Like art that provocatively appears on the unadorned walls of our cities, sex workers are a defining presence on the streets that circle ‘polite’ society. Although no longer as significant as they once were, they are an enduring part of who we are culturally and historically.
The same can’t be said of street artists. They are growing in number and stature. But this form of expression is still an outlier; it’s unlikely to ever be fully embraced by those who like to observe their art with a glass of chardonnay in hand. These artists treat the everyday as a canvas: walls, hoardings, footpaths, bridges, train carriages; nothing is out of bounds. If it can be reached it can broken, in the same way as a headstrong brumby can be brought to heel.
As foot soldiers who happily wander the streets, we decided to explore the relationship between the sex worker and the artist not, it should be said through the lens of the documentary-maker, but through the eye of a creative photographer.
We commissioned celebrated photographer, Chloe Dann, to create a visual story of the street or, more particularly, the destination where the artist and the working girl once shared space. We also wanted an opportunity for the sex worker to be given a voice. Too often these women are treated more like inanimate objects than thinking, feeling and determined individuals. They are in their own way a camera that records life, albeit fleeting and without enough time for stories to be shared.
Photography: Chloe Dann
Adapting to a new reality
Our brief to Chloe was simple: find the commonality between sex workers and street art. Re-imagine a time when these women plied their trade, often at night, come rain, hail or shine, in pursuit of a living that was never predictable and often dangerous.
Mostly they operated alone, but not always as sole traders. Few women (it was mostly women) could stay aloof from the pimp. He (it was mostly men) offered some level of security but the asking price was high. She was given a very short leash.
Liberation came in the late 1970s, with the emerging of the so-called ‘enlightened’ age. While NSW was the first state to decriminalise prostitution, the other states and territories followed in relatively short order. There was no way to put the genie back in the bottle although many tried, and some still do. But it also meant that prostitutes were offered a new model, that being safe places to provide their services such as licensed brothels, and the opportunity to work as escorts from home or in a client’s hotel room. The street was no longer the only or the preferred option.
Art on the walls and the hoardings.
Walking along our streets and alleyways will almost certainly expose us to art of one form or another. One of the issues it raises is how to define art, and how to separate it from public nuisance or vandalism.
A penis drawn on a wall may not be everyone’s idea of contemporary art, but was Rembrandt’s infamous work ‘The Monk in the Cornfield’ (c. 1646) great art or pornography? Just to refresh our memory, Rembrandt van Rijn was an impoverished artist when he created a series of etchings whose purpose was to appeal to the tastes of those looking for something a little less modest than church-mandated art. In this work, the monk is having it off with a milkmaid while a reaper in the distance is none-the-wiser.
The scandalous and sacrilegious image would have offended the church along with the social and political elite. There’s no question that it created reluctance on the part of collectors and curators to exhibit the print, concerned as they were about falling foul of the moral overlords. So it was an image observed in the shadows; arguably known to many but seen by few. While the British Museum acquired this etching in 1848, it apparently didn’t exhibit it publicly until 2006.
Above: Rembrandt van Rijn ‘The Monk in the Cornfield’ Netherlands c. 1646.
“This form of expression is still an outlier; it’s unlikely to ever be fully embraced by those who like to observe their art with a glass of chardonnay in hand”
There are certainly technical differences between the 20th century penis on a wall and the 17th century licentious monk, but the offence is, (in some circles at least), equivalent. There are also practical differences: Rembrandt preferred paper and was prepared to be named as the artist. Street artists generally hide behind pseudonyms and their art is almost never permanent. Some are happy for that to be the case for socio-political reasons, others aspire to permanence but accept what the street tells them.
Street art was never good art turned bad. On the contrary, it started as bad art that, in a limited way, became acceptable. Banksy is the most obvious example, along with people like Darryl McCray aka Cornbread, who is generally acknowledged to be the first modern graffiti artist. Cornbread started tagging in Philadelphia during the late 1960s.
The history of contemporary street art can trace its origins back to New York gangs in the 1920s and 30s. They are the true heroes of the genre, just as one can argue that prostitutes who worked the streets were the heroes of their profession. They weren’t bad per se, although society likes to categorise sex workers that way. In truth, sex workers increasingly own their destiny and many of them are public in their encouragement for others to follow their path to financial independence.
"Re-imagine a time when these women plied their trade, often at night, come rain, hail or shine, in pursuit of a living that was never predictable and often dangerous"
Street art has never been fully accepted, and probably never will be. But it came close, certainly in Melbourne. A case in point is the aforementioned UK artist, Banksy. His works, often controversial, have brought in many millions of dollars at major auction houses in the world. He is still, fundamentally, a street artist and social commentator. Although his identity has never been confirmed, we believe the first known reference to him in Australia was 2003. While most councils are at pains to obliterate graffiti when it appears in public, the opposite happened in 2016 when workers damaged artworks by Banksy in Melbourne’s AC/DC Lane while installing a doorway. The stencils are believed to be the biggest single grouping of his works in the city. The local council was “disappointed”. While that was its public position, in private they were furious. Banksy is as much a destination as an artist – just ask retailers in and around AC/DC Lane, Hosier Lane and anywhere else that high profile street art is located.
Nobility in the dispossessed
Most sex workers dress provocatively. It’s their calling card, in the same way as a billboard is for an acquirable commodity or service. Many examples of street art are equally provocative. Not all of these survive council cleaning crews, other street artists looking for prime real estate to express themselves, or delinquents who have nothing better to do than destroy whatever takes their fancy.
What follows are four sex workers who took to the streets of Melbourne’s CBD with Chloe Dann in tow. Each chose artwork that appealed and they explain why. _________________________________________________________________________________
Ginger Belle
Location: McIlwraith Place
Sex Worker
Photographer’s notes: Not all street art pushes boundaries or aims to confront. Sometimes, as in this case, the idea is to stimulate and transport the viewer. That’s what I loved about this piece of art. I took a whole series of images but I am constantly drawn to this one because Ginger was having a break and this bloke wandered past, had a fleeting look, and then quickened his pace!
Ginger’s observations: The first thing I saw was the door. When I looked at the image I thought maybe the door is the honey and the queen bee is resting on the leaf having left the safety of the hive. I realised that art can draw its inspiration from other things, like it has in this case. It forces you to ask, I wonder what’s behind the door? Maybe what the artist has done is create the space inside, only it’s revealed on the wall so we’re given a heads up! This piece really inspires me.
Amber Royale
Location: 35 Johnston Street, Collingwood
Erotic Dancer/Model
Photographer’s notes:
This mural was created in 1984 by American artist, Keith Haring. Unlike most street art in Melbourne, this was encouraged (if not strictly commissioned) by the Australian Centre for Contemporary Art and the Australia Council. Even so, it was still controversial as Haring’s pop art emerged from the New York City graffiti subculture of the 1980s. Not every member of Melbourne’s political and social elite regarded public walls as a suitable canvas. When I was looking for a location for Amber, I felt there was a strong relationship between the free-flowing and uninhibited interpretation of the human form with Amber’s positivity about her own body.
Amber’s observations: It took me well into adulthood before I felt comfortable with my body. Even then I’ve been selective about how I’m seen in public. When Chloe suggested this mural and explained its history and the artist’s personal and professional struggles, I thought it was right for me. We’re both outsiders, so celebrating Haring’s work feels like I’m acknowledging my life. If people don’t like what I do or what I look like, they can work through their issues however they want. Just don’t expect me to join the conversation.
Charlie Forde
Location: Strachan Lane, Melbourne CBD
Sex Worker
Photographers Notes: I loved how lyrical the painting was and really wanted to find her alter-ego. That’s what attracted me to Charlie Forde.Charlie is an independent woman, someone who is clearly comfortable in her own skin.She is so much more than her looks; I discovered someone who knows her place in the world and how to navigate it. I saw parallels with her and this unnamed Spanish dancer.
Charlie’s observations: Freedom means everything to me. It’s not only about being true to myself or allowing me to express feelings that might be too intimate for some or confronting for others. It also means being able to shed my skin, metaphorically and physically. When Chloe showed me the dancer, I saw my philosophy on life realised – to dance and be damned! - and wanted to know more about the artist who created her.
Samantha Stone
Location: Rose Street, Fitzroy
Sex worker
Photographer’s notes: Increasingly, I see women being portrayed positively in street art. That’s not just because there are more women artists, but because of a shift in the role that women play in society. At the same time, it’s important that women are not only reflected as warriors, like you see in the Marvel franchise, but as being empowered in everyday life. That’s why I chose this mural to photograph Sam. I know she’s comfortable with her life choices and doesn’t feel the need to justify or apologise for who she is and what she does. There is a calm resolve in the woman depicted in the image, and that was the pose that Sam took when I photographed her.
Sam’s observations: The street has traditionally been an unsafe place for women, especially women who make their living here. I agreed to this shoot because I wanted to celebrate those women. Sex work isn’t for everyone. And not every sex worker sees it as their life’s work. The bottom line is that women who do this work come from every walk of life. We are allowed to exist not only because the law entitles us, but because we fulfil a need. The irony is that among the people who are the most vocal critics of sex work are those who use our services. We know who we are, but I don’t think our critics have that same level of insight.
