A Rebuttal to Xu Qiaos  

ByJuan Xu


​
Since the opening of the “Bald Girls” exhibition on the afternoon of March 3, more than three weeks have passed. From its conception to its installation, the exhibition was presented in a high-profile manner, and the “Bald Girls” team had long prepared itself to face every kind of criticism and invective—remaining ever ready to engage in battle. Surprisingly, until yesterday the venue had remained calm, with no one erupting in vehement denunciation. The “G (fighting)-Women,” who had been on full alert, gradually let down their guard and even began to feel a touch of boredom. At this crucial moment, Ms. Xu stepped forward and voiced her opposition, which undoubtedly served to energize the “Bald Girls” team to some extent.
First of all, Ms. Xu’s article opens by assuming the posture of one who holds the “truth,” boldly declaring that the “Bald Girls” exhibition is nothing more than the Emperor’s New Clothes—a grand yet empty pseudo-feminist art show. However, rather than getting straight to the point, the article spends a considerable amount of space explaining what “feminism” actually is. For example, it states:
“First, it is necessary to clarify one point: both ‘feminism’ and ‘women’s rights’ are rendered in English as Feminism. Owing to the unique charm of the Chinese language, we always feel that the term ‘women’s rights’ sounds more radical than ‘feminism.’ If there is any difference between the two, I would prefer to understand ‘feminism’ as a manifestation in various contexts within art history…”
It seems the author is concerned that her readers may lack sufficient background in art history; hence she offers this primer.
Next, in its second paragraph the article discusses Simone de Beauvoir’s The Second Sex, the grievances that Western women have endured in traditional culture, and the origins of the feminist movement in Europe and America. Regrettably, however, this introductory discussion does not establish the necessary connection between the feminist movement and feminist art, nor does it clearly define what is meant by “feminist art.” As a result, readers are left uncertain as to whether the author is for or against this art form. Ms. Xu writes:
“Before Simone de Beauvoir’s monumental work and the sudden emergence of her contemporaries (in the 1950s), women in Europe and America had already secured suffrage and, under the specific social conditions (post-World War II and labor demands), had realized a certain sense of self-worth.”
Unfortunately, she does not go on to explore whether the rights of European and American women were won through fierce struggle or merely through happenstance—raising the question of whether such a lack of in-depth thinking is what has left contemporary Chinese women largely silent and unable to seize their discursive power in the twenty-first century.
Subsequently, the article finally gets to the point—but then discloses that the author has not experienced the exhibition firsthand, all her impressions having been gleaned from the Internet. She concludes that her only impression is that “form outweighs content” and argues that this exhibition has once again distorted the controversial concept of “feminism” in front of the public, much like certain performance art festivals continually misrepresent “performance art.” She believes the most eye-catching feature of the exhibition is the transformation of a “lady into a G-woman”—a move that directly subverts the male ideal of a woman with long, flowing hair and an alluring, subtle fragrance. She then asks rhetorically: “If that’s the case, then why do some people still wear skirts and high heels?” In her view, these sartorial symbols already carry obvious connotations—especially within a feminist context, where their meaning is self-evident. Consequently, she doubts, “How does merely shaving one’s head represent feminism?” and asserts that it is nothing more than women, by tacitly accepting themselves as objects for male gaze, once again staging a performance to please men.
One might have expected that Ms. Xu would marshal firsthand evidence from attending the exhibition to prove the “hollow grandiosity” of the “Bald Girls” show; instead, she frankly admits that all her experience comes from online sources—an approach as absurd as saying, “I know the truth, but I simply won’t tell you.” Even more perplexing is that her so-called “only impression” is that the exhibition has, once again, distorted the sensitive term “feminism.” If I am reading her correctly, it appears that she tacitly acknowledges and even supports feminist art, but contends that the head-shaving performance within “Bald Girls” is overly radical—an affront to the traditional aesthetic of dignified femininity (that of a woman with long, flowing hair and an alluring subtle fragrance). Yet the real question remains: why must a woman necessarily have long, flowing hair? Who decreed that image? If a woman chooses to do so entirely of her own volition, why not? Clearly, what Ms. Xu is concerned about is not the self-determination of women as subjects, but rather the objectified image of women in the male imagination. If she truly supports feminist art, then how is one to distinguish between feminist art and mere “women’s art”? Must one rely on the traditional image of a “beautiful, virtuous woman” to issue what is called the “voice of a lady”?
Even as she opposes the “G-Women” for breaking free of traditional constraints, the author contradictorily asks: “If that’s the case, then why do some people still wear skirts and high heels?” This clearly shows that, due to her limited knowledge and narrow perspective, she has failed to grasp the true artistic philosophy behind “Bald Girls.” In fact, in the “Bald Girls Manifesto” the organizers clearly state:
“Oppose patriarchal chauvinism; fight for gender equality and human rights; legitimize feminism; subvert traditional gender definitions; promote the rebellious role symbolized by ‘baldness’ and highlight the fighter spirit of the ‘G-Women’; break the shackles of provincial culture; transcend liberalism; and usher in a trans-gender era.”
Here, “baldness” symbolizes a rejection of prescribed roles, while “G-Women” represent the fighting spirit—the ultimate goal being the inauguration of a new era that transcends gender boundaries. In this sense, “Bald Girls” encompasses both a “pre-feminist” struggle for rights and a “post-feminist” concept derived from queer theory. Therefore, Ms. Xu’s insistence on the traditional notion that “only with long, flowing hair can one wear skirts and high heels” is exactly the binary mode of thinking she is trying to defend—a mode that, in fact, is the very shackle contemporary women must break free from. As exemplified by the clever combination on the exhibition poster of three rock-inspired women in black set against a fuchsia background, this is an extension of the idea of subverting tradition through a harmonious collision of opposites. At a “Bald Girls” forum, I once asked a renowned professor why fuchsia—a color that exudes a sense of “effeminate gaudiness”—was used so extensively on the poster, in the catalog, and throughout the exhibition. His reply was:

• To achieve the aesthetic effect of complementary colors in painting;
• Fuchsia not only symbolizes feminine traits but also embodies both adherence to and subversion of tradition;
• As a commonly employed color in postmodern art, fuchsia represents transcendence and breakthrough.

In short, the act of head-shaving together with the wearing of skirts and high heels is precisely the intrinsic essence of the “Bald Girls” art.
Finally, in a soliloquy marked by confused logic, Ms. Xu questions: “This makes me wonder—how does shaving one’s head represent feminism? It’s entirely because women assume themselves to be nothing more than objects for male observation, once again putting on a show to please men.” If the author does not consider herself an object for the male gaze, then the very act of “balding” is meaningless—hardly worthy of being called a performance. In reality, Ms. Xu represents a considerable segment of modern ladies who fancy themselves to be of refined taste and wisdom. Strictly speaking, it is precisely this head-shaving act that makes these women feel uncomfortable, indirectly proving that the “Bald Girls” exhibition has succeeded in inspiring public reflection on feminist issues.
The author further cites art historian Patricia Mathews’ The Issues of Art History as a theoretical basis, attempting to use this authoritative text to criticize “Bald Girls.” Yet it is puzzling: isn’t the work Blood and Essence Painting—which she denounces—precisely intended to “restore the experiences of women and female artists”? Isn’t The Flowers of Evil about criticizing and deconstructing authority, institutional systems, and ideologies? And aren’t What Is Feminism? and Dust also about rethinking the cultural and psychological spaces traditionally allocated to women? Ms. Xu’s criticisms of these artistic practices are, without doubt, absurd and unfounded. Moreover, one must point out that the author seems to have completely missed the socio-cultural context of the West in which The Issues of Art History was written—the book was published in 1998, during the third wave of reflection following the intense, grassroots feminist movements of the 1960s and 1970s. In China, we have neither a spontaneous feminist movement nor what could be called genuine “feminist art”; we remain in the “pre-feminist” stage of striving for equality, far from the so-called state of “overcorrection.”
More ironically still, the author not only fails to speak out for the underprivileged or to resist the patriarchal system that oppresses both men and women, but he also interprets an incident—a shooting by Xiao Lu twenty years ago—as “a heinous public security incident involving illegal gun possession that threatened public safety.” He resolutely sides with the so-called main narrative, condemning those who turn art museums into places “where one can do as one pleases… where one can make love, or even kill,” and he argues that “excessive performance art” should not appear in art museums at all. From such statements it is not hard to see that his level of thought falls far short of what one would expect from someone with a genuine knowledge of art history and an appreciation of aesthetic sensibility.

​