AIC 53rd Annual Meeting

To be strong and powerful, a woman must be monstrous, dangerous, other. That has for centuries been the take-away message behind the Medusa myth. To label a woman a Medusa or Gorgon has been to rationalize or demean her power by making her threatening, inhuman, and therefore deserving of attack and ridicule. This was true in 2016 when Presidential candidate, Hillary Clinton was called Medusa in media, is still true eight years later, and was very much true when Harriet Hosmer carved Medusa in 1854. 

In November 2020, as the newly arrived Mellon Fellow in Objects Conservation at the Detroit Institute of Arts, I hiked up to the American Neoclassical gallery to examine this prized piece earmarked for cleaning and fill adjustment. I found a typical neoclassical ideal bust, which showcased many of the skills that earned Hosmer her contemporary reputation as one of the great sculptors of the period—her anatomical modeling, thoughtful composition, and attention to subtle textural detail. Through the subsequent weeks of treatment, including the removal of a visitor’s unsanctioned lipstick kiss, I became fascinated by the reflection this carved-marble piece presented of the difficult social lines Hosmer walked in her own life as an independent artist, expat, and queer woman defying gender stereotypes even within the medium she chose to sculpt. 

When the Medusa was deinstalled to the conservation lab, she arrived plastered to her pedestal top, covered in discolored wax fills and irregular surface dirt, holding remnants of previous cleanings and coatings in the recesses, and sporting a red-brown lipstick print on her proper left cheek. The subtle textures for which Hosmer is known were disturbed by fine abrasion, areas of unsaturated opacity, and now yellowed oil application. Additional examination under ultraviolet radiation revealed an interesting handling history. I tested various poultice applications and experimented with fill materials to replace the aged wax, ultimately settling on a combination of mechanical action and buffered solutions to even the appearance. I also grew to understand the Medusa with every step of the process. 

In context, this piece is a commentary on the status of women in the period of change leading into the American Civil War and a subtle juxtaposition of mythological and artistic tropes that empowers women through the subversion of both. Hosmer placed the Medusa and her message as the subject of a sculpture style that marketed woman’s bodily suffering and subservience to faith and man as feminine virtues. In so doing, strength and power are shown as regalia a woman may carry with grace and pride, if not freedom. The 1850’s were an early time of change toward a more modern valuation of women’s education and societal contribution; however, American women were still second-class citizens stuck largely in traditional roles without legal autonomy—a contradiction exposed in Hosmer’s Medusa. In this regard, the kiss strikes me as a sign of Hosmer’s success—a crowned Medusa is shown approachable, sympathetic, her innocence returned and blessing conferred all wrapped in a blatant act of violation.