The Text behind that Cover Girl Smile
In the morning that I would be posing for photographers for an upcoming
profile in Lears magazine I of course dressed myself with more than my customary
attention to detail. The issue of what to wear -slacks suit or dress, basic
black or color, what color, how to do the makeup, the hair, how to control the
presentation of self -became a far more serious undertaking than usual.
Then as I sat in my office awaiting the photographers, I began to muse on how
the images of women in women's magazines are not merely a question of
photographic aesthetics, but are laden with political and social significance.
Considering the amount of money spent to advertise, publish and purchase them
and the number of women who read, subscribe to and buy into their message, their
importance went far beyond the commercial. I began to deduce a sub text behind
the bland beauty of the women pictured in them.
Prior to and immediately after the presidential election, we had been bombarded
with magazine photos of the new women in "power" and I noticed how any notion of
power when it came to women, was conspicuously absent in these purely
traditional female poses. When presenting women, power was projected as a prop,
much like a costume that can be put on and taken off. Now that we have a First
Lady who has real power, a female Attorney General, a Supreme Court justice,
senators, governors, Cabinet members and more women in positions of corporate
and political power than ever before, I was struck by the fact that women's
magazines persist in presenting these and other women in variations of the
classic feminine submissive posture. It is a presentation that signals
accommodation and vulnerability -and it shows us that even when it comes to
women with power, we are portrayed as merely "women" with a power that dares not
show its face.
Particularly compelling was the December28, 1992 issue of Newsweek which
pictured Hillary Clinton on the cover smiling broadly, her head resting on a
closed hand. The cover line read "Women of the Year" and the inside story went
on to present the top women in the new Clinton Administration.
Under the title "Power and Glory," Hillary was posed for the cameras dressed
comfortably in sweaters and slacks, half reclining on the floor, bolstered by a
living room chair. Both the cover image and the one within the magazine could be
characterized as "user friendly," very much like the broadly smiling models and
photos of women in traditional "women's magazines." In so many of these photos,
there is often an implied male presence. He is watching. The woman's facial
expression, makeup, body pose and clothing communicate this. Whoever she is,
whatever she has become, or whatever she may be doing in her world, she must be
presented to us through his eyes, eyes that require that he appear in girlish,
welcoming, non-threatening postures.? These poses are what sociologist Irving
Goffman postulates are the nonverbal communication f photographic images.
Goffman notes that female models of an exhibit what he describes as "head and
body tilting canting postures." These re postures -the lowering of the head for
instance -that communicate an acceptance of a subordinate role with respect to
the viewer of the picture. Goffman sees the posturing of childlike and playful
poses as minimizing the seriousness of women; he calls these "ritualistic
mollifiers." The bashful "knee bend" pose that models exhibit and that can be
described as childlike and trusting, suggests that they are vulnerable to, and
dependent on, those who are viewing them.
What does power look like in a woman, I puzzled? Whatever it is, I was sure it
did not come in the packaged smiles of cover girls who so artfully exhibited
vulnerability, dependence and playfulness. I was determined not to exhibit any
of these postures for the readers of Lears and I lost no time in telling that to
the photographers from the magazine who walked into my office.
"I'm not doing any of that traditional female stuff" I said. "What stuff?" "You
know, cute, playful things -like this" -I then proceeded to parody the classical
cover girl pose: wide eyed smile with chin cupped in hands.
"Well, shall we dress you in a King Kong outfit and hang you from the top of the
building -or how about some jockey shorts?" I was not amused as they began to
take stock of my office and set up. "Listen," said the other, "you know if you
want a traditional male power shot you can always place your hands in the
triangle pose," which he then demonstrated by putting the finger tips of both of
his hands together in front of him. "That's power in male form?" I asked. "Yes,
that's what they always do," he said as he looked around my office for props to
pose me with. He was immediately drawn to the large black desk and beckoned me
to sit behind it. Not satisfied with adopting the male power pose of the 10
fingertips locked in a tent of powerful thought, I decided to try and find an
honest and direct way of showing who I am.
First smiling, then half smiling, then in profile, then full faced, with books,
with artwork, until two hours into the shoot, while I was sitting against the
window, he asked me to pull my legs up and place my arms around my knees. I
started to do it by rote and found that I was automatically assuming one of the
most traditional positions - the playful little girl. "Let's take a break," I
said as I sat up and walked away.
Once again my mind went to the magazines, the ones I had recently collected to
illustrate my point.
ITEM: The ultimate female submissive pose is portrayed by Princess Di on the
cover of New Woman, February 1993. She appears head down, hands crossed under
chin with her eyes childishly looking up towards us the cover line above reads:
"Sex Report? -Are your orgasms normal? Exciting new findings."
ITEM: BBW (Big Beautiful Woman), February 1993: A wind swept blonde turns
towards us with the expression of a deer that has been caught by headlights the
cover line reads: "Are you too sleepy for SEX?"
ITEM: American Woman, February 1993: A broadly smiling blonde, low d飯lletage,
hands coming up towards chin cover line reads: "The One Hour Orgasm?? Erotic
techniques that pro long your pleasure (and his)." Arid to insure that even so
called "career women" are not exempt from the homogenization, Good Housekeeping
has Maria Shriver, a successful media personality, on the cover in a classical
"bashful knee" pose. The cover line reads: "Maria Shriver talks about Arnold,
their daughters, and why she wants to quit her TV job."
The images of models and cover girls that stare out at us so engagingly attempt
to sell us images of ourselves, images made by photographers and advertisers.
The warm, welcoming cover girl is, ironically, the most aggressive and powerful
advertisement a women's magazine can muster. It silently promises us that we too
can look like this, can be this if only we would follow the advice within and
buy the products advertised on its pages.
Back to the Women of the Year and the power and the glory in Newsweek. Tipper
Gore is pictured photographed from behind -holding a camera underneath her bin
as she gazes a in a mirror, seemingly bout to photograph herself. The image
itself is a play on the observer observing he observer. Tipper seems to be
effectively playing the object of the action while in reality she is clearly the
subject. She is the subject of that ubiquitous male onlooker, and our and even
her own gaze. We are not quite sure what she is looking at, she seems to be
looking past us forever in what Goffman calls an "anchored drift," a pose which
shows women mentally drifting away from the situation at hand and which is also
conveyed by the absent, unfocused gaze of many of the cover girls.
The same piece pictures Mandy Grunwald, a media consultant who is described as a
"fearsomely smart woman who is not afraid to be tough and is not afraid of
success." However fearsomely smart she is, she is presented looking downward
leaning on what seems to be a couch containing bed pillows. One shoe is off and
a television set is tuned into Bill Clinton's face. Her body is posed in such
away that his TV image is looking directly towards her crotch.
Has her fearsome smartness been mollified, effectively rendered harmless?
Sandra Day O'Connor, the first and only woman on the Supreme, Court, is
photographed walking down a grand marble staircase. She descends on her black
robe, one hand on the balustrade, one against her breast wearing an open smile,
while her legs assume a particularly female posture -ankles gracefully touching.
She looks like the ultimate
hostess about to greet her guest at' a dinner party, "so good of you to come."
One after another the images assault us,' always smiling, ever ready to
accommodate. They are good girls all, exhibiting a characteristic a "friend"
described Zo렂aird as having: "She gave good daughter." Good daughters are good
girls and don't make trouble or revolutions and they don't have power. At least
not a power that is visible not one that can be recognized and respected.
When power comes dressed in traditional female roles it remains in the closet.
The question is, when will women define their own images -come into their own
definitions of power? Some feminists have all too easily accepted the definition
of power as male, while accurately locating its abuses both 'within individuals
and institutions. But power has many faces -not all of which are authoritarian,
deadly, violent or exploitative. It is up to us to express them -to create and
define them so that we come to recognize ourselves in them and boldly how our
faces
Beauty Marks Smile Music
This season's first four new American musicals all closed the week they opened,
continuing a daunting threeyear run of almost unrelieved financial failure for
what used to be Broadway's mainstay. Staged with varying degrees of artistry,
the ill-fated shows shared one disabling presumption: musicals must be "about"
something beyond melody and romance. Rags tried to survey the immigrant
experience, Honky Tonk Nights blended music hall with racial conflict, Raggedy
Ann was a dying girl's Freudian nightmare, and Into the Light asked whether the
Shroud of Turin is Jesus Christ's burial cloth. All suffocated under the weight
of their ambition.
One might expect the same fate to befall Smile, adapted from a 1975 Michael
Ritchie film that satirized beauty pageants. The narrative, centering on girls
who are strangers, inevitably lacks complex relationships and love interest.
Moreover, it is difficult to write a parody much funnier than the real Miss
America proceedings. And it is hard to keep audiences interested in the climax
-- which entrant will win -- after repeatedly telling them it shouldn't matter.
Curiously, Smile works. It is a swift-paced, skillfully performed and thoroughly
professional entertainment that balances amusement at the shallow ambitions of
the characters with respect for the depth of their feelings. Composer Marvin
Hamlisch (A Chorus Line) and Author-Lyricist Howard Ashman (Little Shop of
Horrors) have written touching songs for the stars, Anne Marie Bobby as a sweet,
awkward A student who realizes she is out of her element at the pageant and Jodi
Benson as a wanderer who is prematurely wise in the ways of selling herself,
including a talent-show "dramatic reading" that turns into a striptease. Smile
may not be a landmark, but it is a pleasure.
'Smile' takes on beauty pageants
Beauty pageants have always been one of Hollywood's favorite targets. Films
such as "Miss Congeniality" and "Drop Dead Gorgeous" poke fun of the big hair,
big teeth and even bigger smiles. It comes as no surprise, then, that musical
theater offers its own take on the subject. The Ann Arbor Civic Theatre's
production of "Smile" this past weekend had all the glitz and glamour of pageant
films, with an added dose of song and a huge helping of heart.
"Smile" tells the tale of the 2003 Young American Miss pageant, a fictional
contest taking place in Santa Rosa, California. Sixteen incoming high-school
seniors from all over the state convene in a hotel, and immediately begin
perfecting their talents, their dancing and, most of all, their widened grins.
Couple Brenda DiCarlo (Elise Stempky) and Big Bob Freelander (David Andrews),
the pageant's organizers, try to keep everything running smoothly, while hoping
to please the show's ticket holders and sponsors.
As with all pageants, things go awry, and "Smile" certainly has its share of
bloopers. Flamboyant dance instructor Tommy French, played to a hilt by Kevin
Gill, insists on having a runway on the pageant stage, while some of the girls,
upset over a Mexican contestant who can whip up a mean batch of guacamole dip,
try to sabotage her chances of winning. And beyond the expected bickering and
gossip among the contestants, there are a few girls who doubt their ability to
triumph, such as girl-next-door Robin Gibson (Kristina Thompson) and perky
blonde Doria Hudson (Kristin Ritter).
While not as sophisticated as, say, "West Side Story," "Smile" is nonetheless a
tricky musical to perform: The dancing numbers, such as "Shine" and "Y.A.M.,"
require a great deal of precision and synchronicity. Thankfully, the A2CT cast
was more than up to the challenge, anchored by the highly-talented chorus of
contestants. The girls were not only in-step, but they also allowed their
characters to shine through. In particular, Lorna Colon as Maria Gonzales hit
all the right notes; striking a balance between saccharine and cunning, she
crafted an endearing, if maybe a tad naﶥ, pageant princess.
The lead roles, though a little underdeveloped, were also handled well. Andrews,
as Big Bob Freelander, brings an aw-shucks quality to his well-intentioned
character, while Stempky steals every scene she's in as Bob's wife. Coming to
grips with her own pageant disappointment 20 years prior, she finally lets out
her frustration on her coworkers, and the result is both funny and a little
scary.
Ritter also strikes gold as one of the more prominent contestants, showing off
her considerable vocal talent on songs such as "Disneyland."
Despite fine performances all-around, the real stars of this production were the
costumes and the lighting. Kudos to designer Susan Pearlman for creating
innovative and colorful outfits that were flattering without going over-the-top.
Similarly, the gold-lit backdrop towards the end of the second act was truly a
sight to behold; one could easily see such a spectacle at a real beauty pageant.
With "Smile," director and choreographer Ron Baumanis truly outdid himself. He
assembled a fine cast, which beautifully brought to life a story that's been
told a thousand times. A2CT productions, always of high quality, have never been
quite this seamless. After viewing a performance like this, one couldn't help
but, well, smile. |
