For, or against?
That is not the debate. Not here, not now.
This is, however, a mere first attempt at illustrating the woes of women and individuals who have tried, over the years, to visually portray the emotion and experience in relation to the topic of abortion and women’s reproductive rights.
The word ‘terminate’ bears a most intimate and personal connotation to anyone who has ever undergone the ‘process’. Its non-exclusivity is, however, deceiving, and placed in context, it paints a graphic picture.
The making, production, and creation of art is generally sensitive, receptive; it responds to stimuli – personal, social, political, contextual and environmental. Strangely, however, the topic of abortion doesn’t seem to have produced anything in visual terms; at least, not in Malta and not of the overt kind. But I stand (and hope) to be corrected on this.
The same cannot be said for theatre and the performing arts sector. Roughly a year ago, in October 2018, Spazju Kreattiv hosted a production written and directed by Herman Grech, titled De-Terminated: The Abortion Diaries. Less than a year later, out of the five one-act plays submitted to MADC’s annual competition at least two tackled the subject directly: Nina by Luke Baldacchino and Hush Little Baby by Audrey Rose Mizzi. The latter told the story of an imaginary man whose life could have only been informed through the alternative choices of his would-be mother.
The past several weeks of research for topical and pertinent visual art examples on the local front have borne little success, yet the findings are nonetheless worth mentioning. Malta-based subversive cross-stitch maker and creative Den Deville created a series of pieces focusing on pro-choice ideologies and women’s rights specifically for the September 28 rally – Malta’s first ever rally for choice. Her work is simple, direct and impactful.
The second discovery was not specifically tied to the subject; the visuals do, however, bring abortion firmly to mind. Jesmond Vassallo’s Eugenic Landscape series (2017) comprises several pieces in the form of limited-edition prints and paintings. The abstracted works vary in terms of the level of graphic content, wherein sharp, pointed utensils seem to be piercing what can immediately be associated with a foetus. The series culminates with the works that include pairs of hands wielding menacing chopstick-like instruments that prod at the organically-shaped mass. The series title may be self-explanatory, yet the inherent ‘threat’ depicted seems to go beyond manipulation.
Austin Camilleri’s Jelly Babies Series also comes to mind in this respect, as do his numerous installations and sculptural works such as Hello (2001) and Capital Sins (2000-2001). Similarly, Enriquè Tabone’s sculptural piece titled OM (2015), which was initially presented during the Mara – Perspettivi exhibition, is a strong visual representation of what appears as bloodied and somewhat butchered female genitalia. Even so, there doesn’t seem to have been a Maltese or Malta-based artist to have tackled the subject head-on, and presented it publicly as such. Not that the topic has been dealt with extensively by European or international artists, mind you, yet it has been addressed directly, and the efforts by the main exponents deserve to be noted.
The first and most immediate association is with Portuguese painter Paula Rego and her Untitled. The Abortion Pastels series. The body of work dates to over two decades ago – specifically to 1998, when the painter felt compelled to react to Portugal’s referendum to legalise abortion. Although the work can hardly be called graphic, there is no shred of doubt as to what the subject it depicts: women, girls, in the throes of an abortion; alone and uncomforted.
Seen in silo, each of these works is almost painful to behold; together, they tell a story that is representative and relevant to the country’s history where women’s reproductive rights are concerned.
Another artist whom I cannot fail to mention is Tracey Emin, whose panoply of works was produced post-1990 after a botched abortion. The poignant and confessional video piece titled How it Feels, together with numerous ink and watercolour works which were on show as recently as last April at the White Cube Bermondsey, are testament to the artist’s constant need to exorcise this, and other, traumatic experiences.
On a different yet still relevant plane are works produced by Frida Kahlo, which illustrate her personal (and reproductive) journey; this is especially manifest in the brutally-honest and auto-descriptive paintings titled My Birth (1932) and Henry Ford Hospital (1932) produced following her agonising miscarriage.
Another strong example worth noting is the controversial case of Yale student Aliza Shvarts, whose proposed 2008 senior thesis was a performance art piece covering a nine-month period, during which she inseminated herself with donated sperm on the ninth and 15th days of her cycle. On the 28th day, she administered herself with herbal medications to induce menses or a miscarriage. Shvarts never knew whether or not she had been pregnant.
Her project thesis was rejected by the University and she had to submit an alternate one. Yale admitted that the University ‘had been unable to determine with clarity whether Ms Shvarts had, in fact, undertaken actions injurious to her health in carrying out her original project’.
Out of all the examples described above, it is the documentative and research-based photographic publication by Laia Abril, On Abortion and the Repercussions of the Lack of Access (A History of Misogyny Chapter 1), which stands out as a heart-breaking yet relevant ‘art piece’ on the subject. The book carries personal accounts as much as it describes methods of contraception and (dangerous) auto-abortive ‘techniques’.
There are plenty more examples portraying the subject, together with valid artists across art forms who have contributed to the evolving narrative. However, there seems to be a pattern inherent of, and emerging from, the representation of the topic of abortion: the painful subject often translates into pained representations by artists who use their mediums for therapeutic, cathartic purposes – for themselves but also for their viewers. Yet there have also been artists who have chosen to ‘use’ the subject as a means of propaganda or activism for women’s rights. For this reason, it would be most interesting to analyse any material or artworks that were produced for the September 28 rally, together with those produced by anti-choice organisations as a counter-argument.
Maltese and Malta-based artists tend to play it safe when reacting to strong external stimuli, many succumbing to self-censorship. However, in recent years, we’ve seen artists react to the climate and migrant crises, to the over-development of the Island, to political corruption and so on. Perhaps now is the time to tackle the subject of abortion.
This article first appeared in Sunday Circle magazine.