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A Woman’s Eye, Her Art: Reframing the narrative through art and life
When a woman makes art, what does she see? When she picks up her brush and looks in the mirror? When she takes off her clothes and paints herself naked? Or when she raises her camera and turns it towards another woman, a model naked there in front of her? And how is she seen when she turns to face the men, the artists, her colleagues, her friends, her lovers?
A Woman's Eye, Her Art looks back to the lives and art of European modernist women who recast the ways in which women's bodies could be seen - from the self-portraits of Paula Modersohn-Becker, to the Surrealist Claude Cahun who exposed the masquerades of femininity, to the radical nudes of photo-artists Lee Miller and Dora Maar. Alongside them in Paris during the first decades of the twentieth century were many artist-women, their friends and colleagues, including Clara Westhoff-Rilke and Gabriele M�nter, Leonora Carrington and Meret Oppenheim. In this book, Drusilla Modjeska examines why these women still matter and, in the vein of her seminal and bestselling work Stravinsky's Lunch, connects their past to our present.
This beautiful book, richly illustrated and elegantly written is about the spirit it took for these artist-women to step out on that path, and the courage it took to stay there. It is the story of what they saw, and how they were seen as they crashed against the hypocrisies that are embedded deep in the structures of society. And it is about hard-fought freedoms as in their different ways they changed the landscape of the art world and reframed the narrative.
A Woman's Eye, Her Art looks back to the lives and art of European modernist women who recast the ways in which women's bodies could be seen - from the self-portraits of Paula Modersohn-Becker, to the Surrealist Claude Cahun who exposed the masquerades of femininity, to the radical nudes of photo-artists Lee Miller and Dora Maar. Alongside them in Paris during the first decades of the twentieth century were many artist-women, their friends and colleagues, including Clara Westhoff-Rilke and Gabriele M�nter, Leonora Carrington and Meret Oppenheim. In this book, Drusilla Modjeska examines why these women still matter and, in the vein of her seminal and bestselling work Stravinsky's Lunch, connects their past to our present.
This beautiful book, richly illustrated and elegantly written is about the spirit it took for these artist-women to step out on that path, and the courage it took to stay there. It is the story of what they saw, and how they were seen as they crashed against the hypocrisies that are embedded deep in the structures of society. And it is about hard-fought freedoms as in their different ways they changed the landscape of the art world and reframed the narrative.
- GenresArtNonfiction
Audible Audio
Published September 30, 2025
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About the author
Drusilla Modjeska
26 books49 followersDrusilla Modjeska was born in England and lived in Papua New Guinea before arriving in Australia in 1971. She studied at the Australian National University and the University of New South Wales completing a PhD which was published as Exiles at Home: Australian Women Writers 1925-1945 (1981).
Modjeska's writing often explores the boundaries between fiction and non-fiction. The best known of her work are Poppy (1990), a fictionalised biography of her mother, and Stravinsky's Lunch (2001), a feminist reappraisal of the lives and work of Australian painters Stella Bowen and Grace Cossington Smith. She has also edited several volumes of stories, poems and essays, including the work of Lesbia Harford and a 'Focus on Papua New Guinea' issue for the literary magazine Meanjin.
In 2006 she was a Senior Research Fellow at the University of Sydney, "investigating the interplay of race, gender and the arts in post-colonial Papua New Guinea".
Modjeska's writing often explores the boundaries between fiction and non-fiction. The best known of her work are Poppy (1990), a fictionalised biography of her mother, and Stravinsky's Lunch (2001), a feminist reappraisal of the lives and work of Australian painters Stella Bowen and Grace Cossington Smith. She has also edited several volumes of stories, poems and essays, including the work of Lesbia Harford and a 'Focus on Papua New Guinea' issue for the literary magazine Meanjin.
In 2006 she was a Senior Research Fellow at the University of Sydney, "investigating the interplay of race, gender and the arts in post-colonial Papua New Guinea".
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
November 25, 2025
A beautiful volume that reads more like a novel, recounting the lives of Modernist artist-women from diaries, letters and historical accounts, but also weaving in the author's own recollections and reflections. I really enjoyed Modjeska’s hybrid style of essay and memoir as well as bold insertions of poetry and quotes.
I found the lives of Paula Modersohn-Becker and Lee Miller fascinating and it deepened my engagement with their work. Claude Cahun didn’t personally resonate but I appreciated their significance. Dora Maar connected with me the most with their photographs that I felt captured the dualistic self and connection to friends.
The shared theme is the historical tension between creativity, independence and partnership in a gendered context. It foregrounds these artist-women as pioneers and one hopes we now live in a time of greater equality and freedom that better resolves all three.
Modjeska also brought in the work of Chantal Joffe and Julie Rrap as ‘contemporary echos’ in her own life. As I was reading this book, I had two significant encounters with the work of artist-women so I have done the same for me: one of dancing to Daria Kolosova, a Ukrainian techno DJ, and another of acquiring a piece by Melbourne photographer Lilli Waters.
But first my favourites pieces.
*
PAULA MODERSOHN-BECKER
In this self-portrait, Becker holds the gaze of the viewer but does not appear to be looking at them. She is reckoning with her sexless marriage to Otto and the emotional distance from her closet friend Clara Westhoff whose partner Rainer Maria Rilke she can't stand. The eyes seem to say, is this it? But there is a quiet determination that her education in art in Paris will give her a path forward.
She is indeed transformed by painting there every day. This is reflected in her self-portrait in 1905, now filled with colour and self-assurance:
At 30, she paints 'Self-portrait on My Sixth Wedding Day', depicting herself as pregnant when she was not and did not want to return to Otto. She wanted to make new art, enough money and passionate love.
Through an encounter with economist Werner Sombart, she seems to access a sense of this integrated self:
Alas she was financially yoked to Otto and he cajoles her back. She finds no way to hold onto what Modjeska quotes Shelia Heti as the 'thread of freedom' and she returns to have a child. Tragically, she dies shortly after giving birth at age 31. A life unlived.
Interestingly, Modjeska points out that she is one of the artists Rachel Cusk depicts in Parade. An example of the recognition that was a decades away.
Honestly, I think it’s just about resources. So much of the feminist angle of this is just having the money and opportunities to pursue the life she wanted without being boxed into a role.
*
LEE MILLER
Miller begins to embody this economic independence in the 1920s as a commercial and artistic photographer, and later a photojournalist.
This gives her more equal power in her formative romantic and professional relationship with Man Ray from whom she was able to learn a lot and teach a few things herself. I did however find their age difference problematic at 22 to 39 and I’ve been put off by the more established Ray’s grovelling over her physical appearance which I’ve read about in other books.
It’s not wrong of course, but it struck me as a bit of an exchange rather than equality. Still, progress.
It was similar for Dora Maar at 28 and Picasso at 54:
Both also struggled psychologically with their association with older artist-men:
I love Miller’s photo of Maar standing over Picasso for this reason:
Miller’s photojournalism in WWII is astonishing, though I won’t dwell on it as it is too bleak. She was heroic and paid dearly for the traumas she witnessed.
Shortly after the war, she gave up photography, remarried, had a child, focused on friends and cooking, and fought alcoholism from the scars of that time.
*
DORA MAAR
I love this self-portrait for personal reasons. Being on a dating app recently my favourite photos are self-portraits, preferably mirror shots, because they are a repudiation of this fucked cultural engineering that you have to fit some stupid marketable form.
It dissolves what is most valuable about individuals when the story of great art is originality. It has encouraged me to be weirder and not give a fuck, which is not the best idea knowing me, but culturally and personally I just don’t think it matters anymore.
This is my favourite:
To see and be seen as the dualistic self. The role of art, reflection and relationships in constantly forming and reforming whoever that is.
Her sexual adventurousness requiring risks:
And her beautiful friendship with Nusch Éluard:
After the war and break from Picasso, as well as a few heartbreaking deaths, she withdraws and rebuilds. She sells some assets, embraces friends, exhibits work, lives well. Emphatically, she rejects Picasso’s depictions of her:
*
DARIA KOLOSOVA
[Oxford Art Factory, 00:30 Sat 8 Nov]
Closest I get to communion.
Why is there bro culture here?
Ask Rose about being trans and if she perceives anything about me that is noticeably feminine to her.
Jumping, jumping.
This is how I want to feel.
This is the energy I was looking for.
There’s too many men dudes here but I’m right here with Daria so it’s OK. Notice her energy.
I love that my best friend is a gay woman. There’s something about her energy that makes me feel so safe and comfortable and myself. Love Rose. Always have. 7, 8, 9 years? She is 30 soon.
I am super at home in this feeling, why did I leave it for 10 years?!
lol taking notes on the dance floor. Go back to jumping dude.
A woman says she likes my dance moves and starts chatting.
I love my Jac and Jack outfit.
A woman fully starts chatting to me and dancing with me. So it turns out MDMA is what I need to embody myself. Nina, I cracked the code. Why didn’t you say this was it sooner.
The woman holds my hand in full sight of her boyfriend and then kisses him. lol
I would so suck her boyfriend’s cock with her.
I loved my conversation with Adriana and Emily at the gallery today. They challenged my opinion with art history and I impressed them that I was reading this book. I showed Emily the double portrait and she loved it.
I should really track down and reach out to that domme who messaged me on Feeld but whose message I accidentally deleted. Delete account, start a new one, aggressive filtering. She said I was a breath of fresh air and asked what I was reading. Can you believe someone actually messaged me?
Gui you should have come.
I haven’t written about the boundary I set with the two neighbour friends who did come but I’m so proud I did. I said I would be in a vulnerable space and I wanted me-time to dance and not have a social persona. They accepted it warmly and now I’m dancing.
The boyfriend offers me a drink. I like taps on my shoulders.
I dance with her and she spins me around lol what.
‘Can I spin you and your boyfriend?’
‘Yeaaahhh!’
Post-show. Home. Amelie Lens mix. Strong fucking female DJs. So much power and command.
There must be a way to share this part of myself in the real world. I do. I know people perceive what’s under my surface. It’s why they’re drawn to me.
I don’t hide, I am selective, I always sense they feel comfortable with me and like disclosing themselves to me. I wish they were more curious back sometimes but that’s OK, I like my role as talk show host on occasion. I mentioned this to Rose why I love spending time with her because it is so back-and-forth, give-and-receive.
Tonight was a clue. That woman and her boyfriend approached me and said they loved my dancing because I was completely immersed in what I was doing and expressive. But it was in the context of Daria’s music. The act before was bland but Daria was electric. I need the context where I can let that part of myself come out and be seen and embraced.
It’s her art, her pumping music, her energy that brings out myself.
That was the best dance of my life. The body. The clothes. The music. The interactions. The notes.
Sleep.
Wake up 7. Circadian rhythm. Energetic. Afterglow. Chilly. Jacket. Café. Double-shot. Read a few sections on Dora Maar who I think is my favourite artist in this collection.
Workout not possible but I want to drop by. Towards the end of the class I walk in and say hi to Seb and John. I ask if I can just do stretches in the back as I was out dancing to 3. ‘Of course, it’s your space dude.’
Rachel is at the back. I know she will enjoy talking to me and she greets me warmly. I’m open to driving the conversation by volunteering information she will find interesting and asking about her life.
She first initiated our gym friendship over summer when she went up to me and asked if she saw me walking in Paddington that day I first visited the gallery on my stroll. She gets her haircut there and I told her last time she got it done that it looked incredible – she was wearing it down and it looked golden. I felt she really bathed in that compliment.
But it’s normally just a greeting and smallish talk. I don’t usually open it up to deeper conversation.
I tell her about my night including the drug disclosure and she loves it. I see a pang of envy in her eyes as she tells me about her 3 year old. We talk about the loss of self, she envies my freedom of reading and loafing and dancing but knows the meaning is important despite the constant grind.
Talking to Rachel was a practice of embodiment. I opened the conversation to someone who was receptive to it, I gave them information to play with. We talk about the neighbourhood, the shops, home life.
Effectively I stopped by to chat to Rachel and say hello to Shannon (I’m glad she said hi to me first because I really like her but I’m conscious that she seems to be like me and protects her space) and listen to Seb’s great gym playlist.
This is me being open, this is me sharing to create space for others, this is me sharing the glow I’ve cultivated my entire life through the wind and rain.
I think this will be a wonderful summer.
Relisten to Daria’s boiler room set. Dance at home.
Loop 365 / 360.
Next level Charli.
*
I take a few days to recover. Weepy but laughing with friends. A week or two to integrate. I delete what I write but it’s like a deck of cards when I pull one out. I start 4 books. I make 70 notes instead of organising the usual 10.
I wonder about the other ‘artist-woman’ in my life. Her writing. Her photos. Recognising references but understanding so little because I realise I’m not meant to.
Because it’s about expression, not communication. Not conveying and interpreting meaning, but just feeling and processing. Occasionally connecting.
That itself is remarkable, to become part of how someone expresses themselves.
No right way, maybe no wrong way – though I can try. Just me. Just them… you? See.
*
LILLI WATERS
Lilli Waters, Orpheus, 2021
Just the online photo while I get the print framed.
I originally asked about a piece called The Water Dream because I felt the standing figure was powerful. But they argued with me at the gallery that there was power in reclining. And that they could request a custom print to fit the smaller space in my bedroom.
But it is ultimately the gender-swap of Orpheus that convinces me. The legendary musician. It will forever take on associations of that night dancing to Daria.
How free and present I felt. Embodied. Open.
I found the lives of Paula Modersohn-Becker and Lee Miller fascinating and it deepened my engagement with their work. Claude Cahun didn’t personally resonate but I appreciated their significance. Dora Maar connected with me the most with their photographs that I felt captured the dualistic self and connection to friends.
The shared theme is the historical tension between creativity, independence and partnership in a gendered context. It foregrounds these artist-women as pioneers and one hopes we now live in a time of greater equality and freedom that better resolves all three.
Modjeska also brought in the work of Chantal Joffe and Julie Rrap as ‘contemporary echos’ in her own life. As I was reading this book, I had two significant encounters with the work of artist-women so I have done the same for me: one of dancing to Daria Kolosova, a Ukrainian techno DJ, and another of acquiring a piece by Melbourne photographer Lilli Waters.
But first my favourites pieces.
*
PAULA MODERSOHN-BECKER
In this self-portrait, Becker holds the gaze of the viewer but does not appear to be looking at them. She is reckoning with her sexless marriage to Otto and the emotional distance from her closet friend Clara Westhoff whose partner Rainer Maria Rilke she can't stand. The eyes seem to say, is this it? But there is a quiet determination that her education in art in Paris will give her a path forward.
She is indeed transformed by painting there every day. This is reflected in her self-portrait in 1905, now filled with colour and self-assurance:
And there she is, composed and challenging. The same black necklace anchors her face, her skin has the luminosity she had long wanted; her colours are integrated against a background of Veronese green; the blue of irises, a hint of Cézanne. She brings herself forward with nothing to draw us away from the still gaze of those large brown eyes. But what is it that they see, that they ask us to see? A woman? An artist? One, or the other? Both?
At 30, she paints 'Self-portrait on My Sixth Wedding Day', depicting herself as pregnant when she was not and did not want to return to Otto. She wanted to make new art, enough money and passionate love.
Through an encounter with economist Werner Sombart, she seems to access a sense of this integrated self:
If Sombart was a trigger for the nude self-portraits which began that spring, was it because that brief moment of Eros, Paula's 'love' for him – if that's what it was, and brief though it may have been – allowed her artist self to see her erotic self in the eyes of a lover? Subject and object, both.
Alas she was financially yoked to Otto and he cajoles her back. She finds no way to hold onto what Modjeska quotes Shelia Heti as the 'thread of freedom' and she returns to have a child. Tragically, she dies shortly after giving birth at age 31. A life unlived.
Interestingly, Modjeska points out that she is one of the artists Rachel Cusk depicts in Parade. An example of the recognition that was a decades away.
What did it mean to live as a woman and an artist, to paint at that moment with the twentieth century in sight? What did it mean to be the one who sees – and yet is so little seen?
Honestly, I think it’s just about resources. So much of the feminist angle of this is just having the money and opportunities to pursue the life she wanted without being boxed into a role.
*
LEE MILLER
Miller begins to embody this economic independence in the 1920s as a commercial and artistic photographer, and later a photojournalist.
This gives her more equal power in her formative romantic and professional relationship with Man Ray from whom she was able to learn a lot and teach a few things herself. I did however find their age difference problematic at 22 to 39 and I’ve been put off by the more established Ray’s grovelling over her physical appearance which I’ve read about in other books.
It’s not wrong of course, but it struck me as a bit of an exchange rather than equality. Still, progress.
It was similar for Dora Maar at 28 and Picasso at 54:
With studios of their own, Lee Miller and Dora Maar were learning the habit of freedom that, across the channel, Virginia Woolf wrote of in A Room of One's Own, published the year Lee Miller arrived in Paris. 1929. The year Simone de Beauvoir moved into her first, small apartment. The room of her own and an income that was, for Woolf, a necessary first step if a woman was to develop the 'freedom of mind' to write 'exactly as she thought' – the freedom to make art 'exactly as she saw' – and thereby contribute to the culture and future of a rapidly changing world. A habit of freedom essential for the individual life, as well as for the common life, which is the real life'.
Both also struggled psychologically with their association with older artist-men:
Life for both sexes... is arduous, difficult, a perpetual struggle,' [Woolf] writes in A Room of One's Own. Even without factoring in the qualities needed for the making of art, life 'calls for gigantic courage and strength'. And that strength, that courage, is greatly helped by the 'imponderable quality' of confidence in oneself. Which is why possessing – or not possessing – an 'innate superiority' is of such 'enormous significance' to an artist-man. A jewel not so easily available to the artist-woman.
I love Miller’s photo of Maar standing over Picasso for this reason:
Miller’s photojournalism in WWII is astonishing, though I won’t dwell on it as it is too bleak. She was heroic and paid dearly for the traumas she witnessed.
Shortly after the war, she gave up photography, remarried, had a child, focused on friends and cooking, and fought alcoholism from the scars of that time.
*
DORA MAAR
I love this self-portrait for personal reasons. Being on a dating app recently my favourite photos are self-portraits, preferably mirror shots, because they are a repudiation of this fucked cultural engineering that you have to fit some stupid marketable form.
It dissolves what is most valuable about individuals when the story of great art is originality. It has encouraged me to be weirder and not give a fuck, which is not the best idea knowing me, but culturally and personally I just don’t think it matters anymore.
This is my favourite:
To see and be seen as the dualistic self. The role of art, reflection and relationships in constantly forming and reforming whoever that is.
Her sexual adventurousness requiring risks:
And her beautiful friendship with Nusch Éluard:
After the war and break from Picasso, as well as a few heartbreaking deaths, she withdraws and rebuilds. She sells some assets, embraces friends, exhibits work, lives well. Emphatically, she rejects Picasso’s depictions of her:
There was nothing of "the weeping woman" about her.
*
DARIA KOLOSOVA
[Oxford Art Factory, 00:30 Sat 8 Nov]
Closest I get to communion.
Why is there bro culture here?
Ask Rose about being trans and if she perceives anything about me that is noticeably feminine to her.
Jumping, jumping.
This is how I want to feel.
This is the energy I was looking for.
There’s too many men dudes here but I’m right here with Daria so it’s OK. Notice her energy.
I love that my best friend is a gay woman. There’s something about her energy that makes me feel so safe and comfortable and myself. Love Rose. Always have. 7, 8, 9 years? She is 30 soon.
I am super at home in this feeling, why did I leave it for 10 years?!
lol taking notes on the dance floor. Go back to jumping dude.
A woman says she likes my dance moves and starts chatting.
I love my Jac and Jack outfit.
A woman fully starts chatting to me and dancing with me. So it turns out MDMA is what I need to embody myself. Nina, I cracked the code. Why didn’t you say this was it sooner.
The woman holds my hand in full sight of her boyfriend and then kisses him. lol
I would so suck her boyfriend’s cock with her.
I loved my conversation with Adriana and Emily at the gallery today. They challenged my opinion with art history and I impressed them that I was reading this book. I showed Emily the double portrait and she loved it.
I should really track down and reach out to that domme who messaged me on Feeld but whose message I accidentally deleted. Delete account, start a new one, aggressive filtering. She said I was a breath of fresh air and asked what I was reading. Can you believe someone actually messaged me?
Gui you should have come.
I haven’t written about the boundary I set with the two neighbour friends who did come but I’m so proud I did. I said I would be in a vulnerable space and I wanted me-time to dance and not have a social persona. They accepted it warmly and now I’m dancing.
The boyfriend offers me a drink. I like taps on my shoulders.
I dance with her and she spins me around lol what.
‘Can I spin you and your boyfriend?’
‘Yeaaahhh!’
Post-show. Home. Amelie Lens mix. Strong fucking female DJs. So much power and command.
There must be a way to share this part of myself in the real world. I do. I know people perceive what’s under my surface. It’s why they’re drawn to me.
I don’t hide, I am selective, I always sense they feel comfortable with me and like disclosing themselves to me. I wish they were more curious back sometimes but that’s OK, I like my role as talk show host on occasion. I mentioned this to Rose why I love spending time with her because it is so back-and-forth, give-and-receive.
Tonight was a clue. That woman and her boyfriend approached me and said they loved my dancing because I was completely immersed in what I was doing and expressive. But it was in the context of Daria’s music. The act before was bland but Daria was electric. I need the context where I can let that part of myself come out and be seen and embraced.
It’s her art, her pumping music, her energy that brings out myself.
That was the best dance of my life. The body. The clothes. The music. The interactions. The notes.
Sleep.
Wake up 7. Circadian rhythm. Energetic. Afterglow. Chilly. Jacket. Café. Double-shot. Read a few sections on Dora Maar who I think is my favourite artist in this collection.
Workout not possible but I want to drop by. Towards the end of the class I walk in and say hi to Seb and John. I ask if I can just do stretches in the back as I was out dancing to 3. ‘Of course, it’s your space dude.’
Rachel is at the back. I know she will enjoy talking to me and she greets me warmly. I’m open to driving the conversation by volunteering information she will find interesting and asking about her life.
She first initiated our gym friendship over summer when she went up to me and asked if she saw me walking in Paddington that day I first visited the gallery on my stroll. She gets her haircut there and I told her last time she got it done that it looked incredible – she was wearing it down and it looked golden. I felt she really bathed in that compliment.
But it’s normally just a greeting and smallish talk. I don’t usually open it up to deeper conversation.
I tell her about my night including the drug disclosure and she loves it. I see a pang of envy in her eyes as she tells me about her 3 year old. We talk about the loss of self, she envies my freedom of reading and loafing and dancing but knows the meaning is important despite the constant grind.
Talking to Rachel was a practice of embodiment. I opened the conversation to someone who was receptive to it, I gave them information to play with. We talk about the neighbourhood, the shops, home life.
Effectively I stopped by to chat to Rachel and say hello to Shannon (I’m glad she said hi to me first because I really like her but I’m conscious that she seems to be like me and protects her space) and listen to Seb’s great gym playlist.
This is me being open, this is me sharing to create space for others, this is me sharing the glow I’ve cultivated my entire life through the wind and rain.
I think this will be a wonderful summer.
Relisten to Daria’s boiler room set. Dance at home.
Loop 365 / 360.
Next level Charli.
*
I take a few days to recover. Weepy but laughing with friends. A week or two to integrate. I delete what I write but it’s like a deck of cards when I pull one out. I start 4 books. I make 70 notes instead of organising the usual 10.
I wonder about the other ‘artist-woman’ in my life. Her writing. Her photos. Recognising references but understanding so little because I realise I’m not meant to.
Because it’s about expression, not communication. Not conveying and interpreting meaning, but just feeling and processing. Occasionally connecting.
That itself is remarkable, to become part of how someone expresses themselves.
No right way, maybe no wrong way – though I can try. Just me. Just them… you? See.
*
LILLI WATERS
Lilli Waters, Orpheus, 2021
Just the online photo while I get the print framed.
Orpheus was a poet, a prophet and a musician in Greek mythology who, at the end of his life, worshipped no god but the sun.
For these images, I wanted Orpheus to be a woman […], asleep on a dark sandscape. The viewer is invited to embrace their mortality and energy for change simultaneously. To dare to be one’s illumination—like a transient point of light in a night sky.
I originally asked about a piece called The Water Dream because I felt the standing figure was powerful. But they argued with me at the gallery that there was power in reclining. And that they could request a custom print to fit the smaller space in my bedroom.
But it is ultimately the gender-swap of Orpheus that convinces me. The legendary musician. It will forever take on associations of that night dancing to Daria.
How free and present I felt. Embodied. Open.
December 29, 2025
A needed book. A reminder of what can be done and all that is still left to do.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews