She writes rap lyrics on vintage lingerie and paints gynaecological instruments bubblegum pink. Now, for her first UK show, the Brooklyn-based British artist is tackling the mental, physical and financial fallout from a miscarriage
Zoë Buckman’s uterus has been doing the rounds on social media. The Brooklyn-based artist made the kinetic sculpture, which comprises a neon outline of an abstracted reproductive organ with fibreglass boxing gloves as ovaries, in the run-up to the 2016 US election, amid conversations about contraception, abortion and rape. Six years later, with abortion no longer protected under the constitution, the work is sadly just as relevant. “I appreciate anyone who shares it because it was intended to be a piece about resilience and resistance that united us,” says Buckman. “But for me, it’s become something that’s associated with bad news. I see that someone’s posted it and I think, ‘Oh God, what’s happened now?’”
Buckman, who was born in east London in 1985 and moved to New York to study photography in 2008, has made a name for herself creating art about the female experience. Spanning embroidery, sculpture, poetry, photography and film, her work – with echoes of Louise Bourgeois, Judy Chicago and Tracey Emin – explores sex, trauma and violence from both a personal and a social perspective. “I’m pretty certain I wouldn’t be where I’m at in my career if I weren’t in New York,” she says. “And one reason is because I don’t think I’d be having the same response to the work if I weren’t living among this shit. The UK is fucked, but not nearly as fucked as America. My friends in the UK have the right to sexual healthcare and they have support. In the US, choice is reserved for the elite and the blessed.”
