In case One Hundred Lavish Months of Bushwack didn’t make this clear for you: there’s not much Wangechi Mutu won’t paint. 

But that doesn’t mean she’s always comfortable with what she chooses; she’s said before in interviews that she’s drawn to creating work out of “things that are hard to view”: the grotesque, the absurd, and, occasionally, the monstrous.  Several of her pieces use a collage-like style to draw together different images of female bodies in sexualized contexts— see the bright pink lipstick and stiletto heel that our bushwacking girl wears, even as she tries to make her way through the wilderness.

The stiletto in particular strikes quite the juxtaposition with the figure’s athletic pose since, as any femme-dressing person can tell you, heels in the wilderness aren’t gonna get you far. Heels on the sidewalk can barely get you far. To quote the always stellar Fiona Apple— those are “shoes that were not made for running up that hill.” Or through that bush. Same difference.

Whether it’s stilettos, pornography, or the male gaze, the power of sexualization to restrain and even maim female bodies— especially Black bodies— is a theme Mutu explores throughout their work. You’ll find gore scattered throughout this painting— like the blood spurting from our leading lady’s head, or the tendon dangling from her foot. You’ll also find a ton of tiny motorcycles, which makes more sense when you know a bit more of Mutu’s story. 

Mutu took up a residency at Art Pace in the early 2000s and hung around San Antonio for the next few years. During her time there, surrounded by gun stores, militarism, and a thoroughly “Don’t Mess With Texas” attitude, she became intrigued with masculine iconography and decided to conduct a personal exploration, buying motorcycles and thumbing through the pages of hunting magazines, seeking to explore the way women were portrayed in these male-dominant media. The influence of those sources can clearly be seen in this piece, particularly in the series of small motorcycles that appear to be weighing down the painting’s key figure, ball-and-chain style. The painting as a whole also feels like it wouldn’t be out of place in a hunting magazine--with her wide eyes, open mouth, and general Bambi’s-mom-in-her-final-moments demeanor, it seems clear that our key figure is set as prey for some unseen predator.