The Dinner Party: a controversial icon of 1970s feminist art
Since 1979, a dinner party has been travelling the globe. Around its table sat primordial goddesses, artists, and activists until it found a permanent home in the Elizabeth A. Sackler Center for Feminist Art at the Brooklyn Museum. Considered one of the first epic feminist artworks, Judy Chicago’s The Dinner Party installation functioned on several symbolic levels. While prolific figures throughout history were finally given a seat at the table, the running vagina motif set at each place had the unintended effect of symbolising the way the achievements of these women were often reduced down to their gender.
Chicago’s aim in creating the 48-foot triangular dinner table was to “end the ongoing cycle of omission in which women were written out of the historical record”. Split into three wings, Wing I honoured women from prehistoric times up to the Roman Empire, Wing II the women from the early days of Christianity to the Reformation, and Wing III women from the American Revolution up to the first waves of feminism.
The feminist sentiment is echoed in the table runner that stretched across the table, embroidered to reflect the names of the women featured, alongside symbols of their major accomplishments, which sat next to a napkin, a glass, and a plate. A lot of critics felt initial unease right out of the gate because of its proximity to the domestic – but defenders of Chicago’s work have deemed it a celebration of textile art, which is often seen as a domestic pastime.
Really, the contentious element was the flower-like vulva sculptures that lost a lot of the feminist audience. They say the most difficult thing an artist can learn is when to stop, and if Chicago had just left it at the inclusion of sewing and china painting, the message that male art was more culturally esteemed would’ve been far more effective.
There’s no denying the piece had a seismic impact when it was first shown, but as feminism became self-aware and intersectional, many of its significant artworks weren’t looked upon favourably. Sojourner Truth was the only black woman included, and no sculpture was designed for her. It was a denial of intrinsic womanhood, which also highlighted the abundance of white women Chicago had included.
Cornelia Parker was one of many artists to publicly denounce it, telling The Observer it was the “biggest piece of victim art” to come out of the feminist art movement. “Too many vaginas for my liking,” she said. “I find it all about Judy Chicago’s ego rather than the poor women she’s supposed to be elevating – we’re all reduced to vaginas, which is a bit depressing. And it takes up so much space! I quite like the idea of trying to fit it in some tiny bin – not a very feminist gesture, but I don’t think the piece is either.”
