Books like Women In Art — picked by fans

While I’m a fan of all of Denos’ work (her art belongs in galleries–and has been), Swatch has always stuck with me (and my family) as there’s something so simple and raw about trying to ‘tame colors,’ which is what Swatch, the artist, tries to do.

Like so much in life, some colors are easy to tame, and others aren’t, which is why I think this resonates so well with everyone who’s read it. And with those, like me, who’ve read it again. And again. And again.

It’s amazing what a little crayon can do, especially when it’s broken.

Inspired by Ohi’s viral broken crayon illustrations, Park invites two aliens into the planet of broken crayons where magic is made. It’s amazing what a little friendship and art can do together (hmm, similar theme to Dear Unicorn, now that I think of it). Bonus: check out Ohi’s social media for loads more creative found object artwork.

For some creatives, nothing can get in their way. No pencil? Fold the paper! No paper? Chisel this, sculpt that, and shape even more.

There’s always something somewhere with which to make art if you keep your imagination open to it. Berger’s lyrical text paired with Curato’s illustrations across many different mediums is *mwah* (chef’s kiss).

I Am an Artist takes the idea of making art everywhere and out of everything to the extreme–with hilarious results.

Altés’ protagonist goes above and beyond (literally) in his efforts to create, but sometimes the creative chaos goes a little too far for his mother’s liking (although the cat doesn’t seem to mind). Of course, he knows exactly what to do to make his mom happy: more art! If you’re anything like me, your creative juices will definitely be overflowing after reading this one.

This story made me want to stand up and cheer.

I loved how it brought to life one of my favorite late nineteenth-century female artists—Suzanne Valadon. I also loved how the book wove her tale with that of a contemporary woman, motivated by Suzanne’s bold art and life.

I rooted for both women as they struggled for personal and professional fulfillment, feeling disheartened by their frustrations and jubilant over their victories, such as Suzanne’s acceptance into the Académie des Beaux-Arts. It thrilled me how she overcame the many societal barriers in her path and won over the Académie with her powerfully expressive art.  

I adored this partly fictionalized, richly realized novel, which fleshes out the life of China’s greatest female painter, Pan Yuliang (1895–1977).

Rescued from a brothel by a wealthy government official, she fled to where the action was—1920s Paris—after graduating from art school in Shanghai. Boldly specializing in paintings of female nudes, including of herself, Pan was invited by high-profile artists to return to Shanghai and display her art, only to become embroiled in a series of widely publicized scandals over her nudes, leading her to quit China for good and resettle in Paris.

Her uncompromising devotion to her independence and her art marginalized her into a life of poverty and posthumous fame. It’s precisely these noble qualities that endeared me to Epstein’s treatment of the artist.

This is the true story of Phyllis Pearsall who (amongst other adventures in a remarkable life that was also filled with personal tragedy) decided to chart and map the geographical districts of London – a project which eventually tuned into the A-Z map. Over a year Pearsall walked 23,000 London streets to achieve this remarkable feat and set up the Geographers’ Map Company. Pearsall is complex and flawed and Hartley wasn’t always able to separate fact from the fiction (Mrs P was a wonderful storyteller but sometimes contradicted herself). Ultimately Hartley concludes ‘If there is a scene, or a word, or a character, you believe to be too fantastical, it is likely they are real.’ Mrs P did have an extraordinary life.

As an undergrad, I was blessed to have two professors who changed the course of my life: Angela Davis and Whitney Chadwick. Both of these professors discussed the intersectionality of gender, race, and class. Women, Art, and Society was published in 1990, and in 2020, the sixth edition was released. Although women artists’ representation in art history pedagogy has improved since 1990, the art world in general still favors men over women, making Chadwick’s book a relevant read. It provides a historical and critical look at women artists from the Middle Ages to the present, covering a range of media and artists from various cultural and geographical backgrounds. It challenges the assumption that great women artists are the exception to the rule and charts the evolution of feminist art history. 

This book should be considered the bible of women’s artistic expression. Built on the idea of physical spaces and how they nurture the creative endeavor a woman does there, Where Women Create introduces you to dozens of extraordinary artists, textile designers, mixed media artists, book producers, entrepreneurs, and product designers. You get lost in their stories and inspired by their ingenious outlook on organization, clutter, and ways to keep the artistic spark alive.

Though this is a romantic suspense, it has that haunted house theme in the backdrop, and I was captivated. I’ve always been fascinated by a home’s history. Who lived there? What were they like? Did they die there? Do they still roam the halls? This took those elements, plus romance, and got me thinking about writing a similar book with that kind of twist. The setting is Boston’s north shore in a 19th-century carriage house, and wow. I wanted the place to be real, to go there and explore myself. There are more books in the series. Carla is a wonderfully warm and engaging author, also. She always responds to her readers.