MUNTHE ART MONDAY CAROLINE HAHN
Please introduce yourself and tell us about what you do .
My name is Caroline Hahn and I am a professional painter working in Grand Rapids, Michigan. As an artist, I am passionated about communicating ideas that are deeply rooted in the natural, human and spiritual elements of the environments that we find both without us and within us.
Caroline is wearing Tupper knit.
Can you explain more about how being a woman has affected your career
Being a woman has had a complex impact on my career. After graduating from college with a degree in painting, I found myself working in the male-dominated field of film production as an editor, animator, and production assistant. In those early years, I consciously suppressed my femininity, believing it would help me fit in, gain respect, and be taken seriously by my colleagues. A few years later, when my husband and I were expecting our first daughter, the biological realities of pregnancy—and the inevitable absence it would bring—became impossible to ignore, especially by my male colleagues. Throughout my pregnancy, I made serious plans to continue working after the birth, both because I loved my work and because I wanted to prove to the men, I worked with that I was serious, driven, and capable of balancing both. However, when the time finally came, I had an epiphany. I realized that I was entirely replaceable at my job, but I was irreplaceable to my daughter, and I was irreplaceable as an artist—no one else would create the art I so desperately wanted to see in the world. Quitting my job and embracing motherhood became the catalysts for my true calling as a painter—a lifelong passion that had always been with me. Having lived through the joys and challenges that are inseparable from the female experience, I finally found the courage to embrace my own femininity, motherhood, and, ultimately, my art.
What has been the most challenging aspect of being a woman in the arts
One of the most challenging aspects of being a woman in the arts has been remaining keenly aware of the historical representation (or lack thereof) of the female form and identity in art. I've always wanted to be an artist, and I remember being very young, flipping through art books filled with some of the world's most famous paintings, and feeling acutely aware of how differently the men and women in those works were portrayed. For centuries, the women in art have so often been depicted through the lens of male desire, with little regard for their autonomy or complexity as human beings. As a female artist, I feel an inherent responsibility to reclaim the narrative, and to represent the female form not as an object but as a powerful, mysterious, and multifaceted subject. By reclaiming the female form and representing it from a place of intimate understanding, I hope to contribute to the broader conversation about how women are seen in art—and in the world. While this work is challenging, it’s also deeply empowering to be part of the movement of female artists rewriting these narratives and showing women as they truly are—complex, unapologetically human, and unapologetically female.
Caroline is wearing Tupper knit.
Caroline is wearing Sakira knit.
Can you name another female artist that inspires you and explain why they do
Another passion of mine is Art History, a field in which I am deeply aware of the persistent issue of female exclusion from the art historical canon. In all 16 editions of the widely recognized The Story of Art by E.H. Gombrich, only one female artist has ever been included. So many inspiring women artists are simply not given the recognition they deserve, excluded from both art history curricula and museum representation. In the spirit of bringing these women into the light, I refuse to name just one. Artists such as Plautilla Nelli, Sofonisba Anguissola, Judith Leyster, Artemisia Gentileschi, Angelica Kauffman, Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun, Mary Cassatt, Evelyn De Morgan, Leonora Carrington, Suzanne Valadon, Käthe Kollwitz, Tamara de Lempicka, and Gwen John—just to name a few—faced immense odds. They dealt with expectations of domestication, their talents often dismissed, and faced barriers to art education, materials, mentorship, and patrons. Many of these women weren’t even allowed inside art academies or similar spaces. Despite these challenges, they were all self-made artists, and I have learned so much from their stories. Artemisia Gentileschi taught me the virtue of ‘the hustle’: she would create hundreds of paintings and send them unsolicited (and for free) to potential patrons—an entrepreneurial effort that ultimately led to success. Through her art and writing, Leonora Carrington taught me the exquisite intricacies and sublime darkness of the feminine unconscious. Mary Cassatt revealed the quiet beauty and tenderness of motherhood,
while Käthe Kollwitz made me aware of the profound sorrow of a mother and the fierce instinct of feminine protection. I am inspired by these women, and by all female artists, because they carved paths for themselves when none existed. Even with the freedoms we enjoy today, female artists still face centuries of systematic exclusion, disregard, and erasure—a reality that is not so easily undone.
What would you like people to notice in your artwork
What I want people to notice most in my work is the sense of mystery I’m striving to cultivate. In a world where every corner of the map is charted, answers to any question are available within seconds, and most experiences are clinically curated for maximum enjoyment, everything is starting to feel very two-dimensional. Some of the most memorable moments of my childhood—and the most poignant moments of my life—were unexpected, filled with a deep sense of mystery and awe. My hope is that these paintings will evoke the same feelings you had as a child, when the world felt vast and full of possibility, mystery, and wonder.
Caroline is wearing Sakira knit.
