Labours of love: Is the art world finally seeing mothers as equals?

‘Parenthood is beautiful, but when it comes to becoming a mother, women are often seized with the terror of losing everything we’ve strived for – our career, our way of life – because of the negative way it is portrayed,’ says ceramic artist Noe Kuremoto. The experience of juggling an artistic career and family prompted her Dogu Ladies sculptures, inspired by prehistoric Japanese figurines with big eyes, large breasts and wide hips that were symbols of fertility and continuing life: ‘They are my personal talismans – my way of reaching out to women.’

Such openness has generally been rare. ‘A number of high-profile artists are starting to be public about having children, but in the past it was often hidden because they felt people wouldn’t see them as serious artists,’ says writer Hettie Judah. For her book, How Not to Exclude Artist Mothers (and other parents), published by Lund Humphries, she interviewed more than 50 artists about the impact of motherhood on their careers.

As she found, the exclusion of mothers is just one aspect of the strict divisions that have shaped career trajectories and how people present themselves at work. Professional life is built on traditional gender roles – the stereotypical image of the ambitious man, unburdened by caring responsibilities and housework, still dominates working culture and how we envisage success.

In the creative industries, this is compounded by the precarious nature of artistic practice. Artists often have no paid leave, job security, parental benefits or stable income, and their careers are often competitive, time-consuming and emotionally taxing. The additional responsibilities women often carry can silo them into practices that are easier to manage with limited space and frequent distractions – needlework, for example, rather than glassblowing.

Creativity is inherently personal, but in the cultural realm, only certain types of vulnerability are allowed. The tortured male artist guided by his insatiable libido captures the imagination; mundane realities involving family, health, relationships, wellbeing and personal responsibilities do not.

‘In the art world we often think we’re incredibly liberal, but in many ways our structures are much more conservative than the business world – we don’t treat people particularly well when they’ve got children or personal issues,’ says Judah. ‘So much of the way we assign value is to do with superficial things like image, attractiveness, youth and buzz, rather than quality of work. The speed at which things happen – the need to constantly create new work for exhibitions – precludes anybody working around caring responsibilities, health, mobility or mental health problems, or anything else that stops you working at top speed, 24/7.’

The bulk of Judah’s interviews were done during Covid-19 lockdowns, when most of our formal structures were upturned. Thanks to Zoom, we saw directly into people’s lives and homes, in all their glorious mess – witnessing loneliness, familial arguments, bereavement, domestic abuse and financial instability. It became impossible to avert your eyes and futile for any of us to hide the chaos.

Now the veil has lifted, will it change how we relate to each other? In 2022, LinkedIn introduced a function for people to attribute gaps in their CVs to being a carer or health problems, to reduce the stigma around unexplained career breaks. Even before that, a growing call to ‘bring your whole self to work’ was arguing for recognition of the diversity and particularity of our needs. Change happens slowly, but as Judah says, at least we’re talking: ‘We need to discuss not just environmental sustainability but the sustainability of our practices, and find ways to better look after the people we work with.’

Hettie Judah's exhibition Acts of Creation: On Art and Motherhood has been no tour across the UK since March 2024