alike but not the same

In thinking about what to write for my maiden post, I settled on Pedro Almodovar's celebration of women in his films. And then, just this afternoon, I got an e-mail from my mother containing a link to this video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nUDIoN-_Hxs

At first glance, I found it a bit gauche, but within seconds I was mesmerized. For such a simple idea, it made me think so much about portraiture throughout art history.

Much has been said about Mona Lisa's smile, but in seeing the portrayals of these many and varied women, one into the next, the eyes have it for me. I have been thinking lately about how it is possible to depict pathos with a minimum of "expression" in the face, for lack of a better word. We pick up on it in each other's faces every day, but how do you capture it as an artist? How do you communicate sadness without a frown, or show defeat while staring straight out at the viewer?

In almost every case, there is a story to read in these women's faces. Not necessarily a specific story, but one that the viewer can imagine, and often relate to their own lives. And to get really out-there for just a moment, I also see in these portraits a more universal thread, having to do with the "beauty and sadness" present in women's lives [to borrow a phrase from the collective].

With all of the variation in costuming, hairstyle, facial structure, and pose, there is a strong and persistent element shared by these women that makes them all appear similar. In many, I see a strength born of pain. In some, a guarded reluctance, and in others, a flirty invitation. In these faces I see my friends, my mother, and myself -- and they are all beautiful.