Siren Series April 9 - 27, 2024


Sirens

Throughout history, the Siren has been cast as a cautionary figure — a creature both feared and revered, whose power was framed entirely through the male gaze. Sensual, alluring, dangerous. A temptress whose song existed only to destroy. In Homer's Odyssey, Odysseus famously resists that call, binding himself to the mast rather than surrender to what the Siren offers. The message was clear: female allure and autonomy were something to be survived.

I've always been drawn to what that story leaves out.

The Sirens series began as a question — what happens when you strip away the patriarchal framing and look at these women directly? Not as symbols of danger or desire, but as sovereign beings in their own right. What are their untold stories? What did they carry? What did they overcome?

The women I've painted — Frida Kahlo, Jackie Kennedy Onassis, Marilyn Monroe, Elizabeth Taylor, Audre Lorde, Bell Hooks — were all, in their own way, cast as Sirens by the world around them. Mythologised. Reduced. Made into images that served someone else's narrative. And yet each of them refused that reduction. Each of them insisted, in her own way, on being seen whole.

There is something uncomfortably familiar about all of this. We live now in a world of infinite screens, where women are still cast as modern Sirens — unattainable ideals flickering on the other side of a phone screen, simultaneously omnipresent and out of reach. The labyrinth has simply moved online.

These paintings are my response to that. An act of reclamation. Each portrait is an invitation to look past the surface — past the extraneous beauty, the mythology, the carefully managed image — and bear witness to the woman beneath. Her resilience. Her complexity. The power she held that the prevailing narrative tried so hard to contain.

Heed the call of the Siren. But this time, she's calling you toward something — not away from it.


 by Anthea Mentzalis, April 2024