September 21, 2014 - 13:16
In her article "Picturing People with Disabilities: Classical Portraiture as Reconstructive Narrative," Rosemarie Garland-Thomson writes: "a portrait [. . .] tells viewers that the subject of the portrait is worthy of commemoration and honour because a portrait has been made of that person" (25). This line made me think immediately of portraits (both paintings and photographs) created of army veterans, generally in higher ranks, who have historically been honored in images that commemorate their great accomplishments. Sometimes this means that the subjects have war wounds--often amputations from battle. Portraying them in this state is, in a way, a way of appreciating the sacrifices the subjects have made for our country, and the immense courage they have displayed by going into battle, losing one or more limbs, and living to pose for a painting or a photograph. Using Google, it was easy to find many examples of soldiers back from war, still in their uniforms, and displaying lost limbs (like the image below).
Garland-Thomson argues that "juxtaposing the unfamiliar and the familiar," and putting disabled bodies in frames such as the very familar one pictured above, gives these bodies power, and forces the observer to see an unfamiliar (and often marginalized) body in a powerful and historically significant context. However, I wonder about the implications of putting a disabled body (that is such not through the process of war) in a frame identical to the one in which war-wounded bodies are placed. The wounded soldier is displayed in this frame in order to make the audience grateful for his loss on their behalf--and I worry that placing the disabled body in this frame could create a sort of "supercrip" story. How can artists frame the disabled body in such a way that the audience does not see their disability as a sacrifice made for the greater good, or as some impediment that they have miraculously overcome?