Got a minute? Gather a few of your friends together and then tell them to each draw a picture of a unicorn. Chances are they will all include a horse with a mane and a horn sticking out of its forehead – plus or minus a few stars and rainbows. Next, tell your friends to draw a picture of a witch. Suddenly, we have a whole spectrum of possibilities. Is she old or young? Wrinkly skin with craggily nose and warts? Is she wearing a hat? Is she a peasant in Salem, Massachusetts? Does she ride a broom or stay on the ground with her cat and her cauldron? Does she look like Hermione or Luna? Really, the only constant is that she’s a she. It is quite remarkable that the witch, like the unicorn, is an imaginative construct. And yet, we have no collective idea of what she looks like!
I’m in the course here at U-M called “The History of Witchcraft.” One of our assignments was to visit the U-M Museum of Art and check out their limited-time collection of “Witch” art. The small collection of only 15 pieces is located down the stairs in the basement of the modern Frankel Family Wing. The collection mostly displays printed etchings by Francisco de Goya. These etchings are a part of his larger work, “Los Caprichos,” which mostly serve as a satirical medium for Goya’s criticism of 18th century Spanish society. (This video by the San Jose Museum of Art describes wonderfully Goya’s Caprices in more detail. You can even click on each individual etchings to learn more about the hidden meanings.)
I can’t show pictures here because of copyright issues; all the more reason to go see them yourself! But I can describe to you a few that really caught my attention: either because they were so disturbing or because they simply confounded me. The collection ranges from Goya’s Early Modern prints to 20th-century abstract drawings and photography. One of my absolute favorites was “The Witch with the Comb” by Paul Klee. I loved how it was not obvious that the drawing was of a witch.
To me, the woman immediately struck me as an abstract 1920’s flapper rendition of the Queen of Hearts. Her hair was cut in an asymmetrical bob, she wore a shawl and jewelry, and her cocktail dress even had a fringe trim. She definitely looked like an upper-class woman, or at least, like a middle-class woman attempting to look like an aristocrat. Her face was stern with a straight across eyebrow and a pinched little chin. The strange thing about the woman was that her arms were drawn to look like arrows, pointing downward (“towards HELL!” I joked). Why did Paul Klee choose to disfigure this noble woman? The lack of hands dehumanized her, while drawing your attention down to the bottom of the picture. Now you notice her shoes – prototypical ‘witch’ shoes with a curled tip. Is this woman secretly a witch? Klee reminds us again of the idea that anyone can be a witch. All you have to do is call her one, which he has done in the title. We read in class that many witches could transform themselves into more attractive, humanistic women. I guess even witches can make mistakes sometimes and leave their identities exposed to those who notice the small details.
You could easily spend an hour staring at these 15 pieces, which seem to have more significance when brought together in one glass case. You can contrast and compare, noticing witchy details that are marked in this print and not that. Why did he choose to obscure her leg here? What is he trying to hide? Take a friend and ask each other questions. Start with a simple: what is going on here? I promise you – that will be enough to keep your mind active.
I believe that UMMA will keep this Witch Exhibition up for another week or two. Don’t miss this rare opportunity to see how real artists have attempted to portray witches in their work. Maybe your witch drawing will be more similar than you ever expected.
