The Woodmans

I was fortunate enough to see some of Francesca's work at the SF MOMA earlier this year. Her photos, seeming to both express and erase herself at the same time, were fascinating.

The "Polka Dot" image alone was what called me to the exhibit...

Here is an oddly cropped version from the cover of a posthumous book

go to wiki and Keller2011FrancescaWoodmanBookDustJacketFront.jpg

Anyways, this film is indeed called "The Woodmans" and obviously the intent was to focus on all the artists in the family: Mom, Dad, Brother Charlie and Francesca, who killed herself over 30 years ago.

Yes, ideally her art should (and can) stand separate from her suicide, but there is some eerie harmony between the work and her suicide. Art is more clearly about choices than life, in art there is much more control, whereas in life, control is at best an illusion.

I didn't go into the film expecting it to be a mystery, and I steadfastly tried to avoid any judgment of the parents, even though I felt the filmmaker was pushing us towards one at times. Betty's comments about a therapist and a family Francesca babysat for, and then George's comment about the timing of her death, well they pushed me towards psychoanalysis. Ultimately Georges photo shoot is unfurled, and I'm curious if anyone felt was not at least a little creepy. Meanwhile the friends and other testifiers on behalf of Francesca if anything made her feel more remote than anything. Especially the sweet neighbor whose friendship sadly must have come before two or three major changes in Francesca...

They seemed from two different worlds, united by a kindergarten lifetimes ago. Even the parents, at this point have spent more time without Francesca then they did with her. What I might over analyze as willful detachment, could just as well be a weary detachment at this point.

Ultimately she is gone. And the film just underscores that. I'm not sure what I would do in her parent's stead, feel honored with a hint of agony? Maybe wish it away until I'm gone, and then let her brother handle it (if he wanted to?) I don't have the all-consuming near religious belief in art as they do. Seeing that was the most striking aspect of the film. For better or worse.

I had hope for more footage of Franscesca speaking for herself, instead they offered scribbled diary pages and then even excerpted those. I paused them at times, looking for more in the margins. Whether the film meant to just augment her mystique, or could not find its way in the few scraps left of Francesca, I do not know.

In the end, I think people are better served spending time with her artwork then this film, here's a nice set via UC Berkeley online

www.berk-edu.com/RESEARCH/francescaWoodman

During the film, I felt the images came and went too quickly. Not just for her, but for the other family members as well (Charlie in particular got the shortest shrift, his stuff looked more interesting to me than the parents.) Even at the exhibition, it was so crowded that the experience was diminished for me a bit, when looking alone at these photos now, it works better, in the quiet and stillness.

Evidently her work strikes a resonance with young female artists, however I am excluded from all three categories, and still find her work charged. We all struggle with meaningless in our lives, but for her to have captured meaningful photos during that struggle, that's the film I wanted to watch.

I'm surprised at the low score and negative reviewing of this documentary. Perhaps its a pinch too long but i don't think so. It seems peoples gripe is that there's too much of the family and not enough about Francesca? Um, shes dead. All that we can do is hope her family and friends at the time will communicate, all of whom do.

I hadn't heard of Francesca before but somebody recommended it and i thought it was haunting and a beautifully rendered documentary.It is interesting to see the competitiveness within an artistic household, that artists are not above trying to outdo their own family members. It also goes a ways to see why Francesca herself was so obsessively driven for success and recognition. Touching portrait of youth, mostly.

Though it is a documentary, The Woodmans is itself a piece of art. Like much art, it asks and suggests more questions than it answers. The first question might be: is this a film about art or a film about human psychology? Or maybe it is about how the two are connected?

The Woodman family had four members, all of whom are/were dedicated to art, not just as an avocation, but as a way of life. The daughter, Francesca, committed suicide at a young age. Much of the film centers of her surviving family's perceptions of her life, her art, and what might have contributed to her suicide.

In the end, each viewer can take what they want from this film.

As a discussion of art, it touches on many common themes, especially the value or curse of art as self-expression. Does it have value simply because it allows the artist to express himself? Does affirmation from others make art more valuable? Does it have a therapeutic value? Francesca's mother says she stopped creating for a period after her suicide. When she resumed creating, was it a resumption of life? Or was the creation the impetus to go on living? She says that "art is about memory." Of course it can be much more than that.

Of course we must ask if art is about introspection, self-examination, self-indulgence, all of these? It can direct one's focus inward or outward. The father comments on the "fragile" and "vulnerable" nature of the artist. Is that due to the artistic temperament? Or the product of seeking affirmation from others?

He also observes that there may be a "psychic risk" of being an artist. This seems to be one of the central themes of the movie.

But perhaps Francesca's art (and her behavior) might have been a clue to what many will see as clinical depression. Are some drawn to her art because of her (flawed) vision, like they might be to Van Gogh's?

Whatever messages or questions one takes from this film, it does ask you to consider the nature of grieving and carrying on. And it might make one consider others in their own lives who have been or might have been victims of their own internal demons.

It also makes a statement about the temporal nature of life and the longevity of art.

This is a film about a very talented family of artists, with the focus on Francesca Woodman, a young photographer who committed suicide. Her parents, George and Betty, were passed their interests and work ethic on to their children. The areas they focused on were different, however. Betty did ceramics and painting, and achieved a high level of popularity. Son Charles does electronic art, and father George is presented as a mostly unsuccessful painter, which is misleading, because this Harvard grad was a professor at the University of Colorado in addition to his creative work.

The most intense member of the family was young Francesca, who made stunning black and white photos, mostly of her nude self in strange positions, and contrasted with fabrics and textured surfaces. She suffered from what sounds like bipolar disorder (her diagnosis was not mentioned) and committed suicide at age 22. She never got to see how popular and respected her work became. This tragedy is the heart of the movie, and you can see how it impacted her parents--her father in particular seemed to feel it the most, he is often uncomfortable while being interviewed. There are also interviews with interesting friends of the family that fill out the portrait.

Her parents are absolutely awful people. I was interested in Francesca's life and work and the film focuses mainly on her parents, who are just self-absorbed, truly abhorrent rich people ("artists") with no hearts. Brother is pretty bad, too. They aren't ashamed to express jealousy over the posthumous success of their dead daughter. Her dad even attempts to copy her work and not in a honorable kind of way. The comment the dad made about how he would "hate" his child if they weren't interested in art basically shows you what kind of people they are. "There's a little coffin. I'm afraid some poor child has departed" is one of the last lines of the doc, spoken by George as he sees a casket go by in Asia. What kind of weird comment is that? So flippant. I hate to say this knowing the outcome, but no wonder she suffered so much in life. I would, too, if those people were my caregivers who were supposed to love me and instead viewed me as an object secondary to their sculptures.