''Barbie is such an enigma in a certain way. I think when you have something that's so strongly representative of mainstream ideology, you're bound to have a counter-cultural backlash,'' explains Milwaukee-based performance artist Elizabeth Whitney.
''I think Barbie is the epitome of that,'' she continues.
Whitney, who holds a Ph.D in performance studies from Southern Illinois University, will perform ''Pop Culture Princess'' Saturday evening at the Athens Institute for Contemporary Art as part of the gallery's ''Lesbian Emergences'' exhibit.
A three-part performance monologue, ''Pop Culture Princess'' includes readings from Whitney's adolescent diaries, an analysis of her childhood obsession with Wonder Woman and ''Domination Barbie,'' a comically deviant self-evaluation of Barbie as an anti-feminist role model.
''Barbie also lends herself as a tool for imagination for other possibilities,'' continues Whitney. ''Which is one of the things my piece is about - how can you take something so mainstream and turn it into a subversive vehicle?''
Featuring artwork from 14 lesbian artists from Athens and throughout Georgia, New England and Alabama, ''Lesbian Emergences'' was curated by University of Georgia art history undergraduate Sarah Harbin.
''I was interested in what makes lesbians assimilate into some kind of community or style or aesthetic - or not assimilate,'' explains Harbin of the motive behind the exhibition. ''We chose these particular works because it was the broadest way we could capture that mentality.''
Whitney is not the only artist participating in the show who has turned to Barbie as an outlet for sexual expression. Athens' Edwina Arey's photo series, ''Barbie Finds Herself'' is a series of black-and-white close-ups of Barbie and her crew-cut twin in a variety of compromising positions. The blatant eroticism of such images is effectively sterilized by the reality of the dolls' artificial, exaggerated and barren bodies.
Such eroticism is definitely conspicuous in photos by both Grant Tatum and Steph Furness, who capture live models in various states of pleasure and undress.
Liena Vayzman's photos, ''Your Exposure is My Release,'' feature close-up, soft-focused images of unbuttoned clothing, providing for a successfully subtle allure.
The exhibit goes far beyond the physiological realities of a lesbian existence. Susan Jarvis' lush pastels include a heroic portrait of a butch young woman set against traditionally masculine characters such as a knight in shining armor and toy soldiers, suggesting the traditional feminine fairy tale fantasy is not necessarily lost in lesbianism.
Shelly Ford's dark and austere oversized pastels feature faceless, androgynous outlines of figures, bold arrows and pointing fingers, illustrating the emotions of isolation and outcast that often arise when an individual awakens to his or her gay sexuality.
Emily Lombardo's ''Welcome Home,'' juxtaposes silk-screened images of affection and domesticity with transcriptions from anti-gay legislation and public figures such as Pat Robertson and Jesse Helms, proof-of-fact that much of America is still unable to see through hate-filled rhetoric and recognize the compassion, comfort and affection of non-traditional relationships.
Many agree that recent years have seen great forward strides in the acceptance of gay culture.
''I think there is a lot more acceptance, you see a lot more representations in movies and on television,'' says Whitney pointing out the mainstream portrayal of homosexuality frequently whitewashes gay lifestyles.
''But I think they're also kind of assimilation models - white middle class happy nuclear family models. It's not that there aren't gay and lesbian people like that. ... But it kind of ignores the fact there is a strong queer movement out there that says to be queer isn't to be just like everyone else, it's to be something different.''