teenage girl coming into her sexuality while facing negativity and recriminations supposed to see herself portrayed in a light that gives her the opportunity to be nuanced, smart and brave, to be independent or to be a leader?

Amanda Rodriguez is an environmental activist living in Asheville, North Carolina. She holds a BA from Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio and an MFA in fiction writing from Queens University in Charlotte, NC. She writes all about food and drinking games on her blog Booze and Baking. Fun fact: while living in Kyoto, Japan, her house was attacked by monkeys.

Warning: exercise might damage women’s health

Posted: 21 Feb 2014 01:09 AM PST

sochi, winter olympics, women ski-jumping, marathon, boxing, pseudo-medical claptrapDaft pseudo-scientific excuses have been used to exclude women from sports.

It may have taken 90 years, but women were finally able to compete in the ski-jumping at this year’s winter Olympic Games at Sochi.

Although women have been ski-jumping since Ingrid Vestby first soared through the Norwegian skies in 1862, at the Olympics the competition has been 'men-only' since the first Games in 1924.

The inclusion this winter of women's ski-jumping in the Games was the result of a long battle.

Women ski-jumpers have repeatedly petitioned the International Olympic Committee (IOC) to be able to compete in the games.

And in the run up to the 2010 Vancouver winter Olympics, a group of women ski-jumpers even sued the Vancouver Organising Committee for flouting Canada's anti -discrimination law.

The judge agreed that the IOC was discriminating in forbidding women's ski-jumping, but she ruled against the group as she believed British Columbia’s law courts did not have jurisdiction over the Olympic Committee.

The ensuing public furore and the media attention women's exclusion in 2010 generated did, however, help pave the way for the inclusion of the sport in the 2014 games.

Why this resistance to women's ski jumping?

Some officials, including the President of the IOC in 2010, argued that the pool of competitors was too small and that including this sport in the Olympics would 'dilute the medals'.

Strange then, that the IOC introduced the new sport of ski-cross to the 2010 Olympics, which reportedly had fewer high-level competitors than women's ski-jump.

And anyway, excluding a sport from the Olympics for this reason is a bit of a catch-22 – without inclusion in the Olympics, it is hard for a sport to attract the necessary funding to increase the numbers of competitors.

The strangest argument, however, for not wanting women in the games was that it could be dangerous to their health.

Because hurtling down a mountain at 60 miles per hour and flying 150m isn't dangerous at all for men.

No, ski-jumping was deemed particularly dangerous for women because of their 'fragile' reproductive organs and 'limited energy reserves'.

In the 19th century it was believed that ski-jumping could make your uterus 'unmoor' and make women infertile.

This notion was still prevalent in the 1950s.

Fast-forward 50 years, and attitudes hadn't progressed very far.  In a now infamous interview in 2005, Gian Franco Kasper, a member of the IOC who was head of the International Ski Committee, said, "Don’t forget, it’s like jumping down from, let’s say, about two meters on the ground about a thousand times a year, which seems not to be appropriate for ladies from a medical point of view."

This is a story that has been played out time and again in the history of women and sports – women fighting for inclusion as those resisting change offer pseudo-scientific excuses to maintain the status quo and reinforce the idea that sport isn't for women.

After the 1928 Olympics all women's races longer than 200m were dropped from the Games because it was feared long-distance running caused infertility and premature ageing.

The first woman to run the Boston marathon, Kathrine Switzer, had been told that running long distances would cause her uterus to fall out. In 1967.

The British Boxing Board of Control only gave a woman a licence to box in 1998 when Jane Couch won a landmark case against the Board for sex discrimination; they had previously argued that  premenstrual tension made women "too unstable" to box.

In 1997 Frank Maloney, champion heavyweight boxer Lennox Lewis's manager, is said to have called a women's match he had watched a "freak show".

It was only in 2012 that women's boxing was accepted as an Olympic sport – and even then women had to fight a proposal that they wear skirts in the ring.

The notion that PMS and 'fragile' reproductive organs make women fragile and unsuitable for certain activities has been around for centuries.

And using medical 'authority' to reinforce the patriarchal structure and control women was particularly popular in the 19th century.

But to hear these tropes persist well into the 20th, and even 21st century, is dire.

Not only does it smack of a fear of and quasi-revulsion over women's bodies, but it places women's bodies under public control.

A trope that may well have evolved from the theory that sport is dangerous to women is the idea that sport is ‘unsuitable’ for women because it does not match up to ‘feminine’ ideals.

A survey in 2012 revealed that schoolgirls in the UK were put off sport because it was deemed 'unfeminine'.

Combine these social attitudes with a lack of funding and a lack of exposure, and it's a wonder we have any sportswomen at all.

There is still significant progress for the Winter Olympics to make: allow women to compete in the Nordic jump, increase the number of women’s events (although, for example, women can compete in the ski-jump, they only have one event to the men's three) and increase their distances.

Yet, the Games have come a long way. If you look back at the inaugural 1924 Games, there were only 11 women competitors altogether, and they could only compete in figure-skating.