The Seated Witch and the Divine Feminine: Embracing and Empowering Women

A witch figure in a seated position is a popular representation of witches in folklore and popular culture. This figure typically depicts a witch sitting on a chair or stool, often with a broomstick or cauldron nearby. The seated position can symbolize the witch's power and knowledge, as witches are often portrayed as wise and experienced individuals. In many depictions, the witch figure in a seated position is shown wearing a long robe or cloak, with a pointed hat and a broomstick at her side. Her face is often depicted as old and wrinkled, with a crooked nose and a sinister expression. This imagery has become iconic in popular culture, associated with witches and the supernatural.

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.

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.

This imagery has become iconic in popular culture, associated with witches and the supernatural. The seated position of the witch figure may also symbolize a sense of authority and control. In folklore and mythology, witches are often portrayed as powerful beings with the ability to cast spells and perform magic.

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.

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.”

By depicting the witch in a seated position, artists and storytellers emphasize her position of power and control, as she is able to command the forces of nature and bend them to her will. Additionally, the seated position of the witch figure can also convey a sense of mystery and secrecy. By sitting, the witch is often depicted as observing the world around her and carefully contemplating her next actions. This adds to the enigmatic aura surrounding witches and their magical abilities. In conclusion, the witch figure in a seated position is a common representation of witches in folklore and popular culture. The seated position symbolizes power, knowledge, authority, and mystery associated with witches. This imagery has become iconic and continues to captivate audiences, further cementing the enduring fascination with witches in our collective imagination..

Reviews for "Witches in Art: Celebrating and Decoding the Seated Witch"

1. Emily Smith - 2 stars - I was really disappointed with the "Witch figure in a seated position". The craftsmanship was poor, with visible seams and rough edges. The paint job was also messy with smudges and uneven coloring. The overall design lacked creativity and seemed generic. I expected better quality for the price I paid. I do not recommend this figure.

2. John Thompson - 1 star - The "Witch figure in a seated position" was a complete letdown. The material used felt cheap and flimsy, making the figure seem more like a toy than a collectible. The pose was uninteresting and lacked any sense of dynamism. Additionally, the facial expression was poorly executed, giving the witch an awkward and unnatural look. Overall, I was highly dissatisfied with this purchase.

3. Sarah Johnson - 2 stars - I bought the "Witch figure in a seated position" expecting a detailed and intricate piece, but I was left unimpressed. The figure lacked the finer details that would have made it visually appealing. The proportions were off, making the witch appear stumpy and disproportionate. The paintwork was sloppy, with noticeable smudges and a lack of attention to detail, especially in the facial features. I wouldn't recommend this figure to serious collectors.

4. Michael Carter - 1 star - The "Witch figure in a seated position" was a complete waste of money. The quality was extremely poor, with visible mold lines and rough patches on the surface of the figure. The paintjob looked rushed, with streaks and inaccuracies. The pose and overall design were uninteresting and uninspiring. I regretted purchasing this figure as soon as I received it. Save your money and look elsewhere for a better option.

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