Taryn O'Reilly & The Monstrous Feminine
Taryn O’Reilly is a sculptor, an academic and the winner of our Queer Creative Fund 2022 in collaboration with Monki. This project aims to bring Queer creatives’ voices to the front, and we are honoured to have our July cover created by and through Taryn’s feminist and queer lens.
The overarching theme of this cover can be described in two words: Queer Feast. “I call it Glory Guts,” Taryn tells me, “My goal is to recreate a scene that emphasises my social anxieties surrounding the idealisation of home. When I think about what makes a home, I keep gravitating towards the idea of a table being at the centre of it. However, when I began looking at the symbolism of the table from a queer lens, it became a more loaded image.”
She continues, I honestly believe that queer time and space will always be drastically different from our heteronormative counterparts, whether we like it or not. Adverts, films, and television have all predominately portrayed the family table surrounded by a nuclear, white family enjoying a meal or feast. Traditional institutions like marriage, heterosexuality and reproduction are all cogs in the patriarchal machine that keeps us running at the status quo.”
But as queer people, we know that queer time and spaces work in opposition to that. “Queerness throws a proverbial wrench within the gears as these traditional milestones are not always granted to us”, Taryn asserts. “Time, space, how and who fills it becomes the centre of the table and the new nucleus of a home. It is my hope that this project will stay true to all of the elements that make up the camp underground that queer homes have always occupied. It is a love letter to myself, my queer awakening, and anyone else who sits within the margins of society. We are no longer asking for a seat at the table; we are recreating it.”
As the poet Ocean Vuong beautifully said, “Queerness demanded an alternative innovation from me. I had to make alternative routes; it made me curious, it made me ask if this is not enough for me.” This is precisely what Taryn questions in her work.
Taryn has always been interested in the ‘monstrous feminine’, writing in her application for the fund that she “strives to create a body of work that embraces wicked imagery in order to reappropriate the narrative. If my autonomy and empowerment make me a monster, then a monster I shall be.” Taryn explains that her interest in this topic comes from being a massive nerd and long-life sci-fi and horror fan, “It didn’t occur to me until I was working at an art gallery that based their exhibitions around sci-fi themes that it could actually become a part of my research and practice, as well as a hobby.”
Academia is a big part of Taryn’s work, even though her love of art came before her love of theory. “Academia helped me contextualise my thoughts and artistic urges, and now they are almost intrinsically linked. I find myself becoming obsessed with a topic or subject and then start binge researching it until I can’t find anything else about it. Whether conscious or subconscious, what I’ve learned or retained always bleeds into my practice.” While at university, Taryn stumbled upon a book that continues to influence her work. “I started deep diving into Final Girl theory, a phrase coined by Carol J. Clover, and eventually stumbled upon the Monstrous Feminine written by Barbara Creed. It was an all-encompassing book about the abject, the horror, and the fear of femininity manifested through horror films, and I was instantly hooked.”
When people usually approach the theme of the monstrous feminine, their work is scary or gruesome. Taryn’s work is both those things, but surprisingly enough, her work is also filled with a sense of comedy.
Taryn uses dark humour to tackle the subjects of queerness, sexuality and femininity. “I approach my practice the same way I have approached things that happened in my life: With an incorrigible sense of humour. It was the only way I knew how to cope and process certain events. If I don’t laugh, I will literally never stop crying! As I get older and try to carve out space for myself in this world, I just don’t think I would be able to articulate my experiences with queerness, sexuality and femininity any other way.”
Financial support for artists, especially queer artists, is vital. This is why we established the Queer Creative Fund. An essential tip Taryn wants to give artists worried about funding and finance is not to be discouraged by rejection. “You will be rejected a lot more than you will ever get accepted, but that isn’t a reflection of your art, your time or your person. Everyone is worthy of funding and to have their voices heard.” Taryn continues, “Sometimes it’s about finding the spaces in which you know your work can thrive. I rarely apply for funding or residencies with white cube-style galleries because, at the end of the day, I just know that isn’t where my art is meant to be - it doesn’t make it any less valid!”
I have no doubt in my mind that Taryn will go far in her artistic career, but she’s unsure (like most of us) about what the future will entail for her. “I just want to create as much as possible because it’s such a cathartic experience for me, and I never want to lose sight of that. That’s the mindset I’m in right now.” Even though she is hesitant, Taryn has dreams - dreams about community.
“Ideally, I would like to maybe create a co-op style, artistic community space for people who identify as LGBTQIA+. It would have studios, a gallery and even workshop areas so everyone can learn new skills like welding, forging, woodworking or casting. I would like it to be a place where people can leave feeling artistically empowered.” With this safe haven in mind, we hope you all feel as artistically empowered as we do by Taryn’s candour, brilliance and art.
Sculptures: Taryn O’Reilly | Words: Halima Jibril | Photographers: Paulina Fi Garduño + enorê
