The Importance Of Having Female Role Models

Photo by Maria Orlova

When I was a freshman in college, my voice teacher asked me who some of my favorite female singers were so that we could work on one of their songs together. My mind drew a complete blank — all of the bands and artists that I could think of were men.

I reflected on this later and realized that in almost every category of art, I had largely only explored art by men. Sure, I loved Silvia Plath and Bjork, but generally my favorite writers, composers, filmmakers, musicians, and painters were all men.

At this same time I was in a class called “Freud, Kafka, and Woolf: 3 Modernist Minds.” My professor was a huge fan of Virginia Woolf and she had us read both Mrs. Dalloway and To The Lighthouse. 

While reading Woolf, I felt as though I had finally discovered the female voice – like I was inside the mind of another female artist. I was enthralled and read my way through all of her books, including The Waves, which I loved so much I began rereading it the moment I finished it. 

Her work inspired me as a singer/songwriter as much, if not more, than any artist had done so far in my life. During this time I developed my voice as a songwriter and wrote several of the songs on the album I eventually released in 2021. 

From there, I launched into an exploration of other female artists. Sibylle Baier, Vashti Bunyan, Anais Nin, and Maya Deren were some of the artists whose work spoke to me most at this time in my life.

I began to realize that rather than asking questions like why aren’t there more guitar solos by women, or why aren’t there more female directors, I wanted to ask questions like what are women doing that is unique to us? What are women drawn to, and how do we uniquely express ourselves — not in comparison to men, but in our own right?

Here are a few things I discovered about having female role models as an artist. 

The female voice is unique.

What excited me most about reading Virginia Woolf was that her point of view felt uniquely feminine. She wrote about a hostess buying flowers for her dinner party, about children gazing into tide pools, and the intimate moments of aging alongside friends. These domestic or sentimental moments also held within them the darker side of life — death, betrayal, neglect — but each moment felt like it was painted by a female mind, a female perspective.

Her modernist stream-of-consciousness style brought this to the forefront, suggesting that perhaps the flow of thoughts or focus might differ between men and women. I began to be interested in how my own work might reflect what I had to say not just as a person, but as a woman.

Not only do women’s physical voices sit in a different natural register than men’s, but our take on things, our instincts, our impulses, and our creative output is naturally just as distinct. Rather than try to imitate the work of men, I wanted to embrace that feminine point of view and let it truly flourish. 

We can learn how to balance art & motherhood.

As those who bring life into the world and who often choose to spend much of our time nurturing and raising children, our career trajectories may also differ from our male counterparts who in general take on less of this obligation.

It’s important for us to see examples of how to balance these goals, how to weave a life that honors family and our natural instincts alongside our creativity and artistic pursuits. By looking at the lives and careers of other female artists, we can gain insight and inspiration as we seek this balance. Before we had our son, I loved seeing other female artists who were moms and how they would interface with their children, their relationship, and their career.

A photographer I knew in Los Angeles, Kanya Iwana, had a piece in which she explored the idea of being a “full time artist, full time mother.” In her video documentation, you could see her toddler discovering various objects in the room while his mother, the artist, was at work creating. Although I’m sure there was more chaos behind the scenes, this image of peaceful cooperation has stuck with me ever since. 

We can explore the experiences of women in other cultures & eras.

When you view, read, or hear the work of another woman from an entirely different culture or era than your own, you get a taste of what it’s like to be female in a different time or place. This is a great way to learn both history and empathy, as well as sift through what might be common to all women across time.

Recently I love reading Dictee by Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, a genre-bending Korean American author, and The Vegetarian by Han Kang, a novelist from South Korea. Although they’re each very distinct stylistically, both books gave me insight on Korean culture in America and South Korea. When we take time to enjoy art by women from moments or cultures other than our own, we gain wisdom as well as inspiration.

We can celebrate sisterhood.

As we explore the work of female artists who came before us or who work alongside us, we can celebrate one another and the things that we create. Whether this takes the form of collaboration, referencing the work of an artist from a previous century, or taking the time to attend one another’s performances and galleries, we’re creating connections that empower all of us.

There are some experiences in life that are unique to women, and sharing in the creative process is a beautiful way to express and navigate those experiences together. As we grow as artists and women, we can each in turn offer support and opportunities for younger women and girls that we may have either received ourselves, or that we may have longed for when we were young. 

We can nurture our own femininity.

Taking time to focus on the art of other women also helps us grow our own understanding of and access to our own femininity. Whether it’s exploring themes relevant and unique to women like childbirth, nursing (or struggling to nurse) infants, experiencing the heartbreak of miscarriage, or being (rather than encountering) a femme fatale, diving deeper into femininity in turn deepens our artistic output.

Femininity is incredibly rich and expansive — it can nourish and soothe at its best or stifle and thwart at its worst. Your own vein of femininity within your art form will be completely unique to you, your personality, temperament, and soul.

Rather than a way to put yourself into a box or to adopt a label, finding the way your femininity works within your art will take what you’re creating to the next level. 

In short…

While I absolutely adore Dostoyevky, Debussy, and Klimt, I wouldn’t be the artist I am today if I hadn’t expanded my list of artistic hero’s to include several heroines. As women, it’s incredibly life-giving to dive into the artistic work of other women. These female role models help us craft our own creative paths while staying in touch with our own unique voice and femininity.

Who are some of your favorite female artists?