Cindy Sherman is known for her untitled photographs from the 1970s, published in a series called Film Stills. These images created a new identity for the audience of the media of that era. Behind the mask of repeatedly seen faces, Sherman was multiplying herself. This self was no longer herself. Anyone could be that self, precisely anyone who was the audience of those media. Since then, as media expanded and advanced, this self did not remain static in the form of those film stills but was presented in alignment with the trends of the times—more, faster, and more diversely than before. It was as if there was no competition left to strive for, as technology and its easy access encouraged this multiplication.
Cindy Sherman’s latest exhibition took place at Hauser and Wirth Gallery in winter 2024, in the SoHo neighborhood of New York City. This is the same neighborhood that hosted the Film Stills series in the 1970s. In this new collection, we encounter fresh patterns. These are multi-faceted versions resulting from the ease of reproduction tools and, at the same time, the aging of the artist behind the frames. For the first time in this collection, we see a combination of shape-shifting tools, digital montage, and Sherman’s manual layering. She describes that artificial intelligence helped inspire a similar exhibition in Zurich, Switzerland.
Her new works are more formative than character-driven as before. Exaggerated mouth movements, eye rotations, and facial muscle distortions create grotesque, funny, or foolish faces. They emphasize and focus on the hidden aspects of a woman who has passed middle age and is now entering old age. The inevitable lines and wrinkles now boldly show themselves, as if paving the way for a new understanding of what she calls the male gaze. She mentions that this gaze decreases for aging women. This statement has several aspects. Is this gaze the desired visibility of women, which fades in the twilight of youth? Or is it the objectifying and disturbing gaze towards women? The gaze Sherman discusses in her new collection is reminiscent of what British critic John Berger talks about: "Men look at women. Women watch themselves being looked at." This look and being looked at is an inseparable part of being male and female.
In Sherman’s recent collection, we face a woman. She is undoubtedly one person, someone who could be anyone. Any woman who experiences aging and reduced visibility with nostalgia and a look back at the past, attracting male gazes, or even mocking it. This nostalgia recalls Hal Foster’s critique of Sherman in describing the perennial gap between the present self and the ideal self—a gap filled by movie stars, athletes, and media idols.
Sherman explains the technical aspects and execution of her work, detailing how various black-and-white parts were digitally connected and then colored with patches. Made-up lips, colored eyes, and often white and neat teeth are colored in most works to make a greater impact. But exactly what impact and on what? It seems like she wants to draw attention to them to better show a contrast or perhaps an inevitable blending that happens over time. The colored patches gradually fade and merge into the gray background, hinting at the passage of time and the fading of what we see. The photo layering technique in Sherman’s new collection, like a disjointed collage, aligns with the fluid human identity. For instance, in photos 646 and 659, as we get closer to the frame, the disjointedness of the elements becomes more apparent. Even the gray skin tone in the image is not uniform. It’s as if the high-society, top-down gaze has been replaced by a doll made of disparate parts. This kind of collage recalls Rosalind Krauss’s critique of Sherman’s Untitled series, where she says that the collection is not about finding a new character but shows how connecting different elements and playing with makeup, light, and the camera creates a character.
Sherman considers one of the works in the new collection more comparable to the Film Stills series. It depicts a woman wrapped in a white towel around her head and chest, with only her face visible (photo 661). She appears to have just come out of the shower or is going to a spa. Sherman finds it somewhat too narrative, probably referring to its explicit characterization. This woman is from the bourgeois class. Such a classification is hard to discern in other works of this collection.
Another notable aspect of Sherman’s last exhibition is the arrangement of the frames and the size of the prints. Viewing and following the works seems simple and direct. The choice of black frames and white mats creates a white-cube-like effect. The photos are positioned at the viewer's eye level, and most of them are about one hundred by seventy centimeters in size (except for a few smaller works on the middle wall). This size and spacing give the viewer the opportunity to experience each photo individually and with more contemplation.
The fact that Sherman’s works remain untitled is thought-provoking in itself. A woman creating various selves through layers of presence, meaning, and personality, changing colors, and donning different garments, perhaps trying to evoke something new from the old selves. She says she has no title. You should name me as you like and know. Untitled, in fact, is a resonant title. It keeps the audience from any misinterpretation and secondary readings, allowing them to see and read exactly what is in front of them.
Looking back a few decades at Sherman’s work, we see her not in confrontation with technology but riding on it. Like any curious artist, she marvels at the speed of sharing and easy access to things and even attempts to use it for the entertainment of her virtual world. Elsewhere, she views her Instagram posts as games with various apps on her phone, done in her free time. Although she does not consider them serious works, she notes that they are merely for fun and refers to comments comparing them to her old works. This requires courage, and sharing them with over 400,000 followers opens a door to the creative thought space of a renowned artist like Cindy Sherman.
Sherman also talks about experimenting with artificial intelligence to create images in her style and calls the result pathetic. It seems she is pleased that such a thing has not been achievable until now, but acknowledges that it may be possible in the near future. This reflects the curiosity, fear, and hope that has recently penetrated the realm of art and the concept of being an artist.
Sherman explains how transitioning from analog photography and darkroom work to digital space has been beneficial for her. She mentions that working alone, having to change makeup, wigs, and costumes after a few shots, and waiting in the darkroom to see if the results are as desired, is not usually effective. Reattempting to recreate out-of-focus photos or the desired mood is hard and time-consuming. This is why she finds digital photography to be much more productive. If we extend this shift to a broader step, such as using commercial apps or even artificial intelligence, can we still call them Sherman’s works? Colorful filters, diverse and pleasing beauty, and accessibility now allow anyone to be as old, young, beautiful, funny, or attractive as they wish. Isn’t this exactly what Sherman has been trying to show for years?
Considering the advancements and easy access to photo production tools in the past decade, many questions arise. For instance, who is the photographer? Who owns the photo? Can anyone be an artist? And which self, constantly changing, is the real self? Regardless of how we answer these questions and how much we agree with each other, one thing cannot be ignored. An artist like Cindy Sherman had already introduced us to such practices long ago. She has been presenting this diversity and identity confusion, or whatever we choose to call it, for several decades. Now, as consumers of this fast-paced media, we will engage with it more consciously. We will have the power to read it with greater precision and depth. In her latest exhibition, Sherman shows us frames that each of us can somehow create. We can be the subject and the audience. This easy access is a jolt to enter a new world that we have stepped into.
May 2024
Kaarnamaa Institute of Art and Visual Culture, London, UK
https://www.kaarnamaa.com/about