Cindy Sherman
[Artist, b. 1954, Glen Ridge, New Jersey, lives in New York.]

 I want that choked-up feeling in your throat which maybe comes from despair or teary-eyed sentimentality: conveying intangible emotions. 
 I think of becoming a different person. I look into a mirror next to the camera... it’s trancelike. By staring into it I try to become that character through the lens... When I see what I want, my intuition takes over. 
 The work is what it is and hopefully it’s seen as feminist work, or feminist-informed work, but I’m not going to go around espousing theoretical bullshit about feminist stuff. 
 I didn’t care much about the print quality. The photographs were supposed to look like they cost fifty cents. 
 I would read theoretical stuff about my work and think, “What? Where did they get that?” The work was so intuitive for me, I didn’t know where it was coming from. So I thought I had better not say anything or I’d blow it. 
 ....I didn’t really have ideas of what I wanted to do with painting. That was when I thought, “Why am I wasting my time elaborately copying things when I could use a camera?” 
 To pick a character like that was about my own ambivalence about sexuality—growing up with the women role models that I had, and a lot of them in films, that were like that character, and yet you were supposed to be a good girl. 
 Everyone thinks [that my photographs] are self-portraits, but they are not meant to be. If I photograph myself it’s because I can push my own limits to the extreme. I can make from each shot a work as heavy, as clumsy or as stupid as I want. 
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