The author asks why Paula Rego’s open portrayal of abortion is still so rare in the art world.
By Eloise Hendy
PhD Researcher
University of Sussex
A young woman looks at you. Her jaw is clenched. A bandana the colour of blood pulls her hair back. Her hands clutch her thighs, holding her legs apart. Underneath the bed is a plastic bucket, and perched next to her is a bowl with a golden rim—the kind you might use to beat eggs into soft peaks.
Another woman doesn’t look at you. Her head is thrown back, jaw lifted skyward. Her midriff is exposed; her legs are bare and thrown apart. Glancing at her quickly, she could be in ecstasy. But her hands are clenched, and a watch lies face up on the floor next to a bundled sheet. Both these women are in the throes of abortions.
Paula Rego’s Abortion Pastels are powerful portrayals of a process that largely remains concealed and shrouded in stigma. Created in response to Portugal’s 1998 referendum on abortion (which, with a turnout of just 32%, maintained it was only allowed in exceptional cases, such as rape and extreme risk to the woman’s life), Rego’s portraits pull back the curtain on illegal abortions. She forces the viewer to bear witness to the “backstreet solutions” women are forced into when left with no alternative choice.