Everyone calls the Venus of Willendorf a fertility figure but I don’t think she is. I think she could be a menopause figure. Or a matriarch. Or maybe she’s just… a fat lady existing in peace. And why is that so hard for anyone to accept?
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Ancient Bloom The Venus of Willendorf
Everyone calls the Venus of Willendorf a fertility figure but I don’t think she is. I think she could be a menopause figure. Or a matriarch. Or maybe she’s just… a fat lady existing in peace. And why is that so hard for anyone to accept?
This body doesn’t automatically read as “fertility” to me. I, a 32-year-old, have that belly. Lots of women do. Especially women who’ve lived long enough to become elders or grandmothers. When I look at her, I don’t see a sexualized symbol. I see a matriarch of a family. I see someone who wants you fed and someone who comforts you when you’re sad. Someone who imparts knowledge to you. I see my mum.
Humans are one of the few mammals that live long beyond menopause. Orcas do it. Elephants too. In those matriarchal groups, older females become essential. They carry knowledge, memory, survival.
Why are/were archaeologists so obsessed with calling Willendorf a fertility figure in the first place? A lot of archaeology, especially early archaeology, was dominated by white men. And I can’t help but wonder how much that has influenced their interpretation. Why was the assumption immediately “fertility,” instead of wisdom, age, comfort, abundance, survival or simply womanhood?
Why are we even calling them VENUS figures? That title was created by modern archaeologists thousands of years after these sculptures were made, named after the Roman goddess of beauty and sexuality. But Willendorf existed long before Roman culture. So why are we framing her through that lens at all? Calling her a “Venus” already pushes us toward seeing her body as sexual or reproductive, instead of seeing age, wisdom, comfort, survival, or simply a woman existing in her body.
At Art Vancouver 2026
presenting Ancient Bloom
Sometimes though, I see me. A young woman, happy in her skin, loving her scars, appreciating the body she has - could it have been a self portrait? Because if you look down at your own body, especially without mirrors, this is kind of how I see myself. Breasts prominent. Belly rounded. Feet disappearing underneath you. The face less detailed because you can’t really see it from your own perspective.
Because then, it’s not about how a man saw a woman. It’s about how a woman saw herself. Maybe she wasn’t made for the male gaze at all. Maybe she wasn’t symbolic in the way modern academics want her to be. Maybe she was just loved. Like someone looked at an older woman, or any woman, and saw sacredness in her existence alone.
I hope that when I am old and have a body like this, I don’t hate the belly that kept me warm in the winter or the scars on a body that lived life to the fullest. I hope I can see myself with the same tenderness I see in her.
Ancient Bloom, and the print, is available in my shop. You will also receive this explanation with your purchase.
Everyone calls the Venus of Willendorf a fertility figure but I don’t think she is. Maybe she’s just… a fat lady existing in peace. And why is that so hard for anyone to accept?
Through colour, texture, and Māori symbolism, Whenua explores the idea that identity is never separate from land, ancestry, and the generations that came before us.