There was a piece of news this week that has enraged women in the US: the Republican governor of Virginia, Glenn Youngkin, blocked a bill passed in the Democratic-led state senate (supported by half the chamber's Republicans) to ban search warrants for menstrual data stored on period-tracking apps (currently used by millions of women) on computers, mobile phones and other electronic devices.
Youngkin's deputy secretary of public safety, Maggie Cleary, claimed the decision was taken to avoid restricting the scope of search warrants. Yet, killing the bill seems to be an infringement of women's privacy as it implies that private health information could be used in prosecutions for abortion law violations, especially after the U.S. Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade.
Youngkin pushed for a 15-week abortion ban, but the legislation did not advance in the House or Senate, so he may be looking for other ways to enforce it that may end up criminalising patients and medical providers (even though Youngkin insisted that any abortion restrictions would target doctors and not women who have the procedure). Yet the decision to seek menstrual histories of women in the state is extreme, it proves indeed that menstruation has become once again a weapon in the hands of men.
Menstruation has always been a taboo subject: in different cultures menstrual blood is considered filthy and impure; it suggests contagion and illness, or it is seen as something that poses limits to the female body and weakens it. Incontrollable, and therefore also powerful and dangerous, it associates the female body with something in constant mutation, unstable, and, therefore, evil.
In Volatile Bodies, author Elizabeth Grosz (1994) states that it "indicates the beginning of an out-of-control status". We may add that, by seeking menstrual histories of women, Youngkin is trying to re-appropriate menstruation and the female body almost to restore control and re-establish through data the patriarchal belief that menstruation makes the female body inferior to the male body and, therefore, subject to it.
Art can be a powerful tool to confront Youngkin and, in particular, menstrual art. Throughout the decades different artists approached the subject from various points of views, analysing the bleeding stage of the cycle in connection with patriarchy, racism, capitalism, medicine, disability and beauty. In quite a few cases, artists used their own menstrual blood, to try and eradicate "menstrual shame" and subvert the stigma around menstruation that is found globally,
In 1971 artist Judy Chicago removed a used tampon from her vagina and immortalised the action in the photolithography "Red Flag". Part of her Early Feminist (1970-1974) period, "Red Flag" is widely accepted as the first image depicting menstruation in western contemporary art.
The piece "Blood Work Diary", consisting in menstrual blottings on tissue was instead created a year later by Carolee Schneemann, while, in 1973, Judy Clark collected menstrual blood, creating a test strip of circular menstrual bloodstains arranged in a grid.
Menstrual blood is almost always involved, but the ways in which it is depicted varies: Denver-based artist Jen Lewis created the "Beauty in Blood" series in 2012, while working as an administrative assistant at the University of Michigan in the Division of Infectious Diseases.
Inspired by the medical images she saw every day at work, showing bones, blood cells and neurons and after starting using a menstrual cup, Lewis pondered on the notions of disgust and contamination. She then began experimenting taking macrophotography of her menstrual blood: in her images, filaments of blood move in the water of a toilet bowl creating abstract configurations, characterized by vibrant colours.
The main goal of the series remains removing all the taboos surrounding menstrual blood as something ugly and scary (as opposed to male blood, celebrated as an act of courage when artists employ it in their works…).
Chilean artist Carina Úbeda saved five year's worth of her own blood for her work "Cloths" (2013) and hung the soiled and embroidered menstrual cloths in an installation tackling themes such as time, memory and women's crafts.
In 2015 anonymous Middle Eastern artist and sociopolitical activist Saint Hoax added menstrual blood to Disney princesses after a friend told him a story about being rejected by a man after she suddenly got her period during a first date.
In the same year, Canadian artist Rupi Kaur posted on Instagram her self-portrait showing the artist lying on her bed with a small bloodstain visible on her trousers and on the bedsheet. Though Kaur was trying to demystifying the period, the photograph ended up being banned from the social media platform that eventually restored it after users complained.
Menstrual blood has also been used to make political comments: Sarah Levy painted a portrait of Donald Trump with her menstrual blood, for example. Calling it "Whatever" (2015), the piece was a response to Trump's remarks about TV presenter Megyn Kelly after she hosted a debate. The former US President stated: "You could see there was blood coming out of her eyes. Blood coming out of her wherever."
Rather than hiding menstrual blood, usually considered as something disturbing that shouldn't be seen in public (but, for Youngkin, it is instead perfectly fine infringing women's privacy and unveiling private health information regarding menstrual data…), these artists featured it prominently in their works and installations, turning it into a creative material with some strong social and political implications. Menstrual art can (and should) therefore be used as a symbol of resistance against expected norms and against people like Youngkin. Expect more pioneeering menstrual art to be created soon. Period.
