Helen Molesworth

  • Feminism

    TAKING THE SIXTH STREET EXIT off the Harbor Freeway in Los Angeles these days puts you square in front of an enormous mural featuring a group of well-dressed lovelies. When I saw it, my heart skipped a beat—was it the cast of The L Word, fittingly grown to Attack of the 50 Foot Woman proportions in their hometown? Nope, it was an ad for the Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra, the members all dressed in black tie—a uniformity that accounted for the freeway-enhanced gender confusion. It was as if all of LA, seen through the lens of The L Word, were engaging in a reconsideration of gender. One woman,

  • View of “Lee Lozano: Win First Don't Last Win Last Don't Care,” 2006, Kunsthalle Basel.

    Lee Lozano

    THOSE WHO KNOW of Lee Lozano know she ditched the art world and stopped talking to women. But the fact is most people don’t know of her, because she ditched the art world and stopped talking to women. Feminism taught us long ago that history is written as much through its exclusions as through its master narratives. This has certainly been the case for art history, whose neglect of, and outright hostility to, women artists is amply documented. It is doubly odd, then, to come across the problem of Lozano, for the version of ’60s and ’70s art that most of us carry in our mind is marked by the