arts and design

Mary Wollstonecraft statue becomes one of 2020's most polarising artworks

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“It’s marvellous, I think it is unbelievably beautiful,” said Hilary Everett, a retired social worker, as she walked past one of the most controversial, most debated and most polarising public artworks of 2020.

But Michaela Crimmin, a reader in art passing by a few minutes later, disagreed: “I loathe it. There’s no aesthetic to it. This is one of the very few public outdoor spaces in our area and to put this there is very brazen. I object to the material, I object to the shape of it and I think the actual sculpture looks ridiculous on that plinth.”

The “it” is Maggi Hambling’s A Sculpture for Mary Wollstonecraft, which was unveiled last month in Newington Green, north London. Within minutes of the Guardian revealing its existence, social media went bananas. What the hell was it? Why was the mother of feminism being celebrated with a naked Barbie doll at the top of it? Surely a colossal error of judgment?

Since the statue went up, the small naked figure at the top, meant to be a spirit of womanhood and not Wollstonecraft, has been regularly covered by people who felt it sent out the wrong message.

Bee Rowlatt hugging the Mary Wollstonecraft statue
Bee Rowlatt loves the Mary Wollstonecraft statue: ‘I’ve come out with a fiercer love for it.’ Photograph: Jill Mead/The Guardian

“I was absolutely furious when a friend told me that,” said Everett. “I thought: what is the matter with us women? I mean my body’s not like hers, but I just felt so proud … yes! This is us! It is just perfect for Mary Wollstonecraft.”

The statue was unveiled after a 10-year community campaign to raise £143,000 for what is the world’s only memorial statue to Wollstonecraft, the philosopher and educationalist who lived and worked in the area and is best known for A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, published in 1792.

One aim was to stimulate debate. To say it has done that is an understatement.

“We went headlong in to an international media storm,” said Bee Rowlatt, a writer who led the campaign. “A lot of the debate was really ill-informed. I don’t mind if people don’t like it. I do mind that it was misrepresented. I did a lot of TV, and what they would do is show a cropped, zoomed-in version, just the breasts and pubic area, which of course did look odd. Here we are sitting in this park and the ‘rude bits’ are the last thing you see.”

A protester covers the statue with a T-shirt.
A protester covers the statue with a T-shirt. Photograph: Paul Childs/Reuters

Many of the most trenchant, bruising voices against the statue were from high-profile feminists. “There wasn’t a huge amount of sisterhood in some of the comments,” said Rowlatt. “Someone joked to me that Wollstonecraft, as patron saint of freelance women writers, would have said ‘well at least everyone got a gig out of it’.

“It is unfortunate, and I didn’t want to engage because it’s the ancient spectacle of the feminist catfight, I don’t want any part of it. I have learned that a lot of people feel they own Mary Wollstonecraft, and of course nobody does.”

The reaction did affect Rowlatt emotionally, but she said there were no regrets. “I think Maggi Hambling is an exceptional artist. I have total faith in her and I’m proud to have defended her work. I believe in it. If anything I like it more now … I’ve come out with a fiercer love for it.”

On the freezing cold, misty December morning that the Guardian visited almost nobody could walk past the statue without stopping, talking to people with them, or taking a photograph.

It will transform Newington Green, said Lizzy Bassham, owner of the cafe Lizzy’s on the Green. “It has become a tourist attraction. Everyone, whatever gender they are, has an opinion on it and that’s lovely. It’s a buzz. Opinions might be polarised, but everybody is talking about Mary, people are discussing it while they are getting a coffee. Mary Wollstonecraft was a radical woman and I think she would have loved the stir it has caused.”

Lizzy Bassham, owner of the cafe Lizzy’s on the Green.
Lizzy Bassham, owner of Lizzy’s on the Green, said the park had become a tourist attraction … ‘it has a buzz’. Photograph: Jill Mead/The Guardian

The sculpture is the work of an artist who is no stranger to public art controversies – her Scallop tribute to Benjamin Britten, on Aldeburgh beach, and to Oscar Wilde, in central London, were similarly divisive.

The Mary Wollstonecraft work is meant to personify a spirit, the naked everywoman emerging from a swirl of female forms. To put clothes on her would have given her an identity, Hambling says.

The naked figure appears to be the biggest problem for most passersby stopped by the Guardian. “I like it visually … I think it’s cool,” said Celia Marr, a lawyer. “I just find the nakedness jarring. I don’t understand why it was necessary for her to include a naked female form for a feminist icon.”

Katie Doyle, a cybersecurity consultant, voiced similar concerns. “I don’t really get the lady at the top if it’s all about women and empowering women … I don’t get why she’s naked.”

For Will McDonald, who works in consultancy, it was great that Wollstonecraft was being commemorated in the area he lives. “But I do think it’s a bit weird.”



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