Theirs Vanity by Emily Rovillo

 

 

STATEMENT BY THE ARTIST:
The concept behind Theirs Vanity is gender, authority, and destruction. These words may seem disjointed and unrelated, but in terms of LGBT history and the experiences of gender nonconforming/nonbinary people, they are near inseparable. I wanted to take the idea of a gendered space, in this case a bathroom, and flip it on its head. The piece features a vanity. Rather than create the everpopular “his and hers” bathroom vanity, I created a “theirs” vanity. Theirs, in this case, refers to gender neutrality and is singular.

At first glance the vanity seems typical. It has the faucet, drawers, and taps that you would expect, along with a dish of soap, a cup, and perfume. But upon closer inspection, there are some unexpected objects that hint at the history behind the piece. The cup, for example, contains a knife. Beside it is a small pile of bricks. A wine bottle with cloth strips rests next to the sink – a Molotov cocktail. Next to the perfume is a lighter. These are objects of destruction. What could they possibly be doing in this setting?

In 1969, the Stonewall Inn in New York City was raided by police for being a known LGBT bar and gathering place. This occurrence is often cited as the birth of the modern pride movement in America, and one of the most enduring images from the event is the throwing of bricks, which is what the people in Stonewall did to fight back against the police. This gave way to the saying “the first gay pride was a riot,” and ideas like this have become more and more important to remember as pride is more commercialized. The bricks in my 3-D model are meant to directly pay tribute to all the people, especially Marsha P. Johnson, who were at Stonewall that day and who fought for the rights of LGBT Americans.

The general protest nature of this piece is also why a Molotov cocktail is featured. While this item has less specific ties to the LGBT movement, Molotov cocktails are globally a symbol of riots, counterculture, anti-fascism, and the kind of anti-authoritarian sentiments that are fundamental to gay and trans liberation. The knife in the cup has several different meanings, some good and some very negative. Sadly, trans people have extremely high rates of self harm and suicide, particularly among trans boys and nonbinary youth (according to the Human Rights Campaign). The blade can be a symbol for that, but it can also be a symbol of hope when we consider gender reassignment surgery and the proverbial “going under the knife.” I think different people will interpret this element of my piece differently, depending on their own experience.

The lighter has a bit of a double meaning too, as it can hint toward LGBT peoples’ increased risk of addiction, but its placement next to the perfume has the same rebellious significance of many of the other objects. The two, when combined together, can become a weapon. The inclusion of the perfume bottle has personal significance to me as well, because it was inspired by a memory of wanting to buy a small bottle of men’s fragrance, but forcing myself to put it back out of fear of my parents finding out. But I can freely purchase scents that are marketed to women. For a young trans kid dealing with intense social dysphoria, having that bit of masculinity in my life would have been so reaffirming, and there is an entire rant I could get into about the pointlessness of gendered products and the simultaneous, complex relationship trans people have with them, but for the sake of brevity I’m going to just present that one anecdote.

Lastly, the gleaming vanity is placed within very grungy walls. I wanted the room to seem dirty and almost prisonlike, hence the lack of windows (I left an open part of wall only so people could actually enter the space). The message here is pretty simple: gender is a trap. Conforming to the gender you were assigned when you entered this world, based on the shape of your genitals, feels like a prison to me, and I had no choice but to break down the walls I was given.