Three Portraits of Naomi 3: Naomi's Fruit Passion

Introductory Note

The three portraits of London-born supermodel Naomi Campbell that I wish to discuss were all taken by David LaChapelle for an issue of Playboy magazine (1 Dec 1999). As one might expect, all are visually stunning and typical in terms of composition and content of LaChapelle's aesthetico-erotic obsessions at this period. Unfortunately, these obsessions - such as his very obvious black girl fetish - rest upon rather questionable sexual and racial politics  ...     

Naomi Campbell: Fruit Passion (1999)

By David LaChapelle

In the third portrait, Naomi is displayed as the ripest, sweetest and juiciest centrepiece in an exotic fruit salad. Lying passively and provocatively, the object of masturbatory male gaze, she invites us to squeeze, taste, and consume her soft, smooth, easily bruised flesh.

The afro wig serves to remind us of her blackness and of the exotic origin of much of the world's fresh produce. But it also adds an element of nostalgia; the photo has a funky seventies feel to it, a period when Playboy was at its peak in terms of circulation and cultural relevance (the November 1972 issue was the best-selling ever edition of the magazine, with sales topping seven million copies).

The seventies was also the decade during which the sub-genre of exploitation movie known as blaxploitation emerged in the United States. Featuring a mostly black cast and originally developed for an urban black audience, the appeal of these movies quickly spread across racial boundaries as white movie-goers learned to love films such as Shaft (dir. Gordon Parks, 1971), and Foxy Brown (dir. Jack Hill, 1974).

The latter starred the undisputed queen of the genre, Pam Grier, in the title role. Foxy was a whole lot of woman whom you wouldn't want to mess aroun' with, seeing as she was the meanest chick in town; a sexy mix of brown sugar and spice who, apparently, would put on ice any man who didn't treat her nice. As one might gather, the film relied upon and reinforced a number of racist stereotypes concerning black women, their sexuality, their sassiness, and their all-too-ready involvement in criminal violence, prostitution, and drug abuse.

Having said that, there are feminist film critics who feel a good deal of respect and affection for Foxy Brown, not least of all because she was a strong and independent African-American woman, fearless in confronting male power, seeking justice, and attempting to protect (or avenge) loved ones to the best of her ability in extremely trying circumstances.

Whilst we might discuss this further in a future post, I'd like to return here if I may to LaChapelle's portrait of Naomi and his pornographic imagining of the female body in terms of fruit ...

There is, of course, a long established tradition in the arts in which this metaphorical comparison is made and sex is equated with food. Indeed, it quickly became a cliché for (predominantly male) poets and painters to compare breasts to melons, nipples to dark cherries, and moist cunts to ripe figs that show crimson through the purple slit, as D. H. Lawrence would have it.

So, LaChapelle is certainly not doing anything groundbreaking. Far more innovative and provocative are the fruit-fingering videos of the artist and vulva activist Stephanie Sarley, which last year caused a viral storm on social media. The less-than-innocent but technically blameless videos depicted a range of fruits, including oranges, limes, lemons, strawberries, apricots, and kiwis, being gently caressed, rubbed, and poked by Sarley until their skins split and juices oozed out.

Ever prepared to act the censor-morons, Instagram ludicrously removed the videos and disabled Sarley's account on several occasions, informing her that they infringed the company's rules governing 'sexually suggestive content'.

You have to smile, for it seems that when a celebrated male photographer places a naked black woman in a fruit bowl and invites the male consumers of a pornographic magazine to objectify her body and ejaculate over her image, before then discarding it - as Kant would say - like a sucked dry lemon, that's socially acceptable. Indeed, the photo is reproduced many times in art and fashion magazines and deemed either a work of stylish eroticism, or a harmless and ironic piece of kitsch.

But when a woman simply posts a short film of her finger penetrating a pomegranate and, in so doing, subtly challenge tired clichés and sexual stereotypes with humour and absurdity, then she can be assured to receive a shitload of vile abuse online and have her work removed by the self-appointed moral guardians of Instagram in the name of defending public decency.        

It's no wonder women - of all skin tones - sometimes get angry ...


Note: those interested in watching Stephanie Sarley's fruit art videos can find them on her official website: stephaniesarley.com  

To read part one of this post - Naomi as Playmate, Bunny Girl and Jezebel - click here.

To read part two of this post - Naomi in the Cat House - click here. 

Three Portraits of Naomi 2: Naomi in the Cat House

Introductory Note

The three portraits of London-born supermodel Naomi Campbell that I wish to discuss were all taken by David LaChapelle for an issue of Playboy magazine (1 Dec 1999). As one might expect, all are visually stunning and typical in terms of composition and content of LaChapelle's aesthetico-erotic obsessions at this period. Unfortunately, these obsessions - such as his very obvious black girl fetish - rest upon rather questionable sexual and racial politics  ...     

Naomi Campbell: Cat House (1999)

By David LaChapelle 

In this second portrait we find Naomi in the cat house ...

I don't know if LaChapelle supplied the title to the picture, but it wouldn't surprise me, for a 2006 book published by Taschen featuring his work was called Artists and Prostitutes, so his ideal of womanhood is clearly rooted in the porno-moral imagination and perpetuates a philosophy not so much of the bedroom, as of the brothel.

It's not, however, the stereotype of woman-as-whore that I wish to discuss here, as fascinating and as important as this is. Rather, I wish to comment on the idea of woman-as-animal; in particular, the white male obsession with portraying the sexuality of black women in bestial terms - as here, where Naomi is depicted naked and on all fours, like a wild jungle creature in need of taming (try to kiss her and she'll claw you to death).

Whether we are supposed to imagine Naomi being mounted by a leopard and interpret this photo as a zoosexual fantasy, or understand that she is herself some kind of cat-woman, marked with the curse of those who slink and mate and kill by night and whose femininity is distinctly feline in nature, I'm not sure. Either way, it's understandably troubling to women of colour who have to deal with the consequences of such dehumanising mythology - and I sympathise with those who object to being thought of in animalistic terms that have sexist and racist overtones.

Having said that, I have to admit to still finding LaChapelle's photograph of Naomi extremely seductive. In part, this is due to the glossy technical brilliance of the picture and Campbell's astonishing beauty; she wasn't one of the original five women branded a supermodel for no reason. But it's also due to the fact that German actress and model Nastassja Kinski was very much the object of my teenage desire; particularly in her role as the ailuranthrope Irena Gallier, in the queer erotic horror Cat People (dir. Paul Schrader, 1982).

For better or for worse, this film - and the equally disturbing 1942 movie of the same title upon which it was loosely based - forever fixed the fetishistic (and occult) idea in my mind that there are rare and exotic women in this world who turn into black panthers when sexually aroused; their melanism being a crucial component of their allure. 

And so, whilst hopefully sensitive to the politics at play within representations of women - particularly women of African origin - that portray them in a primitive, fetishistic, hypersexual and inhuman manner (as wild animals in a state of perpetual heat and undress), I suspect I'm always going to be ravished by them.


To read part one of this post - Naomi as Playmate, Bunny Girl and Jezebel - click here. 

To read part three of this post - Naomi's Fruit Passion - click here. 

Three Portraits of Naomi 1: Naomi as Playmate, Bunny Girl and Jezebel

Introductory Note

The three portraits of London-born supermodel Naomi Campbell that I wish to discuss were all taken by David LaChapelle for an issue of Playboy magazine (1 Dec 1999). As one might expect, all are visually stunning and typical in terms of composition and content of LaChapelle's aesthetico-erotic obsessions at this period. Unfortunately, these obsessions - such as his very obvious black girl fetish - rest upon rather questionable sexual and racial politics  ...     

Naomi Campbell: Playmate (1999) 
By David LaChapelle 

In the first portrait, we see a bikini-clad Campbell astride a huge Playboy rabbit, the iconic corporate logo chosen by Hugh Hefner on the grounds that the image was frisky and playful and had a humorous sexual connotation. Hefner is referring here, of course, to the fact that people who enjoy engaging in frequent and vigorous acts of coition - particularly young women - are said to fuck like rabbits.

The picture is thus immediately telling us that here is a promiscuous playmate who likes to be on top. In other words, Naomi is a bunny girl. And, as crudely indicated by the fact that the rabbit she straddles is made of chocolate, she's also a black bunny, guaranteeing her sexual willingness as a given.

For if the history of racial mythology has taught us anything, it's that women of colour are real bitches in the bedroom; they can't get enough and they like it rough. This is commonly known as the Jezebel stereotype, one which originally stemmed from European explorers equating the semi-nakedness of the tribal women whom they encountered with a lewd and lascivious nature (so very different to the modest and morally upright girls back home dressed in their corsets and stays).

Amongst other things, such a belief not only established a framework that allowed for the crude objectification of black women, their bodies and their sexuality, but it also conveniently legitimized their sexual assault by white men; the former were always insatiable in their desires and the latter always innocent souls, led astray by these immoral and manipulative Jezebels.

It's disappointing, to say the least, that LaChapelle should reinforce this enduring racist stereotype and artistic convention of representing women of African origin as fuck-bunnies and bad girls. I don't for one moment think he's exploiting Ms Campbell, who's clearly complicit; as happy to pose nude for Playboy as she had been to accept blood diamonds from Charles Taylor two years earlier. But, as my friends in the Black Feminist Network rightly point out, he's not doing other young women of colour any favours with this portrait of Naomi ...


Note: those interested in knowing more about the Jezebel stereotype can click here to read an essay on the topic by Dr David Pilgrim, Professor of Sociology, Ferris State University, Michigan (founder and curator of the Jim Crow Museum of Racist Memorabilia).

To read part two of this post - Naomi in the Cat House - click here. 

To read part three of this post - Naomi's Fruit Passion - click here. 

The Rape of Africa: David LaChapelle's Reimagining of Botticelli's Venus and Mars

Botticelli: Venus and Mars (c. 1483)

Tempera and oil on panel, 69 cm x 173 cm

Botticelli's Venus and Mars is an acknowledged masterpiece of the Italian Renaissance, depicting the Roman goddess Venus and her divine lover, Mars, in a blissful post-coital scene.

The conventional interpretation is that she has left him powerless and exhausted; that her feminine charms have triumphed over masculine brute force and that in order to experience what D. H. Lawrence terms the peace of fucking, it's necessary for men to lay down their arms and make love, not war.

One might suggest, however, that what Botticelli playfully exposes is naked male conceit. Happy to lie back and sleep after doing the deed, Mars is as vainly content with his sexual prowess as with his virtues as a warrior. Venus, meanwhile, is left to look on unsatisfied and disappointed; for maybe when stripped of his weapons and his armour, Mars wasn't all she'd hoped him to be (the limpness of his right hand betraying all we need to know).

However we choose to read it, the painting is undoubtedly one of the jewels in the collection of The National Gallery, London, and I would encourage anyone who hasn't seen it to do so, should they be fortunate enough to have the opportunity. I would also encourage readers to view David LaChapelle's provocative reimagining of the work, entitled The Rape of Africa:

    

David LaChapelle: The Rape of Africa (2009)

Digital image ft. Naomi Campbell as Venus and Caleb Lane as Mars 

LaChapelle's picture, featuring Naomi Campbell in the role of a Black Venus (and rape victim), is a pomo-political allegory, which, like most of his work - both as a commercial fashion photographer and as a serious artist-cum-activist - is visually stunning, but lacking in subtlety for all its knowing sophistication and obsessive attention to detail.

As critics have noted, the work also leaves nothing to the imagination and is weighed down by its own aesthetic excess - crammed full as it is of various objects serving a crude symbolic function and a rich saturation of colours - and by its moral-political idealism. In the end, if you look at it for too long, you start to feel a tiny bit queasy; but it's only when you consider the latter that you seriously want to vomit.    

For this photo is not, alas, the visual equivalent of Conrad's Heart of Darkness. At best, it simply repeats the refrain made famous by Edwin Starr and attempts to foster white guilt over the three evils of racism, imperialism and colonialism. Viewers might also notice the large piece of earth digging machinery working away at a gold mine, reminding us of the environmental cost of consumer capitalism (aka Western greed).    

I understand LaChapelle's ambition to create a more substantial, more socially aware body of work beyond the frivolous worlds of pop, celebrity, and fashion - and I wish him every success. But, really, David, we can do without the political posturing, the crocodile tears and the shameless hypocrisy.

Ultimately, The Rape of Africa is another example of that sentimental compassion which Pascal Bruckner rightly identifies as an insidious form of contempt.    

Two Great Dancers in Two Unforgettable Pop Videos: Maddie Ziegler and Sergei Polunin

Maddie Ziegler performing in "Chandelier". 

Vocals by Sia. Written by Sia and Jesse Shatkin. From the album 1000 Forms of Fear (2014). 

Video dir. by Sia and Daniel Askill. Choreography by Ryan Heffington. 

A journalist writing for People magazine described Maddie Ziegler as a super-human child or graceful alien sent to Earth from Planet Talented to make us lesser beings look really stiff and clumsy in comparison. And, indeed, watching this eleven-year-old spin and scuttle around like the world's prettiest cockroach, or an insane fairy, in one of YouTube's most viewed videos, does make one feel not only inept and inferior, but very, very old.

We might, as Spinoza would say, still not know what a body can do; but we now have a much better idea, thanks to Maddie Ziegler, of what fabulous things some little bodies are capable of. Once seen, her mesmerizing performance is never forgotten - but never quite believed either (thus the compulsion to watch the video over and over). It's magical. It's grotesque. And it's genius.    

Meanwhile, in an atmospheric and erotically-charged video directed by the American photographer and filmmaker David LaChapelle, former Royal Ballet bad boy and principal dancer Sergei Polunin gives a stunning visual interpretation of Hozier’s powerful gay protest anthem, "Take Me to Church".

Sergei Polunin performing in "Take Me to Church". 

Vocals by Hozier. Written by Hozier. From the album Hozier (2014) 

Video dir. by David LaChapelle. Choreography by Jade Hale-Christofi. 

Set in a rather lovely white studio, amongst the trees and flooded with natural light, the twenty-five year-old Ukrainian shows off his muscles, his scars and his numerous tattoos; pirouetting, leaping and rolling around the stripped wooden floor, dressed in a pair of nude tights cut off above the knee. His passionate - if, sometimes slightly hackneyed performance - not only showcases his own genius and demons, but captures the angry brilliance of Hozier's song.

Lacking the bonkers exuberance of Maddie Ziegler that ultimately makes you want to laugh, Polunin has such immense beauty and eloquent control of his movements that it almost makes you want to cry.

Indeed, I would suggest that anyone who isn't moved by these two performances, these two songs, is probably dead ...