Catherine Opie Etches Sex and Gender Onto the Canvas of her Skin

Tattoos are pretty badass in general, but as Catherine Opie demonstrates in her current exhibition at the Guggenheim Museum, “Catherine Opie: American Photographer,” designing your own with a scalpel takes rebellion to a whole new level.

Opie’s self-portraiture features a number of photographs in which she has carved words and images relating to sexual and gender identity into the canvas of her own skin. Her Self Portrait/Cutting, done in 1993, depicts a childlike doodle of two stick-figure women holding hands and smiling in front of a house. The nostalgic scene, though, is carved into her still-bleeding flesh. Though gruesome and certainly controversial, the image forces the viewer to reevaluate the traditional concept of the “ideal” family, particularly in light of ambiguous gender and sexual identities.

Another challenging work showcases the word “pervert” etched across the artist’s chest in calligraphy. Hypodermic needles puncture the skin of her arms while a black, leather executioner’s mask obscures her face. While the shock value of such an image is immediately apparent, Opie’s psychological and physical connection to the concept of perversion forces the viewer to confront the inherent difficulties of gender ambiguity within America’s conservative domestic landscape.

Much of Opie’s work aims at this goal, including her series of portraits, which predominantly features transgender and queer individuals, and her Domestic series, which captures images of the home lives of gay couples across the country.

Opie works predominantly in large-scale photographic prints, and typically situates her isolated subjects in front of vibrantly colored backdrops. Her models—usually her friends—use their bodies to formulate identity. Most are adorned with a plethora of body jewelry and tattoos, or various manipulations of facial hair, and very few adhere clearly to traditional visual constructions of gender.

But not all of Opie’s photography is preoccupied with sexuality, and the Guggenheim’s mid-career survey of her work successfully incorporates the diversity of her subject matter. Her lesser-known but equally fascinating photographs of deserted mini-malls in Los Angeles and empty streets in the early morning in the Financial District capture the eeriness of depopulated urban spaces.

Similarly, her Houses series focuses on the exterior of the domestic realm, closed off by elaborate doors, fences, and security systems. The Guggenheim exhibit cleverly situates this series adjacent to her Domestic series, highlighting the contrast between the public and private realities of family life. House #1, (Beverly Hills) depicts curtained windows and an unusually tall, narrow door behind the ornate gate of an elegant suburban home. As part of the Domestic series, Joanne, Betsy, & Olivia, Bayside New York features a lesbian couple with their adopted daughter gathered in the cluttered yet inviting interior space of their kitchen. The proximity of the works automatically encourages comparison between Opie’s explorations of place.

Though the layout of the Guggenheim is not generally conducive to a large-scale, single artist exhibition, the division of Opie’s work into galleries on four separate floors allows the viewer to experience the evolution in her career, while bodies of work that merit close comparison are situated accordingly. The exhibit successfully avoids characterizing Opie by any single aspect of her work, and balances out her popular identity as a lesbian artist with other significant themes that characterize her lesser-known works. “Catherine Opie: American Photographer” successfully draws together Opie’s interests and accomplishments thus far and leaves the viewer excited for the further development of her work.