Romanian Mihaela Noroc has
travelled extensively since 2013 photographing women in everyday situations,
and in The Atlas of Beauty: Women of the
World in 500 Portraits (2017) she presents colour images taken in about 50
countries. There are women of all kinds,
from different backgrounds and of different ages (though the bulk of them are
fairly young, perhaps reflecting the author’s own age). Most are photographed in the street,
presumably stopped in passing; in other cases she has sought out subjects, such
as in Kurdish-held territory and in refugee camps.
A number of the photographs have a
paragraph of biographical commentary attached, occasionally with the subject’s
name, others simply note the places they were taken. Several pages consist of thumbnails with no
further information, presumably because of space constraints. Often, however, we learn about subjects’ lives,
which are frequently hard, and their aspirations, giving depth to the portraits. Noroc is keen to show women carving a role
for themselves, particularly in male-dominated professions.
Naturally there are a number of
photographs of Romanian women (Noroc lives in Bucharest), plus a Moldovan who
happened to be in Romania to sing at a concert.
Romania has not been privileged in any way as Noroc is internationalist
in her outlook, though surprisingly half the Romanian shots were taken in
Bucharest when one would have expected her to have travelled more widely in her
own country.
While the book’s title might lead
the reader to assume these are going to be Vogue-style shots, Noroc’s
intention in fact is to challenge conventional notions, expanding the term to
find beauty in all women, not restricting it to those who conform to a
particular commercialised notion which is selling a sexualised image in the
service of profit: a male conception of what constitutes attractiveness. As she points out, that representation
becomes a norm against which women often judge themselves, frequently with
negative consequences.
Instead, Noroc wants to highlight
that the western glamour standard is artificial (conversely those cultures
which insist on a male-imposed idea of what constitutes ‘modesty’ also inhibit
women’s free expression). If those she
approached felt they were not beautiful, or looking too dowdy to be
photographed, they were judging themselves by an external criterion. Women, she argues, should be able to be
themselves, without external demands or constraints, to demonstrate there is
diversity in beauty, and beauty in diversity.
It is an authenticity coming from within: she only uses natural light, a
good decision as lighting can be used to manipulate the look and introduces an
editorial aspect.
She emphasises the importance both
of valuing roots (often photographing women in traditional costumes) and of looking
forward, always stressing tolerance, compassion and kindness. There is a campaigning edge because she
depicts women clearly living under oppressive cultural and religious
strictures. She uses her photography to
break down barriers of all kinds, to remind us that we are part of one family
and should be looking for connections, not differences, to improve the world.
This is not a systematic survey,
and many women refused her request to take a picture, because of mistrust or
lack of confidence, but often because of patriarchal social pressures. She also has quite a few countries to go, so
it is a stretch to call it an atlas.
Admittedly in many cases Noroc faced language problems, but I would like
to have had more text to amplify the photographs, and learn about the wider
situations of those depicted. The photograph
was the thing, the words, which would have helped the reader to know about those
photographed, are often either perfunctory or absent.
One final point: noroc in Romanian
means luck, so I wondered if it was actually a pseudonym. Either way, she has made her own luck in
initiating a project that reminds us of our interconnectedness, and in so doing
touched many.
