The Art of Freedom: Reclaiming the Nude Beyond Sexualization

Pablo Picasso, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, 1907 on view at the MoMA in New York
Last summer, while walking through Central Park, I noticed something or rather noticed something lacking. I watched a male runner jogged past me, shirtless. It did not even cross my mind to find that strange, or something to be embarrassed about. As a female, I would likely never know that kind of freedom. Yes, technically everybody can go topless in New York City—it’s been legal since 1992—but it’s not the same. Even during events like August’s “Go Topless Day,” the atmosphere is heavy with gawking, judgment, and the pervasive sexualization of women’s bodies. What I mean is that men don’t second-guess this freedom; for many, it’s just an option. For women, it’s a negotiation—one layered with societal baggage and the lingering effects of being objectified. This experience got me thinking about the broader context of the nude in art and its evolution. How did we arrive at our current understanding, and is there room to depict the human body free from sexual connotations? The female nude has long been a central subject in art, celebrated as a pinnacle of artistic achievement. However, much of this history is told through a distinctly male lens. This was because historically, women were not allowed to paint nudes, let alone walk outside without a chaperone.  With many restrictions, female artists had limited topics and spaces where they could paint, such as still life. So the nude became reduced to male fantasies—exotic, idealized, and far removed from reality. Art’s role in shaping cultural narratives cannot be overstated. Edward Said’s Orientalism (as mentioned in my previous post) offers a lens through which we can understand how art perpetuates power dynamics. During the height of French colonialism, artists like Jean Leon Gérôme produced works like Pool in a Harem, 1875 that exoticized and fetishized Middle Eastern and North African cultures. Paintings such as these, fuel the colonialist narrative of the “primitive other”.
Jean-Léon Gérôme, Pool in a Harem, 1875

Similarly, the depiction of women as mythical, unattainable figures served to distance them from reality. With the movement of Realism and Modernist art, painters such as Gustave Courbet, and Édouard Manet started challenging the norm by depicting women instead of the goddess female. Manet’s, Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe, 1862-1863 is an example of such. Here was a nude that wasn’t mythical but unapologetically real. Manet’s muse, Victorine Meurant (who is an incredible artist in her own right) stares directly at the viewer, her clothes casually discarded. She’s not an idealized Venus but a woman, present and aware of her own power. This work marked a turning point, challenging audiences to reconsider the meaning of the nude.

Édouard Manet, Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe, 1862-1863

**Click on the image to see Google Arts & Culture version where you can see an extreme closeup. Spoiler alert: It’s amazing!

But even with Manet, it remains from a male perspective. And for the most part, art history has been a boys’ club. Female perspectives were excluded/ignored, and so was the opportunity to depict women through their own gaze. 

Of course, every story has an exception, and it felt wrong not to pay homage to Francisco de Goya’s, La Maja desnuda, painted in 1790, which was likely to first time a female artist drew the nude with pubic hair signifying that she was a real person and not a mythical figure. 

Francisco de Goya, La Maja desnuda, 1790

Click image for a link to a closeup from the Museo Del Prado

It wasn’t until the early twentieth century, women were allowed to challenge this narrative and redefine how the nude was represented. Unfortunately, we still see the effects of this today, where only 16% of artists represented by galleries are women, and this figure only rises to 36% for “unestablished” artists.

Artists like Pan Yuliang, Alison Saar, Tracey Emins and Cecily Brown have been pivotal in this movement. They’ve pushed back against traditional portrayals, presenting bodies that are raw, and deeply human. These works create a space for viewers to engage with the body on new terms, free from the constraints of idealized beauty or overt sexualization. In doing so, they pave the way for a more inclusive and nuanced understanding of the nude.

The male-dominated art world has shaped the nude into a symbol of desire, leaving little room for interpretations that go beyond eroticism. Yet, despite these challenges, progress is being made. Female artists continue to reclaim the nude, creating works that celebrate the body in all its complexity. These depictions acknowledge the scars of history while striving for a future where the human form can be appreciated without judgment. They are reclaiming the nude as a space for exploration, empowerment, and identity.

So the question remains: can the nude ever be free of its historical baggage? Can we depict the body simply as it is, without the layers of societal indoctrination, sexualization, or trauma? I believe there is space for this evolution. The ideas are there, but the execution is my greatest struggle.