Alice Neel (American, 1900-1984)
The Family, 1982
31.5 x 27 in
Lithograph in colors on Arches paper
Every fall at Davidson is marked with a dull ache of homesickness. Each year, I forget about this feeling, perhaps burying the emotion, trying to prevent it from resurfacing. Yet, each fall, the absence of my family hangs over my head, following me to class, hovering while I chat with friends, wrapped around me as I fall asleep.
I think this is part of the reason I always remember Alice Neel’s The Family. It hung on the first floor of Chambers for a while, and I always stopped to look after class. Now it’s in storage, and I know its location, carefully tucked away sandwiched between two other Neel portraits. The family Neel painted looks nothing like mine, but the striped ankle socks, the rosy cheeks, and the knobby knees are ever so reminiscent of my childhood. Neel has captured the essence of this moment, rendering these girls as boyish and shy, their mother sturdy and calm. Her portraits are all this way, able to capture emotion and feeling, this unique moment in time. This is why her portraits are so powerful and why you can look at them time and time again and discover new feelings, new parts of your own story.
As I get older, I’ve begun to pay more attention to the mother in the painting. Her face is thin, her eyes full of exhaustion. Her face represents a piece of my childhood I don’t remember or perhaps wasn’t aware of. Mothers, like my own, are often overworked, taking care of their children while also redefining themselves in this new chapter of their lives. Neel herself was very aware of this dance, worried that raising children would mean giving up painting. She understood the toil of motherhood, what it meant to be needed 24/7. The physical lines in this piece connect to the mother, centering her. Each girl reaches for their mother, her body morphing into theirs as she gives herself to them emotionally and physically. The child that sits in her lap is inseparable from her. Here we see these trials represented in this mother. She sits weathered down slightly. She’s durable, surviving the inevitable wear and tear of raising a child in America.
Now, as I continue to grow up, I’ve learned more and more about my own mother. About her struggles when raising me and my three siblings. About her secret happiest moments of being a mom, moments sometimes shared in the middle of the night between her and my three-month-old self. During these four years at Davidson, we are growing up in a new and scary way. Without our families nearby, we begin to reflect on our own experiences of family and childhood while simultaneously looking forward as we create new families of our own. Currently, Davidson students live in a limbo of our found family. I come home to an apartment of four women every night. My one roommate makes us cookies, wearing a striped shirt much like the child in the portrait. Another friend is asleep on the couch, beaten down from a long day like the mother in the portrait. The four of us sit and talk. We share our days. When I look at Alice Neel’s Family, I see myself equally in all of the characters. But not only do I see myself, I see my mother, my sisters, my teachers, my friends. Alice Neel’s Family is a playful yet poignant piece that reminds us of the bittersweetness of motherhood.
– Abi Brissett 26′