pulled my punches,’ Lee said briskly, catching sight of the gallery’s official photographer across the room; with the camera permanently to his eye, he moved through the gallery unseen, taking shots of the glamorous guests. She wished she could be behind his camera instead of in front of this one; she didn’t belong here in the bright lights. She looked back at Rosa.
‘And what is the show about?’
‘Uh, well, it’s called “Back to Front” and, as you can see, we’ve designed an interactive way to present the exhibition. I wanted to bring attention to domestic violence and how it’s happening among us, right here, every single day. Even in an educated, liberal city such as this, daily pain and terror is a reality for tens of thousands of women, and some men too. Statistically speaking, we probably each know someone who has been affected by this abuse, even if we don’t know we know it. Now, partly that’s because abusers tend to be clever about it, tactical: they know where to hit so the bruises are hidden – the torso, arms, thighs . . . All the women I met at the shelter were able to hide their injuries from their families, friends and colleagues for a very long time. But this issue also goes unnoticed because there’s such a stigma around the issue still. Beatings and abuse aren’t the preserve of sex workers or addicts; it happens to teachers and vets and office workers. Our neighbours, our friends . . . These women need to be able to feel they can stand up and say, “it happened to me.” It can be really hard because, in a lot of cases, these women still love and want to protect the person hurting them. Plus they don’t want to be seen as victims—’
Someone reached over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Lee, amazing, darling!’ the woman cried as she drifted into the crowd again. Lee was certain she’d never seen her before in her life.
‘Uh . . .’ She looked back at Rosa again, having lost her thread.
‘So tell us why you decided to style these women in couture gowns?’ Rosa asked. ‘What was the thinking behind that?’
‘Well, I wanted to make a statement about the dichotomy between perception and reality – how easy it is for victims to hide painful truths but also how easy it is for us, the unsuspecting public, to see what we want to see. By dressing these women in beautiful gowns and doing their hair and giving them real jewels, we created images of perfection that I then shot from the back. That represents the viewer’s gaze – it sets up an assumption which is then dismantled by the full-frontal image—’
‘Lee!’ someone else trilled, blowing kisses and waving at her. She waved back blankly.
‘Uh . . . You’ll see we’ve suspended the images from wires. That’s so the viewer can walk around and then be confronted with the brutal reality of what has happened to these women – their cuts, their bruises, their split lips, black eyes, broken clavicles . . . I wanted there to be a shocking contrast between the Front and Back photographs, an extreme made even greater by the juxtaposition of the image that’s originally set up. I want people to confront their own assumptions and prejudices, to show that everything’s back to front. Our culture is obsessed with images of perfection, of shallow beauty and empty fame, but where are the dialogues about women and children being beaten in their own homes? Where are the resources to give these women proper refuge and shelter? Where are the education initiatives to stop men from using their fists in the first place? The repercussions of this problem are felt throughout our society – school truancy, homelessness, drug abuse, prostitution . . . Why are these issues not being treated as the front-line emergencies they are?’
Rosa nodded furiously, holding the recorder right up to her face, but her eyes were tracking someone (clearly famous) over Lee’s right shoulder. ‘. . . And why did you decide to apply an age limit to the exhibition? Aren’t you worried that may put some people off?’
‘Well, that was down to the gallery, not me, to be honest, but anyone who comes to see this show needs to be prepared to be shocked and even upset – the photographs are unflinching. I haven’t edited or retouched the images. We have to make ourselves look at the truth.