‘What would a man do?’

When I was young, I was so often in despair, feeling overwhelmed and fatally crushed by circumstances. Certainly, I could blame myself for my failure to sell my art... But there was also the bias of masculinist, patriarchal judgement to consider, wasn’t there? The word woman attached to any profession – be it an architect, artist, or lawyer – seemed to flick the OFF switch (and often still does). Down came the impenetrable curtain that blinded people from seeing clearly. Woman, girl, lady: synonyms for less than, second rate, never good enough.

How could I overcome this bias against my sex, against women? I needed a defence to ward off profound anguish. I needed to find mental strength. I needed a visualisation strategy – an innovative tactic to bolster my courage when feelings of failure threatened to sabotage my work. One of my many mental gambits was to ask myself this question: What would a man do? How do men entitle themselves to be bold, powerful and successful? If I make myself a Cock Mask, I thought, it might help. I created my mask (I have it still) from cardboard, painted red, with tie-on strings attached. I wore it, relishing the transformative masquerade.

I made my Cock Mask to imagine the experience of male power and entitlement – to learn how to survive and be my creative self as a free, determined woman. This painting, Self in Cock Mask 2003, represents my struggle with my identity as a female artist, and how that identity is constructed and contradicted by the culture in which I work.

Using myself as a life model is cheap – I’m available, as it were. For drawing practice, I’ll use pencil, chalk, charcoal – any medium that is to hand. When I plan a painting, I start with a squared, finished pencil sketch. I size my canvas with rabbit- skin glue and make a grisaille before adding colour. When I paint self-portraits, I believe that showing my hands is crucial. Hands tell of personality – they show the work we do. But, being the most difficult part of the human body to draw convincingly, some artists don’t bother. Hands are a real test of skill.

In this self-portrait icon, I am naked as a display of honesty. Although I am wearing my symbolic Cock Mask, before me is a painting of my sex – the clitoris- vagina as a symbol of my strong libido. In my hands, manicured with pink nail varnish, I am holding the attributes of my art: a paintbrush and pencil.

Looking back at this painting today, I laugh at my erection – the priapic play. I enjoy the way I dared poke fun at false, misogynistic theories like ‘penis envy’ (Freud) and ‘what women lack’ (Lacan). And, the triumphant manifestation of my feelings in a Cock Mask succeeded – its special psychological meaning has kept me going, present and painting.

^{Self in Cock Mask was presented anonymously in 2021.}

^{Caroline Coon is an artist, writer, political activist and a trailblazer of London’s counterculture, having been a key part of the early punk scene. Her limited-edition photographic print Ari Up in her Silver Jubilee Knickers, Sussex University, Brighton, 15th June 1977 is available to buy at shop.tate.org.uk/prints/limited-editions.}