Beauty Queen Myla Dalbesio: My Art’s Erotic, But I’m Not ‘Easy’ [1]
Due to the sexual nature of my work, though, it is often misinterpreted. I’m not interested in sleeping my way to the top. And yet male gallery owners come for studio visits and try to make out with me. Editors of major art magazines ask me casually over lunch if I “come easily.” During seemingly benign catalog lingerie shoots, I’ve had male photographers order me to “get down on my knees, like a good girl” then elbow their assistants and laugh. Once, at the end of an awkward fashion shoot, after I denied the photographer’s advances, he snapped at me, “I’ve seen your performance work, I could have had you masturbating on camera if I wanted to.”
Here’s something you should know about me: I’m an artist as well as a model. (A real Renaissance woman. I even tap dance! Quick, somebody get me a reality show!) These two thingsāmodeling and making artāare for me, inextricably intertwined. My art is concerned primarily with feminine sexuality and power. Sometimes I make topless videos of myself. Sometimes I make collages out of old nude magazines. I make drawings of women pleasuring themselves and incorporate sexts that my boyfriend sends me and dialogue from porn movies and rap songs into my collages. Yes, it is sexual. But for me, that expression of sexuality is about a woman being in control: My subject is empowered. She is comfortable in her body and celebrates it.
Due to the sexual nature of my work, though, it is often misinterpreted. Or rather, I am misinterpreted. I don’t sleep around (but no shade on you girls that do! Get yours! Just be safe about it!). And while I am certainly sexually liberated and adventuresome (I can recommend which handcuffs to buy that won’t chafe your wrists and which sex clubs in Berlin are the most fun), I’m not interested in sleeping my way to the top. And yet male gallery owners come for studio visits and try to make out with me. Editors of major art magazines ask me casually over lunch if I “come easily.” During seemingly benign catalog lingerie shoots, I’ve had male photographers order me to “get down on my knees, like a good girl” then elbow their assistants and laugh. Once, at the end of an awkward fashion shoot, after I denied the photographer’s advances, he snapped at me, “I’ve seen your performance work, I could have had you masturbating on camera if I wanted to.” And why not, right? My art is about sex. I’m a model, and I sometimes model nude. I must be up for anything.
No. Justā¦ no. That’s not how it works you guys! For a while I thought it was. I begrudgingly smiled, laughed off crude questions and jokes, tiptoed around these work world advances and settled on ending uncomfortable relationships by just not picking up the phone or answering emails, and feeling terribly guilty about it. As if I was the one who was doing something wrong. My mother died when I was young, and even though I do have many strong female role models in my family, no one ever addressed sex or my sexuality with me. For most of my life I didn’t understand the power that I had, that I always got to choose with whom and where and when and how things went down, that I didn’t have to feel bad about denying someone or rejecting an unwanted advance. And where had the strained flirting and uncomfortable hugs gotten me anyways? Nowhere.
Lately I have been doing more studio visits, and thinking a lot about if it is the same for other women who make work that engages in a sexual theme. I decided to talk to two good friends about it, fashion/art photographers Kava Gorna and Stacey Mark.
I’ve worked with both Kava and Stacey on editorial projects in the past, and they have both shot me nude. They are smart and beautiful and while their photographs can be perceived as sexual (they often shoot nudes or lingerie), it’s not overt. Their work focuses on the female as a whole person, not an object. They prefer to get to know their subjects before shooting them, and make extra efforts to ensure that their girls are always comfortable with what is going on. As Kava told me, “I like my women to feel like women, and look like women. I really try to focus on the girl’s personality. The sexiness comes from inside of the woman’s mind. Often what comes out in popular photography is images of women that look sexy in these tropes of what sexy is supposed to look like. It’s the safe way approach, because it’s sterilized. What I’ve always been interested in is the natural essence of a person.”
Both Kava and Stacey strive to make their subjects feel comfortable and considered so that their confidence and “essence” comes through. “[The women I photograph] are not like, covered in dirt or naked and cowering in the middle of an empty field,” Kava continued. “I think there’s a lot of photography out there that uses nudity and sexiness in a way where the woman really looks like she is being put down in the image. Even though the image can be beautiful, there’s a clear differentiation of power between the subject and the [viewer]. But I’m really interested in creating an equal plane of, you know, ‘we’re both in this game, we’re both feeling this moment.'” And Stacey is the same. “For me,” she says, “the most important thing is the relationship that I have with the women I shoot, and the situation that we’re both in. It’s about creating a comfort zone and a connection.” I can certainly vouch for that. When Stacey shot me nude on a beach for Oyster, it was a cold March day in New York. It had been my choice to go to the beach, because I love the ocean (even in the winter), and she was out there, no jacket, waist-deep in freezing salty water. “I would never ask a girl to do something I wouldn’t do,” she told me. “If you’re in it, I’m right there with you.”
This attitude comes through in their photos: They are personalābudding with a unique sexiness that comes from the comfortable and respectful relationship built between the subject and the photographer. But how is that sexiness interpreted by the outside world?
“People often think that I’m a lesbian from my photos,” Kava tells me, “or they think that they can approach me and be inappropriate with me. That they can say things that are obnoxious or personal and sexual. Guys just think I’m ‘DTF’, but for me the sexuality in my photos is about empowerment. Unfortunately this means that men often think they can be predatory with me.”
Stacey told me about a recent experience meeting with an editor, during which he paged through her portfolio and, taking in her series of nude photographs, asked if she ever shot self-portraits. She told him she did not. “Why?” he asked, “Are your tits bad?” Shocked, she answered, “No, they’re fine.” He replied, “Oh, is it your ass, then?” She sighed as she told me this. “Maybe you’re supposed to be, you know, winky and into it. I’m not that outgoing in certain circumstances, I’m not flirty. I don’t give off this kind of vibe. I don’t talk about sex with [these guys], [they] don’t know meā¦You and I could have a conversation that is fully disgusting and full of horrible words and sexual experiences, but thisā¦ it was just so unnerving. I walked out of there and felt so defeated for a momentā¦I was so disappointed that someone I thought I respected turned into such a clichĆ©. But then, after a minute, I was like, ‘Fuck that.'”
The point of me telling these stories is this: I want all you gals out there to know what nobody really told me when I was younger (I hear it a lot now, but it can’t be reiterated enough). You don’t have to feel pressured into doing anything you don’t want to, no matter how you present yourself. This is not limited to sex. You don’t have to put up with shitty comments or questions. You don’t have to “play the game.” You don’t have to get on your knees like a good girl. I thought for a long time that I brought it on myself by producing the work that I do, but you know what? That is bullshit. Stacey literally ran away from someone who was trying to kiss her, and her photos are still published by his company, so if the fear of repercussions is keeping you from standing your ground, let it go. And who cares if someone calls you a feminist bitch? That probably means that person is not someone you want to be involved with anyway. You have the power, don’t forget it.
Myla Dalbesio’s new solo show “Into You, Into Me” opens Tuesday March 3rd in the SPRING/BREAK Art Show at Skylight at Moynihan Station in New York City.