Barbara Hammer: Putting Her Body on Cinema’s Frontlines
THE AUDITORIUM WAS PACKED, the atmosphere tense. The occasion was a panel on censorship at the Canadian Images Film Festival, which took place after the screening of several short works, including a sexually explicit piece by Barbara Hammer. The film, like many of her earliest works, featured the filmmaker herself.
The event took place in 1983 at Trent University just as the socalled sex wars were about to create a deep schism between anti-pornography feminists like myself and those who called themselves pro-sex. I was on the frontlines of that debate, already alienating small-L liberals and filmmakers and artists who were hostile to the argument that absolutist free speech points of view might operate against the interests of women.
I don’t remember the title of Hammer’s film or who presented the anti-censorship position that day. I do recall that I was unbending in my belief, as was most of the audience, including my anti-censorship antagonist on the panel. When it came time for Hammer to speak third, she sat silent for several seconds and deadpanned, “I don’t know. I’m just recovering from seeing my vulva on a huge screen.”
It was a candid response that cut through the two opposing arguments to give weight to both sides. Yes, she did feel vulnerable as the subject of a sex film and the viewers’ collective gaze, but she was determined to author her own sexual works as
