鈥淔or me, it鈥檚 not so much the baring of my body but the baring of my soul in the photos and drawings,鈥 writes Brooklyn-born London-based artist and psychotherapist Jessica Mitchell about Sour Puss: The Opera. Co-created with her friend and Edinburgh-based Portuguese artist Diogo Duarte, the series, created over four years, is a part-fictional, part-biographical account of a woman coming to terms with her sexuality and sense of self. It was a finalist at Portugal鈥檚 2018 Photography Biennial, and was subsequently published as an art book in 2021. The volume comprises photographs of Mitchell taken by Duarte during their travels to Japan and Death Valley in Eastern California, alongside drawings by Mitchell and an afterword by the artists. There鈥檚 also an essay by curator and researcher Anna McNay, who calls the book 鈥渁 lesson in living life鈥 鈥 picking 鈥渁cceptance鈥 as one of the themes through which to approach it.
Throughout the book, the word 鈥渟ourpuss鈥 鈥 often defined as 鈥渁 sullen or bad-tempered person鈥 鈥 shifts from being a personality trait to a character: an amalgamation of both artists and their life experiences. Two things stand out in the series 鈥 a certain sadness or exhaustion on Mitchell鈥檚 face, and a green stain on her shirt which follows her around, increasing in size. Eventually, 鈥渢he green tarnish 鈥榖lossoms鈥 into a green vest鈥, as McNay observes. Mitchell has been asked several times about why she looks so sad, and about the meaning of the green stain. Her response: 鈥淭he series is about whatever the onlooker thinks it is about.鈥
The book touches upon the act of collaboration between two artists, as well as the male gaze, with Duarte asserting that 鈥淛essica is not a muse. She is neither passive nor an object.鈥 Perhaps, most important of all, is the way in which it questions the idea of what constitutes beauty. Some images involve nudity, intending to generate conversation around the representation of all ages and body types. At a time in which our social media feeds are inundated by pictures of filtered and 鈥減erfected鈥 faces and bodies, it鈥檚 a welcome respite to see 鈥渁 real woman,鈥 though Mitchell doesn鈥檛 consider herself brave for doing so. Incidentally, the last photograph is of Mitchell wearing a green vest, sitting with her eyes closed and a hint of a smile. It鈥檚 as though she has found acceptance, not just in the outside world, but within herself. 鈥淧hotos of me have hung in a museum 鈥 my younger self鈥ould be proud and amazed,鈥 she says.
A discussion of Sour Puss: The Opera cannot be complete without mentioning Mitchell鈥檚 drawings, which appear towards the end of the book. They have a childlike innocence and a reassuring sense of imperfection 鈥 feeding into the idea of acceptance and inclusion. 鈥淚 hated art classes during school,鈥 Mitchell says, 鈥淚 was told by teachers I was terrible at it.鈥 The image captions carry messages such as: 鈥渨hy love someone who can鈥檛 like you? When it鈥檚 hard enough for me to like myself鈥, 鈥淚 can hear you, but I can鈥檛 listen鈥 and 鈥渂ad mom鈥 鈥 seemingly turning the drawings into psychological rumination.
Sour Puss: The Opera is published by GOST Books. Find out more
Words: Shyama Laxman
Image Credits: All images from Sour Puss: The Opera, courtesy Diogo Duarte and Jessica Mitchell.
