Can a Podcast Resurrect Centuries of Overlooked Women Artists?
The Power of Voice in Visual Histories
In a world oversaturated with visual content, it is the audio form—specifically the podcast—that is quietly revolutionizing how we remember, learn, and engage with women in art. For centuries, women artists have been marginalized, misattributed, or forgotten entirely by traditional art institutions and historical narratives. The names Artemisia Gentileschi, Hilma af Klint, or even Georgia O’Keeffe were once ghosted from textbooks or placed in footnotes, while countless others were never recorded at all.
Enter @thegreatwomenartists, a podcast founded by curator and art historian Katy Hessel, which has become a cultural force in redefining how art history is told. This auditory platform doesn’t just recount facts—it resurrects stories, connects eras, and weaves contemporary relevance into centuries-old legacies. By interviewing living artists like Bharti Kher, Lubaina Himid, or Tracey Emin while simultaneously spotlighting historic figures, the podcast forms a cross-generational dialogue that institutions have largely failed to curate.
This journal examines how podcasting—and platforms like @thegreatwomenartists specifically—can act as a subversive tool for rewriting art history from a feminist perspective. We explore how these digital archives of voice enable a new fellowship across time and space, bringing women artists from various cultures and eras into a shared, resonant lineage.

Rebuilding the Canon—One Episode at a Time
Audio as Resistance: Replacing Silence with Sound
The historical silencing of women in art is not metaphorical. It was real, deliberate, and systemic. Women were denied access to formal training, refused entry into academies, and often barred from signing their own works. Silence, both literal and archival, defined their legacy.
Podcasts challenge that legacy not through spectacle but through steady, persistent storytelling. In interviews with living artists like Bharti Kher, listeners hear not just theory but voice, intention, and lived experience. In episodes discussing Sofonisba Anguissola or Clara Peeters, forgotten brushstrokes are revived through narrative. This is counter-history in its purest form: accessible, shareable, intimate.
Cross-Era Storytelling: Building a Feminist Time Machine
When Bharti Kher speaks of hybridity, materiality, and myth in her Delhi-based practice, her words echo the themes found in historical women artists like Leonora Carrington or Frida Kahlo. These aren’t disconnected episodes—they are woven into a broader feminist continuum.
Podcasts enable this weaving. Unlike academic texts or static exhibitions, they flow freely between time periods. An episode on Gentileschi’s baroque violence can be queued right after an episode with contemporary painter Celia Paul. This fluidity allows for a collapsing of time that builds continuity—a radical act in a historical structure that thrives on fragmentation.
Globalizing the Feminist Narrative
Art history has long been Western-centric, often fixated on a narrow European male canon. Platforms like @thegreatwomenartists actively diversify this scope by spotlighting artists from Latin America, South Asia, Africa, and the diaspora. The inclusion of Bharti Kher—a British-Indian artist working in Delhi—embodies this shift.
Kher’s work, which combines sculpture, painting, and found objects, interrogates femininity, mythology, and post-colonial identity. When discussed on a podcast that also explores the work of Käthe Kollwitz or Louise Bourgeois, it becomes clear: the feminist art narrative is no longer Euro-American. It is plural, multilingual, and transnational.
Breaking the Gatekeeping Model
One of the most radical aspects of podcast-driven art history is its accessibility. You don’t need museum admission, a degree, or even a gallery in your city. Anyone with a smartphone can enter the discourse. This erodes traditional gatekeeping mechanisms that have historically excluded women artists from visibility.
Moreover, podcasts offer artists and curators unfiltered space to speak in their own voices. Unlike gallery wall texts or auction house write-ups, podcast interviews are conversational, raw, and often deeply personal. This intimacy creates a new kind of archive—less about interpretation and more about presence.
Digital Sisterhood: Fellowship Across Centuries
Podcasts don’t just tell stories—they foster communities. Listeners become advocates. Artists find lineage. Forgotten names are revived and newly contextualized. The feminist podcast becomes a form of collective art-making, one where the medium is the message, and the message is reclamation.
This digital sisterhood bridges Artemisia Gentileschi’s 17th-century studio with Bharti Kher’s 21st-century practice. It creates space for mutual recognition: that the struggles, insights, and innovations of women artists—past and present—are connected, not isolated.

The Art World Is Listening—But What Comes Next?
The feminist podcast, in its purest form, does more than educate. It agitates. It reshapes. And in the case of @thegreatwomenartists, it constructs an entirely new canon—one that isn’t built on exclusions, but on intersections.
Yet the question remains: what happens after the episode ends? Will museums, curators, and collectors act on these narratives? Will Bharti Kher’s name appear not just on airwaves but in syllabi, acquisitions, and retrospectives alongside Gentileschi and O’Keeffe?
To truly resurrect centuries of overlooked women artists, the art world must go beyond listening. It must institutionalize this knowledge. Podcasts are an entry point, a spark—but they must lead to deeper structural change: equitable representation in collections, inclusive scholarship, and sustained public visibility.
Esther Mahlangu, Bharti Kher, Artemisia Gentileschi—they are not exceptions. They are signals. Their stories, when told in their own voices, through platforms they control, become catalysts for rewriting art history.
The future of feminist art history may not be hung on walls—it may be spoken, streamed, and archived in earbuds. But its power lies in how we act on what we hear.
So yes—a podcast can resurrect centuries of overlooked women artists. But only if we are brave enough to treat it not as entertainment, but as a call to revision, recognition, and revolution.
