Breaking Boundaries: Women Artists and the Power of Disguise

“Why Have There Been No Great Women Artists?” asked Linda Nochlin in her galvanizing 1971 essay. For centuries women have been the muse, the model, and the inspiration for many great pieces of classical art, but hidden in history are a handful of pioneering women artists who refused to conform to type and smashed boundaries of gender identity and expectation to achieve success on their own clearly defined terms.

The American art historian argued that there were in fact great women artists throughout history, but that they were historically invisible and unknown because of systematic obstruction to education and opportunities to exhibit their art. In spite of this, a handful of brave and pioneering artists including Rosa Bonheur, Claude Cahun, and Gluck created their own art history, as dressed in male attire they threw of the shackles of gender identity.

Women dressing as men is nothing new. It’s been central to the plot of numerous Shakespeare plays and Yentl, used as a means to be taken seriously in male dominated environments, and as a brave expression of an emerging identity in conservative times. And a handful of those expressive pioneering women in the art world courageously defied societal expectations to navigate the challenges posed by a male-dominated art world and society.

The act of female artists dressing as men wasn’t merely a fight for acceptance though, as it often held up a mirror to slowly evolving societies becoming aware of shifting gender identity that challenged gender norms and stereotypes. Perhaps most importantly though, their contribution to the arts and their courage in defying societal expectations have left a lasting impact on art history.

Rosa Bonheur (1822-1899)

Widely acknowledged as the most famous female painter of the 19th century, Rosa Bonheur’s realistic portraits of farm animals earned her many plaudits and accolades, but alongside her artistic ability, Bonheur was also a determined pioneer who broke down barriers for female artists and even managed to obtain police permission to dress in male attire at a time when it was difficult for women to gain access to art academies and work as professional artists.

Her masterpiece, The Horse Fair, is now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, but the French animalière’s (a painter of animals) legacy isn’t one dimensional. Bonheur’s dual legacy shouldn’t be underestimated, as gender expression was policed in France at the time under an 1800 decree concerning the cross-dressing of women. Bonheur broke boundaries by deciding to wear trousers, so she could work in the masculine environment of the horse markets, slaughterhouses and attend male-only art classes.

This was a brave statement at the time and Bonheur refused to bow to expectation. She was outspoken, enjoyed male dominated activities of the era like hunting and smoking, and openly flouted convention in a conservative society. Bonheur’s openness about her personal life was groundbreaking at a time when being a lesbian was seen as a morally deranged by most French officials. Her decision to wear trousers though had roots in practicality and not gender equality. She explained, “If you see me dressed as I am, it is not for originality’s sake, as too many women do, but simply to facilitate my work”.

Bonheur’s was the first female artist to be awarded the Legion of Honour in 1865 and her art is held aloft alongside and above her male contemporaries of the era. However, this wasn’t necessarily a club she wanted membership to; “As far as males go,” she said, “I only like the bulls I paint”.

Claude Cahun (1894-1954)

The French surrealist photographer and writer, Claude Cahun was a trans pioneering artist who influenced photographers Cindy Sherman and Nan Goldin, and challenged traditional concepts of gender roles, femininity, and norms, which were perfectly encapsulated in a series of self-portraits that blurred the lines of identity and representations of femininity.

Streaks ahead of contemporaries, Cahun (originally Lucy Renee Mathilde Schwob) was a pioneer of the early 20th century in more ways than one, as they often refused to identify with a gender, which was practically unheard of in the 1910s. Instead thriving on gender ambiguity, Cahun’s choice of name is even ambiguous, as in French it could refer to either a man or a woman. “Masculine? Feminine?” she wrote in her book Aveux non Avenus, published in English as Disavowals. “It depends on the situation. Neuter is the only gender that always suits me.”

Acceptance as an artist would be a long time coming and it would come from a spiritual successor, David Bowie. Cahun died with little clamour on the small island of Jersey (not that one, it’s off the English and French coast) at the age of 60, but as gender issues began to gain popular attention in the 1990s and new millennium, Cahun re-emerged as a figure of the moment, and Bowie celebrated Cahun’s life in a multi-media exhibition of their work in 2007 in the gardens of the General Theological Seminary in New York.

Cahun’s genderqueer legacy perseveres today as a symbol of how people can break free of society’s preconceptions, challenge societal norms and gain more freedom in their artistic and personal endeavours.

Gluck (1895-1978)

Gluck was the carefully constructed identity of Hannah Gluckstein, who was a British painter born out of time. Androgynous in appearance and bold in artistic style, Gluck’s confrontation of gender norms inspired future LGBTQ+ people, and her male slanted dress sense would became an inspiration.

Appropriating masculine dress and demeanour, Gluck exhibited at the prestigious Fine Art Society on London’s New Bond Street on four occasion and will be remembered for their defining Medallion portrait, which depicts the artist and lover Nesta Obermer in androgynous attire. Preferring to be addressed with no title and dressed in tailored suits, Gluck’s actions still resonate today and the decision to adopt a non-gender specific name derived by their surname has proved to be influential, as the non-binary Canadian footballer, Quinn proved when adopting the same naming convention when revealing they were non-binary in 2020.

Elizabeth Jane Gardner Bouguereau (1837-1922)

Born in Exeter, New Hampshire, Gardner Bouguereau spent most of her life in Paris where she used her impressive language skills (she could speak French, Italian or German as well as her native English) and charm to earn commissions in the male dominated Paris art scene of the late 19th century. In doing so she had to overcome sexist barriers and like Rosa Bonheur she applied to the police for a permit that would allow her to wear men’s attire so she could attend life classes at the famous Gobelins Tapestry Factory.

The permit wasn’t granted, but Bouguereau kept her hair short to make her attendance more inconspicuous. It would be disingenuous to suggest that Bouguereau’s success was down to her androgynous appearance as she was one of the most successful women artists of her time and The Paris Salon regularly accepted her work, and even awarded her a medal in 1887.

An astute businesswoman and highly accomplished painter, Gardner Bouguereau repeatedly filled the shoes of male artists when producing a variety of religious and historical paintings – a genre usually reserved for men.

Julie D’Aubigny (1673–1707)

Better known as La Maupin, Julie D’Aubigny was a French opera singer who led an extraordinary life and caused so many scandals that she had to plead for a royal pardon – twice. Raised by a 17th century swordsman who worked for King Louis XIV’s Master of Horse, the Count d’Armagnac, she fought fencing duels, ran from the law, wowed crowds with her operatic voice, and often dressed in men’s clothing while working as a traveling performer with her lover, the master swordsman Séranne, who had killed her previous lover in a duel. What a life!

D’Aubigny packed all of this into her young life while she was still a teenager. Together with Sérannes they made a living by giving fencing exhibitions and singing in taverns and local fairs, before arriving in Marseille and being offered a role at the Opera de Marseille, where she performed regularly from 1690 to 1694 under the stage name La Maupin, after marrying the Sieur de Maupin of Saint-Germain-en-Laye in 1687.

La Maupin took to the stage four nights a week and The Marquis de Dangeau wrote in his journal of a performance by La Maupin in 1701 that hers was “the most beautiful voice in the world”. Not content with the excitement in her life, D’Aubigny then fell in love with a young woman named Cécilia Bortigali and was sent to a convent by her family where she placed a corpse in Cécilia’s bed and lit the room on fire as a means of escape and was then pursued for murder by police, before getting into a bar fight. She later challenged three men to a duel and Count d’Armagnac asked King Louis XIV about a royal pardon, who was amused by the swashbuckling opera singer and pardoned her to pursue a career with the Paris Opera.

Another duel followed when d’Aubigny crashed a royal ball dressed in men’s clothing and another pardon followed. Despite this hectic lifestyle, D’Aubigny appeared in dozens of operas, often playing strong women or goddesses as she smashed society’s norms with glee. After the death of her lover Madame la Marquise de Florensac, D’Aubigny retired from the stage and retreated from public life. She died in 1707 at the age of 37.

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Sources: Tate.org.uk | NationalGallery.org.uk | Encyclopedia of Lesbian Histories and Cultures, Bonnie Zimmerman | NYTimes.com | MoMA.org | TheSmartSet.com | RoyalAcademy.org.uk | NMWA.org | TheCut.com | AllThatsInteresting.com | NGA.gov | Gluck: Art & Identity, Amy de la Haye and Martin Pel