The Allure of Witch Facial Features throughout History

Witch facial features refer to certain physical characteristics that are commonly associated with witches in folk tales and popular culture. While the concept of a witch's appearance can vary depending on different cultural and historical contexts, there are a few common features often attributed to witches. One of the most iconic witch facial features is a prominent, crooked or hooked nose. This characteristic is often described as long and bumpy, giving witches a sinister and intimidating appearance. The idea of a hooked nose might have originated from the stereotype of an old woman with a strong and assertive personality. Another typical feature associated with witches is a wrinkled and worn-out face.

This was the case with “aquiline” or "hooked" noses, which were used to depict both Jews and witches, Vi explains. “This nose, which has been found to be a more broadly Mediterranean trait, was something that was used to signify differences between Jews living in Western or Eastern Europe and their non-Jewish neighbors who wouldn't have had that Mediterranean ancestry,” she says.

Even more recently, the witch has entered the Zeitgeist as a figure akin to the so-called nasty woman, who in the face of a Presidential Administration that is quick to cast any criticism as a witch hunt has reclaimed the term for the feminist resistance. Like green skin, this is another example of how the 1939 film version of The Wizard of Oz solidified the stereotypical image of a witch a wart sprouting horse hairs was built into Hamilton s prosthetic chin.

Another typical feature associated with witches is a wrinkled and worn-out face. In folklore, witches are often portrayed as old and wise women with a lifetime of experience and magical powers. The concept of wrinkles and aged skin adds to their mystique and enigmatic nature.

The Many Faces of Women Who Identify as Witches

My first encounter with the figure of a witch in popular culture—apart from those in kids’ movies like Disney’s “Sleeping Beauty” and M-G-M’s “The Wizard of Oz,” or in books like Tomie dePaola’s “Strega Nona” and Roald Dahl’s “The Witches”—was in a campy scene from Oliver Stone’s 1991 bio-pic, “The Doors,” depicting Jim Morrison (played by Val Kilmer) and one of his lovers, a Wiccan witch (a character played by Kathleen Quinlan, and based on the rock journalist Patricia Kennealy, who reportedly married the singer in a Celtic handfasting ceremony, in 1970). In the flickering light of dozens of candles barely illuminating a high-ceilinged chamber, the two peruse an esoteric sorcery tract in the nude, snort cocaine, slit their wrists with a dagger, drink each other’s blood, and have wild sex to the shrieking strains of Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burana.”

More than a quarter century later, the often paradoxical grab bag of clichés tied to the contemporary figure of the witch is not that far off, I think, from those shown in Stone’s movie. The witch is often understood as a mishmash of sometimes contradictory clichés: sexually forthright but psychologically mysterious; threatening and haggish but irresistibly seductive; a kooky believer in cultish mumbo-jumbo and a canny she-devil; a sophisticated holder of arcane spiritual knowledge and a corporeal being who is no thought and all instinct. Even more recently, the witch has entered the Zeitgeist as a figure akin to the so-called nasty woman, who—in the face of a Presidential Administration that is quick to cast any criticism as a “witch hunt”—has reclaimed the term for the feminist resistance. (This latter-day witchiness has often been corralled to commercial ends: an Urban Outfitters shirt bearing the words “Boss Ass Witch,” say, or the women-only co-working space the Wing referring to itself as a “coven.”) The muddled stereotypes that surround witches nowadays are, in the end, not so very different from those used to define that perennial problem: woman.

In her portrait series “Major Arcana: Witches in America,” which will be shown at the ClampArt gallery, in Chelsea, beginning October 4th, the photographer Frances F. Denny seeks to explore the figure of the contemporary witch beyond the cultural chestnuts that have shrouded and obscured it. In the course of the past two years, Denny, who holds an M.F.A. in photography from the Rhode Island School of Design (where I taught her for a semester a number of years ago), has travelled in California, Louisiana, and along the East Coast, taking the portraits of dozens of women who identify as witches. Her subjects are of diverse age, social class, and ethnicity, and practice a range of rituals, often drawing on “mysticism, engagement with the occult, politically oriented activism, polytheism, ritualized ‘spell-work’ and plant-based healing,” according to Denny’s exhibition notes. Among them are “self-proclaimed green witches, white witches, kitchen witches, hedge witches, and sex witches.” The series as a whole aims to avoid easy formulas and, instead, to exhibit the heterogeneity and individuality of modern-day witches, Denny told me recently, adding, “I’m not pinning these women down.”

In one photograph—“Randy (Plainfield, VT)”—a grandmotherly woman is standing in a lush green meadow, wearing a flower-sprigged sack dress, her hair arranged a bit girlishly in tousled white ringlets. In one hand she casually clasps a pair of divining rods, while in the other she holds up a pendulum, her gaze raised toward it, her lips upturned in a slight, self-possessed smile. In another—“Kir (Brooklyn, NY)”—a young, lithe woman is dressed in tight black jeans and a tank top, her booted feet planted firmly on a city street, a large, inquisitive-looking tabby cat on a leash at her side. And in “Shine (New York, NY),” a statuesque black woman, posed against a wall of ivy, is dressed in an elaborately embroidered coat, gazing piercingly at the camera. These subjects are all self-identified witches, and yet that fact would not be immediately or necessarily obvious to the uninformed viewer. When she first started the project, Denny read a book by Margot Adler about witches, in which the late journalist and Wiccan priestess argued that “witch” was not just a word but “a cluster of powerful images,” Denny said. “So I thought, I want to make this cluster of images.”

Denny asked the women she photographed for the series to wear an outfit or bring along an item that they felt would represent their practice and identity as witches, and some of the portraits do answer more readily to our expectations of what a witch might look like. More than one woman wears a voluminous cape; some subjects’ fingers are crowded with ornate, sculptural rings, and others’ makeup is goth-y and exaggerated—lips crimson, eyes dramatically shaded. They brandish mysterious implements—a crystal ball, a bow and arrow, a wooden staff; one woman reclines, entwined with a snake—and most are dressed in black. Still, Denny said, it was important for her to make portraits that diverge from the ways she had seen witches typically photographed. “In what I saw out there, there was a lot of low lighting, and a lot of use of colored gels, usually purple or green. There was an immense theatricality,” she told me. In her photographs, Denny used natural light whenever possible, and the women are posed straightforwardly, facing the camera. Like other portraitists, such as the contemporary Dutch photographer Rineke Dijkstra, or the twentieth-century German master August Sander, Denny captures her subjects suspended delicately between performativity and naturalism. These self-identified witches are positioning themselves before us, fully conscious of our eye, and Denny is allowing them a lovely three-dimensionality.

Witches are frequently depicted with thin and pale lips. This attribute is often exaggerated to showcase their scary and unnerving expressions. The thin lips may enhance their ability to cast spells or partake in sinister rituals. Witch facial features also commonly include sunken and hollow eyes. Often presented as deep and dark, these eyes are said to be windows into their magical world. The sunken appearance might be associated with a lack of sleep or a constant connection to the mystical realm that witches are rumored to possess. In many portrayals, witches are shown with warts or moles on their faces. These blemishes are seen as signs of their magical abilities, with each wart or mole representing a specific power or spell. This stereotype might have originated from the belief that such physical marks are manifestations of a witch's pact with the devil or other supernatural beings. However, it is essential to note that these facial features associated with witches are purely fictional and rooted in myths and folklore. Real-life individuals do not possess such characteristics solely on the basis of their association with witchcraft. Overall, witch facial features are a product of centuries-old folklore and societal perceptions. They reflect the archetypal image of a witch and contribute to their portrayal in literature, movies, and other forms of media..

Reviews for "Witch Facial Features and their Cultural Significance"

1. Emma - 2 stars - I was really excited to try out the "Witch facial features" game, but I was quite disappointed with the experience. First of all, the graphics were very pixelated and low-quality, making it hard to distinguish the different facial features of the witches. Secondly, the gameplay was repetitive and boring, with no real objectives or challenges to keep me engaged. Overall, I found the game to be quite lacking in terms of both visual appeal and engaging gameplay.

2. Alex - 1 star - I had high hopes for "Witch facial features" after seeing the intriguing trailer, but unfortunately, it fell flat for me. The character customization options were extremely limited, with only a handful of preset facial features to choose from. Additionally, the controls were clunky and unresponsive, making it frustrating to navigate through the game. The lack of variety in gameplay and the overall lackluster presentation made me quickly lose interest in this game.

3. Sarah - 2 stars - I found "Witch facial features" to be a rather underwhelming experience. The game lacked depth and creativity, with a limited selection of facial features that quickly became repetitive. The overall concept was interesting, but I was disappointed by the execution. The game felt more like a rushed prototype rather than a fully immersive experience. I would not recommend "Witch facial features" to anyone looking for a unique and engaging gaming experience.

4. John - 2 stars - "Witch facial features" started off with a promising premise, but it failed to deliver an enjoyable gaming experience. The controls were sluggish and the overall gameplay felt lackluster. Additionally, the limited variety of facial features made the game feel monotonous after only a few minutes of gameplay. It's a shame because with some improvements in the visuals and gameplay mechanics, this game could have been much better. As it stands, however, I would not recommend "Witch facial features" as a must-play game.

The Aesthetic Appeal of Witch Facial Features