Proving. Art.

Written By Francie Cohen

By: Francie Cohen

Proving- Francie Cohen

As a young woman carving a space in the art world, I, like many emerging female artists, navigate the relentless push for exposure, validation, and fleeting success. We sell our art, but more than that, we sell fragments of ourselves. The process demands a surrender so deep that it can feel indistinguishable from selling one’s own existence. For women especially, the stakes are sharper, the cost heavier. Every female artist I have spoken to acknowledges this imbalance—this unspoken yet omnipresent weight.

This weight is not just anecdotal but quantifiable. In the U.S., women make up 51% of visual artists, yet their work accounts for only 13% of art in major museum collections (Kennedy, 2019). In auction sales, the gap is even wider—between 2008 and 2019, work by women represented only 2% of the global art market (Halperin and Burns, 2019). These statistics highlight the systemic nature of the struggle that female artists face in gaining recognition and financial stability.

My focus is on female-identifying emerging artists, particularly those based at The New School and in the broader New York City area. These artists are often in their early-to-mid twenties, navigating the transition from student to professional while dealing with the systemic barriers of the art world. Many come from diverse cultural backgrounds, bringing perspectives shaped by their individual histories and identities.

I have felt this firsthand—the expectation to justify my presence, to intellectualize my work rather than let it exist on its own terms. A classmate explored this in her art, striking a nerve. She examined the constant demand for artists to validate their work, drawing from Christine Sun Kim’s All Day, All Night, where a pie chart humorously breaks down the frustrations of being Deaf—specifically, the microaggressions hearing people commit without realizing (Kim, 2017). My classmate’s work mirrored this unseen labor, the exhausting cycle of proving that what we create is worth existing.

We spend so much time justifying that the raw essence of creation is lost. It is as if art holds no value unless accompanied by an elaborate theoretical framework. Why must every piece bear a burden of meaning to be legitimate? Why can’t art simply be?

At The New School, our work is endlessly dissected, questioned, and analyzed—expected to justify itself through ethos, context, and theory. While critique is valuable, by my fourth year, it feels overplayed. Conversations about meaning overshadow the act of making. I have spoken to students across different years who feel the same: the emphasis should be on creation, not endless explanation. Yet, true creative freedom seems reserved for those who have already "made it"—those who no longer have to defend every brushstroke.

Even beyond academia, this expectation persists. The art world thrives on justification, demanding intellectual frameworks to legitimize what should already be valid. In this relentless scrutiny, art suffocates. A 2007 meta-analysis on gender differences in grant peer review found that men have statistically significant greater odds of receiving grants than women by about 7% (Bornmann et al., 2007). The system itself is designed to privilege certain voices over others, reinforcing the cycle of validation and exclusion.

A desire-based framework operates here by shifting the focus from the struggles and barriers of female artists to their creative power, resilience, and community-building. Rather than centering only on the injustices, it highlights the ways in which these artists carve out spaces of support, experimentation, and expression despite the challenges they face.

Additionally, my research connects with existing non-profit organizations that support young female creatives, such as the National Museum of Women in the Arts, Women’s Studio Workshop, and ArtTable. These organizations provide funding, residencies, and mentorship, yet their reach is still limited compared to the institutional advantages male artists often enjoy. Collaborating with such organizations could strengthen networks of support, ensuring that emerging female artists receive the recognition and resources they need.

And yet, I continue to create. I present my work in the way I want to, without expectation, without bending to the pressures of impressing others. But the world does not make this easy.

At every show, one question is inevitable: “What does this piece mean?” My usual response? “I could give you a bullshit answer, but…” The ones who truly see always laugh and say, REAL.

Because it is real. Because meaning is not always something we need to articulate in words. Sometimes, art speaks in a language beyond explanation. And yet, in a market that thrives on commodification, I find myself caught—tempted to package meaning for those who can afford to buy, to validate, to consume. And worse, I know that as a woman in this space, my body, too, is often part of the unspoken transaction.

The question, then, is not just about art. It is about survival, integrity, and the quiet rebellion of creating without apology.

Works Cited:






Francie Cohen
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