Only women were allowed to view the exhibition on its first day, after which the exhibition was open to all viewers. During the exhibition's duration, it received approximately 10,000 visitors.
The following texts appeared next to images of same artworks in the original exhibition catalog from 1972.
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| Linen Closet |
As one woman visitor to my room commented, “This is exactly where women have always been—in between the sheets and on the shelf.” It is time now to come out of the closet.
- Sandy Orgel
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| Eggs to Breasts |
We had a consciousness-raising session on kitchens. Some people saw kitchens as fulsome, warm, nurturing. Others saw kitchens as dangerous with hot stoves and sharp knives (“Viciousness in the kitchen—the potatoes hiss”). I had a fleeting image of fried eggs stenciled over everything—walls, ceiling, floor—and some people saw breasts. Breasts were nurturing—kitchens were the extension of mothers’ milk. I felt a little railroaded. I still wanted eggs. And then Robin said, “Why not have a transformation from eggs to breasts,” and we were all delighted. And that’s very important, because although I was the one who finally carried through that aspect of the kitchen (in the main) the idea was really a collective one. It simply would never have existed if women had not tried to work together.
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| Aprons in the Kitchen |
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| Aprons in the Kitchen |
Come in, east…please put on the apron strings and experience the heart of the home with me.
The outside is no longer with you, you are now embraced by my nurturing pink womb, giving life—sustaining milk from my breasts. The umbilical cord has been cut through, and you must hold on to the apron strings real tight or you might (gasp)…have to rely on yourself…tisk, tisk!
I must work harder to sustain life for you, to meet your biological needs, feed your habits with habits…I am a habit to you! I am not a habit! Release me, let me go, you don’t know me, you don’t own me. I am a human being, not just a source of cheap labor for lazy people.
I want to undo these apron strings, to see what the rest of the world is doing, to see if I can help…to see myself once again. I want to travel, to see wonders I only dream of daily…to see wonders I only dream of daily, right here in the heart of the home façade.
-Susan Frazier
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| Menstruation Bathroom |
Menstruation is something women either hide, are very matter-of-fact about, or are ashamed of. Until I was 32 years old, I never had a serious discussion with my female friends about menstruation. The bathroom is an image of women’s hidden secret, covered over with a veil of gauze, very, very white and clean and deodorized—deodorized, except for the blood, the only thing that cannot be covered up. However we feel about our own menstruation is how we feel about seeing its image in front of us.
- Judy Chicago
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| Bridal Staircase |
When I was young I had a belief that the White Knight would come and carry me off to eternal protected bliss. I lived with this fantasy and did not think too far beyond a dreamy white wedding day. My piece deals with the not so dreamy reality that, for most women, lies beyond that wedding day. The bride is portrayed as an offering—encased in gaiety, in lace, in flowers, in dreamy sky blue. As the bride descends the stairs the blue slowly changes to gray and the bride’s failure to look clearly at where she is going leaves her up against the wall.
- Kathy Huberland
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| The Nursery |
The nursery is the place where we spend much of our very early life, the environment in which most of our early learning and experiencing takes place. It is the room which occupies much of the mother’s time both in planning before her child is born and in caring for the child after it is born. I created a room with giant furniture and toys in order to recapture the childhood feeling of being so small in such a big room. I also looked at the room from the viewpoint of a woman considering what the ideal living space might be for a child. I have made the room as androgynous as possible because my early memories are of having no sex and being able to do all the things that boys and girls do.
- Shawnee Wollenman
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| Nightmare Bathroom |
Even though the bathroom can be a refuge and a private place, I have always been afraid there. It is not a rational fear.
It may stem from the fear I had in childhood of being sucked down the drain with the water, the ritual of confronting my nakedness, staring at my face in the mirror, the fear of being intruded upon. I wanted to convey the idea of vulnerability. The woman in the tub is made completely of loose sand. Sand is able to take a shape and retain its vulnerability at the same time. By the end of the show she was eroded by fingerprints.
-Robin Schiff
Performances
"Waiting” was a quieter, more contemplative piece which was concerned with the passivity of women’s lives. Faith Wilding, who wrote and performed this piece, sat in a chair, slowly rocking, while she reviewd her life from beginning to end in terms of her “waiting” for external events to determine the shape of her days. “... Waiting for him to give me pleasure... Waiting for the children to grow up and leave home ... Waiting to have some time to myself... Waiting for life to begin ... Waiting ... Waiting... Waiting...” - Faith Wilding
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| The cock cunt play |
It had been written before we became involved in Womanhouse, but since it dealt with experiences common to so many people, we decided to include it. The play is performed by two women, each wearing a plastic “part” designating their respective sex. The women “play” man and woman, engaged in the age-old battle about domestic and sexual duties and demands. “She wants ”him” to help her with the dishes and provide her with sexual gratification. “he” is outraged by these demands and takes his rage out on her by killing her with his plastic phallus. The pieces is performed in puppet-like rhythm.
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