Cindy Sherman Untitled #93: What was she made for?
It’s cliche, I know, to respond to Barbenheimer. However, upon my 2nd viewing of Greta Gerwig’s “Barbie”, (Oppenheimer is a story for another time) I discovered something buried considerably deep. A truth visualized in Cindy Sherman’s Untitled #93. Both works left me quietly weeping in very public spaces. I realize in my adopted existence, I lack the fundamental knowledge of knowing “What was I made for?” The movie’s title track, composed by the ubiquitous Billie Eilish, verbalizes what our favorite doll was thinking, what I am thinking. There, lightly holding the hand of her creator Ruth, Barbie stares into her future for the first time. This moment, pregnant with boldness, fills my throat with a lump. This doll, this blonde doll, plays into the hands of every hand that holds her. Their dreams and visions imprinted onto her. Has she ever assumed the role of creator herself? In Sherman’s Untitled #93, we are the creator imprinting our story onto the blonde in the bed. In this year of self discovery and a return to a creator role myself, I attempt to uncover for myself this mystery. “What was I made for?” Surrendered at birth, and loved by those who claimed me, I metaphorically hold the hands of a creator I never knew, my own. A blonde doll forever staring into my future, I felt like the girl in Untitled #93. Laying in bed unsure and waiting for you, the reader, the viewer, the creator to tell me my story. Does Barbie ever get to create her future? This year I reclaimed my role returning to my studio as a creator and not a problem solver for hire. Utilizing a skill I taught myself as a child (and a little help from Bob Ross), over 30 years ago, using brushes and oiled pigment to create a story born of my imagination. I think of my mother who gave birth to me while studying this very skill. No longer the blonde doll, I dye my blonde locs red. I become Ruth. I become Mother. I become my creator. My paintings, my dolls, my daughters, here for you to decide their story.
Cindy Sherman: Untitled #93