“LIFE ONCE REMOVED” : deconstructing the work of photographer Suzanne Heintz

Over the last 15 years, Suzanne Heintz has generated significant
interest and widespread critical acclaim with her ongoing photographic
project, “Life Once Removed”.

But this has come at a cost.

A major part of her work involves providing the infrastructure that
supports the transportation, configuration and composition of a family
group largely consisting of life sized mannequins. Consequently,
Heintz has attracted a degree of unwarranted media attention that
denigrates her as “crazy” and dismisses her work as being “mad”.

This is a sore point for Heintz but does highlight three important
issues. The first being the media’s insatiable appetite for sensationalist
material; the second, its knee jerk condemnation of that which isn’t
readily understood and the third, society’s need to categorise and
label everything that is encompassed by the term, “Art”.

In Heintz case, this is strangely ironic because her work seeks
to explore how the media has shaped our sense of values and
our understanding of human interactions and aspirations within
contemporary society. In “Life Once Removed”, Heintz appears to
adopt wholeheartedly a value system that has been peddled and
perpetrated by an invasive mass media with the sole purpose of
exposing it as fundamentally frail and flawed; far from being “crazy”,

Suzanne Heintz is perhaps the sanest cuckoo in a particularly bizarre
nest.

Of course, it’s easy to fall into the trap of viewing Heintz images on a
superficial level; this is the intention. At first glance, the body of work
consists of beautifully composed, technically accomplished, richly
coloured photographs that are reminiscent of all the images we have
in our own family albums. Each is filled with recognisable characters
in familiar locations, engaged in safe, cosy, family orientated activities
and pursuits; they emit positivity and wholesomeness.

But to fully understand the nature of Heintz’ output, it is necessary
to deconstruct these photographs and consider them from a wider
perspective, not to label but to provide context and thus form a more
accurate opinion of their true value as a piece of social commentary.

A contemporary context
In mid-20th century America, consumer aspirations were reflected
in the kaleidoscopic colour schemes of Pop Art. The product and
celebrity rich collages, razor sharp lines and lurid graphics of
Rauschenberg, Lichtenstein and Warhol et al typified the burgeoning
rise of the Pop Art movement. At a stroke, the artwork derived
from that previously produced solely for the purpose of advertising
became simply, Art. But it was Art which no longer merely advertised
a product. Pop Art became inseparable from the personalities of
those who created it-we still refer to “Andy Warhol’s soup tins” – and
thus Pop Art created the celebrity Pop Artist.

The movement provided the foundry within which much of our
contemporary culture was forged. Our obsession with instantaneously
generated celebrities, the escalating popularity of reality television
and the plethora of retro advertisements across the mass media
all have their roots in Pop Art. Yet far from breeding contempt, the
appeal of this genre continues to attract admirers and its influence
can still be detected across many contemporary disciplines.
And I suspect that our nostalgic yearning for this particular period in
our cultural history is exemplified in the work of Suzanne Heintz.

Travel
I’ve written about Heintz’ work before and I was delighted to be
invited along to cover her recent trip to London, the latest episode in
the “Life Once Removed” series. On site in Parliament Square, I was
immediately aware of the attraction Heintz’ and her mannequins held
for a largely transitory, tourist audience as a seemingly endless flow
of spectators stopped to watch her and her stereotypical American
family unit in action. But the downside of this fascination saw Heintz
and her crew moved along by the authorities twice on the grounds
that her presence was creating a “disturbance”. Given that almost
every one of the several hundred individuals in Parliament Square
that afternoon was engaged in exactly the same type of activity,
namely photographing their friends and family against the backdrop
of Big Ben, it would appear that two mannequins and an American
photographer have the power to disturb the status quo.

And this unearths another layer in Heintz work; the power we invest
in humanoid forms because it is in the nature of human beings to
personify inanimate objects. This is not a modern phenomenon.
Ancient peoples prayed to statues just as small girls continue to talk
to their dolls and adult males are forever condemned to cajole their
reluctant cars to start on cold mornings. Suzanne Heintz’ use of her
mannequins constitutes an extension of this behaviour. However, it
is Heintz inclusion of herself in her work and crucially, her interaction
with her mannequin family that takes the potency of the figurine to
the next stage.

Personality and the practitioner
It was always the big question; does life follow art or art follow life?
Of course there have always been those for whom the question is
meaningless because their lives, as in the case of Suzanne Heintz, are
inextricably bound up in their art. The self-portrait notwithstanding,
artists have been incorporating images of themselves in their work
since people first daubed caves and canvas; consider Lascaux, and
examples in the paintings of Velazquez and Rembrandt as examples.
The great showmen of mid to late 20th century art, Picasso and Dali
started the cult of personality and produced work that was singularly
theirs; instantly recognisable and an obvious extension not merely of
their subconscious but of their conscience; of their egos, personalities
and lives. Perhaps less obviously, their predecessors Monet, Renoir
and Matisse in their latter years produced work that reflected their
failing health, work that echoed their struggles with visual impairment,
failing motor skills and debilitating arthritis. Their predicaments
are reflected in their art, the very afflictions that caused them pain
and discomfort in the real world became the key influencers in the
production of their works of art.

Some artists remove this transitory stage completely and make
themselves an integral part of their work, Gilbert and George and
Cindy Sherman being two recent examples.

Suzanne Heintz’ sits alongside this genre, but within her work she
is practitioner, participant and ultimately, protagonist; she remains
Suzanne while creating an alternative world in which she is the
principle character, a world that parallels her own but presents us
with a vision of what might have been …This is tantalising because
we, her audience, know that although Heintz has chosen to create
this world, she retains her observer status, despite being a major
player in a parallel universe of her own creation. The characters may
be hers – and they populate and perform in the various scenarios
Heintz creates for them – but each seems capable of contributing
to a multitude of sub plots which serve to deepen the layers of
believability that pervade Suzanne’s work. We are left with the sense
that we are watching the principle characters in a very personal Soap
Opera, as orchestrated by a master story teller and chronicler of one
specific aspect of the human condition; life for 21st century, American
women of a certain age.

Television and the female role model
This implies that we should be asking ourselves the question, just
who are our contemporary female role models? If media exposure is
to be taken as the benchmark then are we to look to airbrushed and
photoshopped, stick thin supermodels for guidance? Or perhaps we
should reference designer moms who are reunited with their bikini
bodies on magazine covers days after giving birth?

There are several elements at play in Heintz work. Visually we are
witnessing an amalgam of icons of popular culture. Sources stretch
back to the American television shows of the 1950’s such as “I Love
Lucy” with its quirky, domesticated but sassy females and stoic but
long suffering men, through the plethora of Soap Operas filled with
familial and sexual tensions to what amounts to a celebration of this
televisual Golden Age; the popularity of “Mad Men”.

Television has been the all-pervasive medium which has formed
and reflected our view of gender roles, among other issues. As a
visual medium it has no need for language and like the imagery of
advertising, creates and then reinforces time and again a view of how
our world should be. It is no coincidence that early American TV was
sponsored by the big corporations peddling domestic products; buy
our merchandise and you too can be like Lucy… Suzanne Heintz has
distilled these multi-levelled messages in single images which take
the underlying message and repackage it in concentrated form; like
an effective detergent.

In Heintz photographs the colours are brighter, the women more
feminine, the males more masculine, the children are as children
should be; clean and seen and not heard. Even the settings for
Heintz photographs are sanitised; in her travel series, Paris and the
gardens of the Eiffel Tower are without peddlers, London is litterless
and there is no slush at Aspen. But this is deliberate attempt to
create a garish caricature of perfection; a plastic, soulless version
of reality as remembered in a dream or seen through the rose tinted
lens of nostalgia.

In “Life Once Removed”, Heintz is reminding us that when we look
back on our past we do not see it in monochrome but in Kodachrome;
we filter out the black clouds, we remove the unsightly spots and
blemishes, we Photoshop our own visual memories. I suspect that
as a child of the late 20th century Suzanne is reminding us, as her
contemporaries, that our memories are bathed in Technicolour.

And there are theatrical influences in Heintz project too. Proscenium
arch theatre has the audience as the fourth wall – as does television –
and performers are reminded not to look at the camera or audience.
Heintz’ “Life Once removed” portfolio records a performance.
Although Heintz characters are positioned to interact with each
other, they present themselves for our scrutiny, battening down as
much of the visual information they can to present the perfect picture
to their audience. We are reminded of images of JFK and Jacqui.
The President and the First Lady as the American dream personified;
glamorous, groomed, great hair, the modern space age couple, savvy
and sexy. But now we know the reality, the sham behind the glam.
Heintz presents us with her version of the perfect moment, time and
time again in her work. Her images remind us of key points in our
lives that chronicle our time on earth. But hers are not merely images
recorded for posterity; these are photographs that are airbrushed to
preserve our sense of who and what we are.

Essentially, Heintz work is a series of portraits composed in the same
manner and with the same intent as the monarchs and merchants of
Renaissance Europe who created an image for their viewing public.
Status and achievement were captured for all time in the trapping
of wealth and symbols of authority these paintings contained. Thus
Holbein et al can be regarded as the world’s first image consultants.

Art, photography and allegory
Consequently, should we regard Heintz’ images as allegorical; just
as the medieval audience recognised the secular and religious
symbolism in medieval art, does not the contemporary viewer
identify with the imagery in Heintz’ work? Goodness, purity and
virtue are simply replaced by financial success, product acquisition
and achievement of a certain life style based on the balanced family
unit; modern values for a modern religion.

We are as familiar with Heintz use of visual language as any medieval
audience would be with depictions from the testaments. The Eiffel
Tower, Paris, Big Ben, London and the Aspen ski lodge, provide
a modern audience with a context as familiar as the Gardens of
Gethsemane, Mount Olive and Calgary would be to its medieval
counterpart. And Heintz’ colours are as rich, vivid and intense as
those in any medieval painting, her composition is based on the Rule
of Thirds and her embodiment of an allegorical sub text is just as
powerful. Perhaps most importantly, Heintz audience is invited to
project their lives into the narrative presented to them because these
images are intended to inform, inspire and reassure in equal measure.
But there is a sinister undertone in Heintz work.

Reality versus perception
The male mannequin in Heintz work is Chauncey; white, slim, full of
hair and smooth of skin, his teeth are even, his jaw is firm. Similarly,
the children are clean and uncrushed, unsullied by the realities of
the world outside this fantasy. Heintz herself plays a character in
this pictorial charade; immaculately dressed and made-up, she has
created a new species, one that women everywhere have been
invited to aspire to. Suzanne Heintz is Sit-Com Mom; a woman for all
seasons. But while Heintz may yet achieve immortality through her
work, her tragedy is that Chauncey and the children will never age,
never wither and die as Heintz and her character must – there is a
moral here.

Essentially, Heintz’ alternative universe is akin to a very, very fine
piece of video gaming; no matter how hard you try to leave the set or
peer around the edges of this manufactured setting you can’t. And
this is what is so powerful about her work; it is a complete, albeit
small universe.

So does life follow art? I suspect that in this case the two are so
inextricably bound together that neither Heintz nor her audience is
able to differentiate between them.

Ultimately the power of Heintz’ work lies in her taking the assumptions
and aspirations upon which our current society has based its values
and carrying them through to their logical conclusion. If we truly value
the superficiality of the visual image we present to the world over the
solidity of the reality that underpins it, then this is the result; a picture
postcard perfect world which presents a visually pleasing panorama
but is actually paper thin; literally a house of cards.

An invasive global culture
Heintz work presents us with an interesting cultural phenomenon. It
should be uniquely American. Her images emit a nostalgic glow which
incorporates film star glamour and the televisual wholesomeness
that dominated family broadcasting in the USA for much of the late
1950’s and 1960’s. Think beyond “I Love Lucy” to “The Dick Van
Dyke Show” and “The Brady Bunch”. Thanks to the international
popularity of these prime time shows, this essentially American
idyll has impregnated popular cultural on a global scale. Heintz has
succeeded in referencing this era in her work, accurately capturing
images of pseudo memories embedded within our collective
imaginations, false memories of a world which only ever existed
on American television; a truly remarkable achievement. There is
something discomfortingly similar to the premise in Philip K. Dick’s
science fiction story, “We Can Remember It for You Wholesale”
happening here.

As time passes, perhaps a future generation will look back on these
images and think that they represent a true reflection of life at that
time; technicolour blue skies with the occasional fluffy white cloud
framing perfect moments in a perfect family’s perfect history. Thus
the fantasy becomes the reality… in time.

Influences and genre
Suzanne Heintz has been documenting her parallel life for nearly 15
years.
Those who look for photographic influences in Heintz’ images must
consider the work of Cindy Sherman and Chris Parr; Sherman for her
inclusion of the artist in her own work and Parr for his use of colour
saturation to evoke times gone by, recreating a version of the British
summer holiday, a technicolour, fairground of candy floss and illusion;
deck chairs and ice cream. But while Sherman casts herself as a
series of iconic figures from modern America’s past, Heintz presents
us with a vision of herself as she might have been, the embodiment
of Warhol’s predication that “in the future everyone will be famous for
15 minutes”.
Heintz production values compare favourably to the cinematic
sweep of Gregory Crewdson’s work, but with a domestic, almost
claustrophobic feel which enhances the atmosphere in her work. At
a stroke, we experience the colours and dynamism of the 1960’s T.V.
commercial overlaid by a veneer of glamour that masks the reality
of mid-20th century, middle class American life – it’s like watching
“Happy Days” on mute.

Comedy and tragedy
Heintz appears to have sanitised the life of her alter ego to present
an idealised version of her reality to her public. This is merely an
extension of that human trait which kicks in when we retell a story in
which we feature;, we become not only the narrator but the central
character, the hero of the piece, essentially, the star; self-effacing
but eloquent, witty, decent and attractive – delete as applicable.
Heintz photographs are a visual version of this all too human trait.
By generating a false memory, again consider Phillip K. Dick’s short
story, you can have the pleasant memories without the hassle of
living through the reality. This is how Facebook works; we present an
image of ourselves we want our viewing public to see.
Heintz’ project has grown and evolved as she has, reflecting her
changing attitude to her world in her subject matter and in her
treatment of it. I suspect that what started out as a comedic but
frustration laden reaction to perceptions of her marital status has
developed into an extended commentary on the American Dream.
Presented as a comedy, the true nature of her work is a pastel
coloured tragedy – and all the more powerful for it.
We’re laughing so hard, we’ll burst into tears at any moment.

The good ol’ days
Heintz’ imagery reflects stability; a world where Dads’ knew things
about stuff that mattered and Mom’s baked apple pies and wore
pinafores and looked and smelt healthy and clean and nobody had
tattoos – apart from Popeye – and everyone’s day revolved around the
kitchen table. TV viewing was a communal experience and everyone
used the same telephone. Your neighbours and their neighbours and
those across the street and the people who lived in the next town all
shared the same values.

But is there a deeper, repressed memory at work here? Many of us
of a certain age will recall the East/West tension of the early 1960’s
when Kennedy and Khrushchev faced off during the Cuban Missile
Crisis. The whole world genuinely believed that a nuclear attack was
imminent. Television stations broadcast public safety warnings about
the effects of the radiation that would follow a nuclear detonation.
Graphic footage demonstrated the effect the blast would have on
the physical infrastructure of cities and their populations – illustrated
by the use of families of test dummies posed in domestic situations,
pre and post nuclear holocaust. It would be a very insensitive person
indeed who remained immune to those monochrome images of
shattered bodies and mangled limbs.

Perhaps this is the dark underbelly that underpins the hope and
wholesomeness we think we see in Heintz’ “Life Once Removed”.

The manufactured image
In creating an image of the perfect family, it is invariably the mother
who strives to present the flawless image of her model family; best
clothes, brushed hair, standing up straight, clean teeth perfection.
This is a family portrait that will present a 360 degree representation
of the totality of the unit – so much more than a mere photograph.
Heintz work is an extension of this; she literally models her model
family.

Heintz is the supreme American matriarch, a real woman who has
taken as her inspiration, the T.V. and movie Moms’ of the 1960’s to
become the puppet master, the Dr Frankenstein of Mary Shelly’s
novel, the scientist who breathes life into inanimate matter, moulding
her creations into creatures to her own specification.

Ironically, Heintz may be at the forefront of a major cultural backlash;
the herald of a counter culture forever jaded by the warts and all
approach of reality television but too savvy to embrace the photo
shopped perfection of media generated celebrities. Perhaps we
are in the grip of a yearning for the stability of the 1960’s; despite
that era’s predilection for gender stereotyping and other forms of
prejudice. But the glamour we associated with those early American
television shows has been replaced by a tarnished, more realistic
vision of the period. “Mad Men” isn’t “The Dick van Dyke Show”.
The suits maybe just as sharp and the women similarly coiffured but
when viewed from our contemporary perspective, we now accept
that our cast of characters is flawed, that they smoke and drink, that
their relationships have consequences and that they, like all people,
will die.

Suzanne Heintz in context
Heintz work is not only the logical extension of the Pop Art movement;
it is Pop Art personified. Pop Art celebrated the iconic visual language
of mid-20th century advertising; the energetic fonts, the vibrant
colours and clean lines demanded that the consumer purchase these
items and become a member of the 20th century consumer society;
Suzanne’s work demonstrates who you will become if you accept
membership.

If we accept that the Pop Art Movement was based on contemporary
society’s obsession with the main elements of consumerism, such as
mass marketing and the promotion of celebrity, then it can be argued
that Suzanne’s imagery represents a logical progression. Certainly
she deals with gender issues but her sub text is firmly rooted in the
consumerist doctrine; conspicuous consumption and the cult of selfpromotion.
Her bright and breezy images invite us into her seemingly
flawless world, a world populated by faultless people who are adorned
with the trappings of their success, who pose unselfconsciously
and eagerly for her camera in postcard perfect locations. Thus her
characters have created their own instant version of fame, their own
celebrity.

So perfect are these images that after the initial sugar rush, there is
an aftertaste and that aftertaste is bitter… The message is clear; be
careful what you wish for…

All images courtesy of Suzanne Heintz.