In John Berger’s highly regarded book Ways of Seeing, he closed his chapter on the nude by posing a challenge: “Choose from this book an image of a traditional nude. Transform the woman into a man. Either in your mind’s eye or by drawing on the reproduction. Then notice the violence which that transformation does. Not to the image, but to the assumptions of a likely viewer.”
It seems a simple experiment. Can we change white into black and black into white, flip the script and see it anew? It is what Berlin-based photographer Hani Hape has attempted to do in her new photographic series, Helmut Newton As Seen By Hani Hape, which features recreations of Newton’s famous – or infamous – overtly sexual photographs of female nudes, replacing them with images of men.
Talking to the German website Monopol, in an article headlined “It’s not easy to find men who drop their pants”, Hape explains that the idea came to her after she began questioning the lack of sexualised male nudes in art. “How can it be,” she says, “that the world is full of female nudity and there are hardly any pictures of erotic men? Women are likely to have a similar interest in their sexual partners as men do. Newton’s work is the prime example of the female nude photograph. He created icons with them.”
Hape is right. These “icons” no doubt stem from a culture dictated by (male) old masters, who idealised the female nude through their portrayals of Venus. Images that have negatively enforced gender roles, perpetuated an inherent heteronormativity, and emphasised how, as Berger wrote, “men act and women appear”.
Hape plays with this idea further. Her photos have now been published in a book titled Sakura, meaning cherry blossom, which weighs 1.2kg. This is in direct contrast to Sumo, the 35kg book Newton published. In this way, Hape is questioning, literally, the cultural weight and price of a man’s art over a woman’s, given that copy No 1 of Sumo fetched a record 620,000 German-marks (about £272,000) at auction in 2000. Would a female photographer’s book go for the same price? And what does it tell us about our society if objectified images of female nudes can fetch such huge sums?
I am also fascinated by how widely accepted Newton’s images are, despite the criticism that his work is “pornographic-chic”. Although the response to Hape’s work has been predominantly positive, some objections were voiced by men. And when she asked hotels to exhibit her work, she was told, on one occasion, that it didn’t “fit the setup of the house”. This speaks volumes about the normalisation of female nudes in such spaces, where they are seen as chic (and unthreatening). Clearly, we have a long way to go before the male gaze stops being the default gaze.
Newton’s images are, fundamentally, derogatory towards women. But I don’t agree that this means we should objectify men. History, especially art history, has scraped away at women’s identities, valuing them as the object and dismissing their individuality. Although Hape mentions in the interview that her male models are “choreographers, computer scientists, psychologists”, they still don’t feel like much more than just a spectacle for my gaze.
Additionally, there is an ahistorical element to Hape’s images. The objectification of women has been bound up in shame for millennia, ever since Eve was blamed for tempting Adam in Genesis, the woman’s divine punishment being to remain forever subservient to the man. Consequently, men may not feel shame when they look at these pictures in the same way that women may when looking at Newton’s.
So what is the answer? I don’t think sexism can be solved by simply flipping something on its head. It’s about creating a fresh space, a new set of rules that benefit everyone. It doesn’t work to have one gender dominating another, nor for that to be reversed. I believe the value of Hape’s series is to spark a discussion around these complex issues. Her work also challenges Berger’s remarks. What if, rather than switching the gender of the subject, we could instead switch the gender of the creator? What would change if the creator had a similar anatomy to the subject’s, and who therefore understood its depths? It’s a potent thought, given Berger failed to reference a single artwork by a woman in his book.
Explaining why she referenced Newton, Hape says: “I didn’t want to do a niche project, but was looking for a strong reference that many people know, to challenge established viewing habits.” She is definitely on the right track here: sometimes you need a strong reference to challenge long-held assumptions. The discussion can lead to bigger and more important changes – and, ultimately, pave the way to equality.
