Chair, Table, and Hatstand: controversial or iconic?

The female figure and Allen Jones’s work have significantly shaped my modern-day practice and interests. Following the publication of my work Ready-made Body (Fig. 1), the audience drew similarities between the photograph and Allen Jones’s Kate Moss in Bronze Glitter (Fig. 2). At the time, I was not aware of Allen Jones, and the episode encouraged my discovery. I immediately identified with the visual language he employed, particularly the one in the series Chair, Table, and Hatstand from 1969 (Fig. 3, 4 and 5). I perceive the mannequins as inoffensive and exemplary works of art. However, I recognise that the series has generated general condemnation since its debut. Therefore, I will use this essay to analyse the sculptures and explore alternative interpretations. I will divide the text into three parts to focus on early criticism, context, and modern response.

Part one – Early Response and Criticism

Chair, Table, and Hatstand (Fig. 3, 4, and 5) are a series of fibreglass sculptures created by British Pop artist Allen Jones in 1969. The works depict women as mannequins, represented as furniture. The figures do not wear everyday clothes, instead sporting fetish gear such as rubber garments, latex gloves, and stiletto boots. Their anatomy appears distorted around areas such as the breasts and buttocks, seemingly to emphasise them. Despite sharing the same visual language, the mannequins were “not conceived as a group” (Williams). The sculptures debuted at Jones’s solo exhibition at Arthur Tooth & Sons in 1970. Members of the Women’s Liberation Movement denounced the show as “supremely exploitative of women’s already exploited image” (Mulvey 6). Feminists were outraged, claiming the works reduced women to “nothing more than a piece of furniture” on which men could hang their hats or rest their pint glasses (Venning). Despite this controversy, and later acquisition by Tate in 1981, Chair (Fig. 3) was praised for breaking new ground as an anti-canonical representation of the female figure and for resonating with pop art’s focus on mass production, consumer capitalism, and what was then sexual subculture. The display of the sculpture in 1986 during the exhibition 40 Years of Modern Art prompted a visitor to write a letter to the Tate’s Director. They expressed their initial outrage over Chair (Fig. 3), which they regarded as nothing more than “kinky pornography”. The piece’s vulgarity demonstrated tremendous insensitivity toward women (“Allen Jones’ Chair – Lindsey Morgan”).

The display of the three sculptures in 1970 led feminist film theorist Laura Mulvey to assess Allen Jones’s imagery as “fetishistic” because it portrayed women as projections of the male psyche. In her 1972 short essay, she drew upon Freud’s theory of castration anxiety (Mulvey 6). Mulvey outlined Jones’s focus on the image of the woman, which emerged from his source material in Figures and Projects (Mulvey 7). The ubiquitous high-heeled shoes, leather corsets, and stockings displayed the woman as a fetish (Mulvey 9). Mulvey emphasised the crucial characteristic associated with the numerous illustrations in Jones’s source material: the absence of visible female genitals. She asserted that “the nearer the female figure is to genital nakedness, the more flamboyant the phallic distraction” (Mulvey 7). To support this claim, Mulvey drew on the Freudian theory of castration anxiety, illustrated by the example of Medusa. In artistic representations, snakes are often used to symbolise Medusa’s hair. The absence of the penis evokes a feeling of fear. Despite this, the actual function of the reptiles is to lessen such distress (Mulvey 6). Freud believed that the displacement of desire onto various alternative objects or body parts served as a mechanism to obviate an individual’s confrontation with the fear of castration. Thus, a range of well-known fetishist items distracted the male viewer in Jones’s books (Mulvey 10, 11). In the case of the furniture series, the mannequins appeared to embody the male fantasy of the fetish: both desired and feared. Jones displaced the sight of women’s imagined castration onto fetishised objects, including corsets, high-heeled boots, and latex gloves. By doing so, the male psyche and the fear of losing his phallus, his most precious possession, became the central theme of Jones’s works (Mulvey 11).

Following Mulvey’s analysis of examples of source material provided in Figures and Projects, fetish and punishment appear to be focal points to Allen Jones’s references. The themes are employed to “torture” women without a phallus. They describe the sadistic impact of male fetishism, which is still centred on objects with phallic meaning. A recurring theme in Jones’s source material is the bound woman: the female figure is punished for the absence of phallus with the agony of restricting objects. For instance, feet constricted by high-heeled shoes (Fig. 6) and pin-up ladies’ limbs tied up (Fig. 7) (Mulvey 8). Similarly, the belt employed in “Chair” (Fig. 3), securing the back of the legs to the chest, appears to signify constraint. In “Table” (Fig. 4), the restraint seems to be caused by the tight corset. Furthermore, the idea of punishment occurs in Jones’s abandoned plan for Kubrick’s milkbar scene in A Clockwork Orange (Fig. 8). The waitress’ rubber outfit covers her whole body leaving the buttocks naked. The exposed bottom implies using punishment for discipline, while the action of holding a tray suggests submission (Mulvey 9).

Part Two – Context and Influences

It does not appear possible to me, at this moment, to examine Allen Jones’s furniture sculptures without addressing consideration of the context from which these works emerged. Alongside Eduardo Paolozzi and Richard Hamilton, Allen Jones was part ofthat young generation of British Pop artists who used popular culture, such asmagazines, as the basis for developing their works (Lambirth 14). For them, New York in the 1960s was the place to be, a place where fellow artists such as Roy Lichtenstein and Andy Warhol were elevating the flawless banalities of commercial art from the streets to catwalks, penthouse suites and galleries (Allen Jones – Men and Women). As Jones put it, “if you’d been a young artist in 1905, you would have gone to Paris; by the late 1950s and early 1960s, New York was the hub of the avant-garde” (Wroe). In the 1950s, mainstream art was leading towards abstraction (Allen Jones – Men and Women). To express their feelings, artists like Pollock, Rothko and De Kooning employed spontaneous gestural marks and large areas of colour in their paintings (Abstract Expressionism home page). An example could be Rothko’s Orange and Tan from 1954 (Fig. 9). Jones could empathise with gestural abstraction, but it was inconceivable for him to no longer paint the figure (Allen Jones – Men and Women). It was Pop Art to bring the figure back into a central position within painting and sculpture (“Allen Jones’ Chair – Lindsey Morgan”). The time spent in the States was vital for the artist. Living close to the contemporary American culture, he absorbed its influences and applied its commercial imagery to his paintings (Lambirth 14). It was David Hockney, in New York in 1964, to suggest Jones with a direct connection between his painting imagery and an illustration in a fetish magazine comic strip. This remark was a revelation to the artist, who started collecting popular fetish journals such as Exotique, Bizarre and Bound (Fig. 10, 11 and 12) (Lambirth 14, 15). His main interests in such publications concerned the rich visual language, exuberant clothes and accessories portrayed in their imagery. The close relationship with American fetish magazines culture promoted the development of the aesthetic of his paintings, often defined by sexual imagery of female bodies featuring distorted breasts and bottoms (Lambirth 19).

Whereas Jones’s Pop Art contemporaries were primarily influenced by mass consumerism and tawdry advertising, Allen Jones found himself on a different path (Grovier). The insightful encounter with a peculiar slot machine in Reno, Nevada, in the summer of 1964 sparked a remarkable inspiration for Jones’s future works. A real slot machine was embedded in a show girl’s body wearing fishnet stockings and hair wigs (Fig. 13) (Allen Jones – Men and Women). The inventive construction gave the artist a new syntax to describe the human body and its significant presence was seductive and drew his attention. As a three-dimensional representation of the figure, it deviated beyond the tradition of fine art (Grovier). By the 1960s, sculpture as an art form had fallen out of fashion (Wroe). Figurative sculpture relied heavily on careful study of the model posing in the studio; it promoted realistic recreation of anatomy (Lambirth 14). Pop art reintroduced the figure in art, as mentioned previously, and encouraged the use of already-created imagery from popular culture as a reference. The figure was then frequently addressed conceptually, with no regard for earlier generations’ psychological or humanistic concerns (Lambirth 22). This new approach and the slot machine sculpture appear to have influenced Allen Jones’s to take his paintings a step further. For Jones, flat canvases could no longer accurately depict the curves of his ideal women (Venning). He wanted the subjects of his drawings to occupy the same space as the viewer and evoke different reactions (“Allen Jones’ Chair – Lindsey Morgan”). In the case of Chair, Table, and Hatstand (Fig. 3, 4 and 5), their ambiguous appearance gave the impression of aiming to offend individuals. However, from another perspective the works seem to have intended to embody a fight against sexism and the “canons of art at the time” (Venning). In other words, to bring back figurative sculptures in a different material than bronze, portraying very non-traditional poses and without using a real-life model, was radical (“Allen Jones’ Chair – Lindsey Morgan”). For some analysts, the works used furniture as their subject matter, but they were no utilitarian objects. They were set out to be observed and to elicit strong emotion through iconoclasm, the act of challenging established beliefs, values and practices (Lambirth 24).

During the 1960s, figurative sculpture was not a trend that just Jones pursued. For instance, Duane Hanson, Robert Graham and George Segal began exploring the same subject. An example could be Segal’s The Dancers (Fig. 14). Jones’s dissent about their works concerned the reaction evoked in the viewer. He commented, “their work didn’t threaten in any way, it didn’t enter the viewer’s space”. By doing so, he implied that Hanson, Graham and Segal’s sculptures were not ground-breaking; they were still a work of fine art. Instead, Jones aimed to represent the figure ambiguously, lacking signs of a high art environment (Lambirth 32). Initially, he intended to dress Chair, Table, and Hatstand (Fig. 3, 4 and 5) in mundane clothes, but was concerned that such garments would suggest connotations of surrealist found objects (“Allen Jones – Studio Visit | Tateshots”). To overcome this worry, he employed fetish garments that everyone would recognise but not relate to as everyday wear (Lambirth 24). The question arises as to what persuaded Jones to use this specific style of non-mundane clothing. As discussed in previous paragraphs, American fetish magazines greatly impacted the artist, but so did the urban environment in which he lived. He became excited by the forceful strength depicted in the figure outside the realm of fine art (Lambirth 14). For instance, in the “living theatre” he encountered around his studio in London in the late 1960s and early 1970s (“Allen Jones’ Chair – Lindsey Morgan”). Jones recalls walking down the streets during those years and seeing an ever-increasing number of people exploring fashion in remarkable ways; clothes became more revealing, exposing more flesh. Noteworthy is Vivienne Westwood’s boutique Sex. In 1974 the shop was famous for selling fetish and bondage wear. Female staff dressed accordingly as recalls former shop assistant Pamela Rooke, aka Jordan. “I’d wear net tops, rubber skirts, stilettos. (…) There’s nothing sexual about it. It’s empowering: a young woman who is comfortable in her own skin” (Drury). The remark suggests that fetish outfits began to elevate from fetish magazines to high street fashion.

Part three – A Modern View

Just over one hundred years before the debut of Allen Jones’s sculptures Chair, Table, and Hatstand (Fig. 3, 4 and 5), in 1865, French artist Edouard Manet finished painting Olympia (Fig. 15). The artwork depicted a female body lounging nude on a bed, looking brazenly into the eye of the viewer while being brought flowers by a black maid. When first exhibited in the Paris Salon in 1865, Olympia (Fig. 15) caused controversy and was considered “indecent” for its explicit display of commercial sexuality (Ebony 15). The model’s stance in the painting disturbed audiences, as did her daring gaze and further details that offered clues to the figure’s sexual and social identity. For instance, the orchid in her hair and the black ribbon around her neck were seen as emblems of sensuality while the bunch of flowers handed by the maid suggested a gift from a satisfied client. Many identified the young woman as a prostitute (Burnheimer 259, 260). The figure was inspired by the exotic harem girl known as the odalisque, a subject that became a popular theme with the wide availability of Japanese prints and popular erotica (Ebony 15). In the nineteenth century, traditional depictions of the nude female body exposed the figure of the woman for the amusement of an audience assumed to be male. Thus, her naked body was perceived as an erotic object offered to the man’s sight, intended to please the male viewer and arouse his desire for sexual domination (Bernheimer 258). Manet’s blatant disregard of female nudity standards in painting confronted contemporary themes of race and lowbrow taste that were often neglected in fine art. Whether Manet wanted to blur the line between high art and popular culture or challenge the issues of race, class, and sexuality, the impact of Olympia (Fig. 15) persisted in modern art. The painting is now regarded as a Realist masterpiece and exhibited permanently at Musée d’Orsay in Paris (Ebony 15).

Following the review of Edouard Manet’s Olympia (Fig. 15) it is evident thatresemblances emerge between the painting and the case of Allen Jones’s furniture sculptures. For instance, the controversy provoked, the display of the female body as a male fetish and the intention to confront the predominant art standards at the time. The initial contempt shown towards Olympia (Fig. 15) when first exhibited and its permanent display at Musée d’Orsay today, suggest an appreciation for the work. Thus, it demonstrates a shift in society’s perception of it. Equally, the exhibition of Chair (Fig. 3) at the Royal Academy of Arts in 2014 arose contrasting perspectives to those in 1970 and 1986. For instance, some visitors recognised the piece as a criticalobservation of commodified sex, power and gender that does not offend; others claimed its innovation and subjectification of women (“Allen Jones’ Chair – Lindsey Morgan”). One recognises in the examples of Olympia (Fig. 15) and Chair (Fig. 3) a shift in the viewer’s perspective based upon the historical period that they live in. This may suggest the extent to which controversial artworks can quickly become accepted and iconic.

To expand on the changing response to Allen Jones’s furniture sculptures, it is necessary to emphasise what was raised during the discussion organised by the Royal Academy of Arts in response to the exhibition of Chair (Fig. 3) in 2014. The talk, conducted by art historian Stacey Boldrick, guested Lyndsey Morgan, Grace Woodward and Edith Devaney. The debate appraised Jones’s influences and motivations behind the piece and argued past criticising views of Jones’s works by exploring contemporary perspectives. It denoted that what was considered pornographic and sexual in the past is outmoded and even clichéd today; “one’s generation risqué becomes the baseline for the next”. Women activist Grace Woodward recalled the feedback from a visitor of the 2014 exhibition who believed it would be incorrect to label Chair (Fig. 3) as violent and about female suffering due to the BDSM theme. They believed that a sexually submissive woman willingly offers herself to her partner. Woodward identified and agreed with such a vision; to engage in BDSM activities, an individual voluntarily takes part (“Allen Jones’ Chair – Lindsey Morgan”). Similarly, in an interview concerning Table (Fig. 4), she asserted that addition of a specific S&M fetish wear suggested that the woman had deliberately chosen her role (Woodward).

Another essential point Grace Woodward emphasised during the Royal Academy of Arts debate was the use of modern-day images of women in the media. Woodward argues that the feature of models and celebrities in magazines and social media to portray ideal types of women to aspire to offend greater than Allen Jones’s sculptures (“Allen Jones’ Chair – Lindsey Morgan”). (Boldrick, et al). She affirmed that today’s media reflect someone else’s idea of perfection and homogenise female bodies. Instead, Jones’s works represented power, complexities, sex, rage, relationships and money, what Woodward believed to be daily aspects of life. Woodward felt empowered by Jones’s imagery (Boldrick, et al). Perhaps, for the early feminists, the idea of empowerment illustrated by Woodward was ahead of its time. It is crucial to stress that despite the contraceptive pill and the feature of topless models in magazines ingrained in the increasing openness of sexuality in the 1960s, sex and the human body were still relatively taboo and unexplored topics (Lambirth 24). Perhaps, fifty years ago, BDSM was an unfamiliar topic that many struggled to understand. Nowadays, the wide availability of online porn may have numbed society to the suggestive imagery of Allen Jones; they almost appear archaic (Pincus-Witten). However, it seems that the sculptures were not created to provoke as a political or a gender statement but as art. According to this view, Jones was not advocating a worldview in which women’s enslavement was a given, nor was he suggesting that women were objects (Lambirth 29). There is plenty of information to be considered when interpreting and criticizing an artist’s work. As Jones argues, Goya depicted macabre scenes of agony and bloodshed in his paintings, but it did not imply he was a murderer. Therefore, the series could be considered a valid reaction to the mindset of the time and a significant moment in cultural history. However, its primary significance is as a series of objects that broadened the definition of figurative sculpture. The societal mores of the time should not be used as a prison for the artist. Art must transcend that.