provatures fantàstiques: The woman out of the stereotypes mother/saint, wife/servant or seductress/strumpet February-March 2013

Proposta expositiva de febrer-març 2013 La dona fora dels estereotips mare/santa, esposa/serventa o seductora/meuca.	Exhibition suggested in February-March 2013 The woman out of the stereotypes mother/saint, wife/servant or seductress/strumpet .
Aquesta proposta expositiva virtual pretén reflexionar, el més visualment possible, sobre la representació de la quotidianitat de la dona des de la visió del pintor. Aquest compon l'escena amb una mirada silenciosa i casual a dones que estan concentrades en una activitat intel·lectual com la lectura o l'escriptura. Aquestes dones no ens miren sinó que dirigeixen la seva atenció a la veu interior de la paraula escrita, d'aquesta manera poden potser escapar de la seva condició del suposadament femení. No sabem exactament que llegeixen, una bíblia, una novel·la, un periòdic o una carta, però això no és important, sinó la seva actitud activa en la no acció, un moment seu i només seu.	This virtual exhibition proposal pretend to think, the most visually possible, on the representation of everyday life of the woman from the vision of the painter. He composed the scene with a silent and casual look to women that are concentrated an intellectual activity like reading or writing. These women do not look at us they turn their attention to the inner voice of the written word, that way they might escape their status it supposedly female. We do not know exactly what they read, perhaps the bible, a novel, a newspaper or a letter, but that it is not important, but their active attitude in a non action, it is just their time.
[...]Una contradicción directa entre dos observadores atentos que eran contemporáneos. ¿Se las puede educar o no? Napoleón pesaba que no. El doctor Johnson pensaba lo contrario. ¿Tienen alma o no la tienen? Algunos salvajes dicen que no tienen ninguna. Otros, al contrario, mantienen que las mujeres son medio divinas y las adoran por este motivo. Algunos sabios sostienen que su inteligencia es más superficial; otros que su conciencia es más profunda. Goethe las honró; Mussolini las despreciaba. Mirara uno donde mirara, los hombres pensaban sobre las mujeres y sus pensamientos diferían. Era imposible sacar nada en claro de todo aquello, decidí, echando una mirada de envidia al lector vecino, que hacía limpios resúmenes, a menudo encabezados por una A, una B o una C, en tanto que por mi cuaderno se amotinaban locos garabateos de observaciones contradictorias. Se me había escurrido la verdad por entre los dedos. Se había escapado hasta la última gota. Una habitación propia de Virginia Woolf	[…]A direct contradiction by keen observers who were contemporary. Are they capable of education or incapable? Napoleon thought them incapable. Dr Johnson thought the opposite. Have they souls or have they not souls? Some savages say they have none. Others, on the contrary, maintain that women are half divine and worship them on that account. Some sages hold that they are shallower in the brain; others that they are deeper in the consciousness. Goethe honoured them; Mussolini despises them. Wherever one looked men thought about women and thought differently. It was impossible to make head or tail of it all, I decided, glancing with envy at the reader next door who was making the neatest abstracts, headed often with an A or a B or a C, while my own notebook rioted with the wildest scribble of contradictory jottings. It was distressing, it was bewildering, it was humiliating. Truth had run through my fingers. Every drop had escaped. A room of one’s own, by Virginia Woolf