15 january 2025, Yves Joris
A body of flesh, not myth
A sacred presence floats through the air, blending ancient echoes of holy silence with the polyphonic sounds of artistic resistance. The exhibition 'Mary With(out) Child' is currently on display at GNYP Gallery Antwerp. It critically examines the iconography of women, metaphorically removing them from their gilded frames. No imploring glances towards the sky, no hands folded in devotion, but women’s bodies that are reclaimed and rewritten. Until 1 March 2025, 23 artists share their vision of what it means to be a woman — with, without, despite or entirely separate from motherhood.
In the grip of the sacred image
For centuries, Mary lingered at the boundary between worship and oppression. With her immaculate face and serene surrender, she became more than a religious icon: a doctrine, a mould in which female identity was cast — pure, passive, loving. The woman as mother, as womb, as sanctuary.
In 'Mary With(out) Child', this visual legacy is meticulously deconstructed. Artists like Claire Tabouret and KOAK engage with this historical imagery while simultaneously undermining it. Tabouret’s The Blue Queen (2016) balances between the Madonna and sovereign woman, between archetype and individual. The connection to Joan of Arc is undisputable — a figure fighting for faith, self-assured, almost confrontational.
This is where the exhibition’s strength becomes palpable: the image shifts. The artists do not merely examine women as objects, but as subjects. The gaze—once one-sided, fixated on women as passive enjoyment for the male viewer — has returned. This interplay of seeing and being seen, of looking and looking back, forms the core of this aesthetic rebellion.
Mary With(out) Child, GNYP Gallery. Photo: Studio Shivi
The body as battleground
Once subjected to dogma, the body is reclaimed in this exhibition. The physical form takes centre stage, not as an object of worship, but as a powerful symbol of self-determination. The works by Nour El Saleh and Elsa Rouy exemplify this shift. El Saleh’s Spitting Venom (2021) bursts from the canvas with raw, physical energy. Not a fragile figure, but a being that claims itself, a perpetual motion machine in all its complexity and chaos. In Rouy’s Obsidian Upskirt (2024), the link to Gustave Courbet is evident, albeit in censored form in keeping with Instagram’s policies.
In the work of Wojciech Fangor and Polina Barskaya, the female body is no longer a marble relief, but a living, breathing organism. Fangor’s nudes, drawn with soft, almost tender lines, portray women freed from the burden of sanctity. Barskaya’s Family Portrait in Red Scarf (2018) places the vulnerability of the body front and centre — not as an object of desire, but as human: imperfect and real.
Make no mistake, this physicality is far from passive. It is a battle, a reclaiming of the right to be imperfect, sensual, powerful and vulnerable all at once. The body is not censored, but celebrated — even when confrontational.
Mary With(out) Child, GNYP Gallery. Photo: Studio Shivi
Motherhood: a choice, not a mandate
Then there’s motherhood — that ancient, weighty concept intertwined with womanhood for centuries. Mary is the ultimate mother figure, so pure that even her conception had to be immaculate. But what does motherhood truly mean beyond ecclesiastical doctrine?
The exhibition does not shy away from addressing this question from multiple angles. In the works of art by Jenna Gribbon and Angela Dufresne, motherhood is not glorified, but portrayed in all its complexity and ambiguity. Gribbon’s Regarding Me Regarding My Child (2020) depicts a mother seeing herself reflected in her child, encompassing both love and exhaustion. Dufresne’s 70s Mom (2017) offers a nostalgic yet realistic image: a woman who is a mother, but also more — an individual, an artist, a person.
This is motherhood as a choice, not obligation. The notion that a woman is only complete through motherhood is decisively rejected. Artists like Agata Slowak and Zachary Armstrong present scenes of parenthood in which doubt, complexity and even absence are palpable. The image of Mary — perfect and unassailable — dissolves into raw, human experience.
Mary With(out) Child, GNYP Gallery. Photo: Studio Shivi
The silent revolution of the image
'Mary With(out) Child' is not a thunderous revolution, but a subtle undercurrent of resistance. The exhibition carefully unravels age-old visual structures, not by destroying them but by opening them up. Each painting, sculpture and line on paper adds a different perspective: femininity as a multifaceted, fluid concept.
It is an exhibition that demands pause and reflection, not only on how women are depicted, but also on how these images shape our thinking. On how the image of the mother, the saint, the seductress, the muse — forms of patriarchal projections — continue to influence contemporary consciousness.
What makes this exhibition so powerful is its multitude of voices. It is not a monologue, but a chorus. Women are no longer a symbol, but a story. No longer an icon, but an individual. And that, the exhibition seems to be whispering, is the ultimate resistance: the right to be complex, contradictory, imperfect and infinitely diverse. The echo of Mary may still linger in art history, but here at GNYP Gallery Antwerp, her silence is finally broken.
Mary With(out) Child, GNYP Gallery. Photo: Studio Shivi
