01: Crimes Against Women, Lala Rukh

Artist and activist Lala Rukh was a founding member of the Women’s Action Forum (1981, Pakistan). She was among fifteen women who publicly opposed General Zia-ul-Haq’s anti-women laws. Lala Rukh is regarded as a pioneer of feminist art and minimalist photographic practice in Pakistan, known for her pared-back drawings and quietly political imagery..

When government-controlled printers in Lahore refused to produce the Forum’s protest materials and newsletters, Rukh took matters into her own hands. She began screen printing—designing and producing many of the Women’s Action Forum’s bold and provocative posters calling for women’s rights and freedom.  Crimes Against Women originates from this powerful body of work.  This refusal to print feminist work still happens today - even in what we think of as free democracies.

The poster’s image is built from a collage of newspaper reports on crimes against women. By gathering these clippings into a single composition, the artist exposes the scale and pervasiveness of violence against women. It was likely assembled using newspaper, glue, and paint, then photographed before being printed as an offset lithograph for mass distribution — a popular technique from the 1960s onward.

02: Defaced Fiat Advertisement, Unknown

I selected this work because it operates on so many levels.

With women often having limited resources at their disposal, this response cuts through that constraint by wielding feminism’s most powerful tools — anger, urgency, and humour. It also underscores the vital role of the documenter: without Jill Posener’s photograph of this billboard, we might never have known it existed.

On her Instagram account, Jill writes:

“So, it’s the photo everyone loves. Sometimes I feel like a one hit wonder. But it’s ok, if this single image keeps inspiring people, then I accomplished something. Two women worked at a newspaper across the street from the billboard and when it went up, they were so outraged they decided to take action. One can see that there are two different handwritings in the graffiti. They have never wanted to be named publicly, but I am indebted to them!”

03: The Advantages of Being a Woman Artist, Guerilla Girls, Ridykeulous, XX

In 2022 - 2024, a series of provocative postcards began appearing in the Tate Britain and Tate Modern’s gift shops—quietly slipped amongst the iconic 1988 Guerrilla Girls work, The Advantages of Being a Woman Artist. Unofficial and unsanctioned, the only signature was a defiant “XX” and a declaration: the Radfems of the Artworld. These anonymous acts of resistance called out the complacency of major institutions, reclaiming space for a feminism unafraid to confront uncomfortable truths.

The original Guerrilla Girls work, created 37 years earlier, was a much-needed satirical and critical response to the underrepresentation of women in galleries, museums, and the art market, and it remains a powerful feminist statement today. 

In 2006 a collective called Ridykeulous produced their iteration called The Advantages of Being a Lesbian Woman Artist. Their version highlighted the compounded marginalisation faced by lesbian artists, though it did so using porn-inflected humour that arguably softened the critique to remain palatable within institutional spaces. Ironically (or not), this performance of “activism” by two well-established, institutionally embraced artists has since been acquired by MoMA.

The #TERFEDITION by XX was a direct response to the hostility women in the art world faced for expressing the belief that men cannot become women. These women were silenced, cancelled, threatened, excluded, and continue to be denied a platform. Art galleries, museums, and collections have largely capitulated to gender ideology, and those that haven’t remain silent, too afraid to speak out for fear of professional reprisal.

The XX collective sees this clearly. As a final gesture of defiance, they pointedly reasserted themselves as female artists—a statement of identity the Guerrilla Girls and Ridykeulous now appear ambivalent about, whether out of ideological confusion or a desire to maintain their standing within elite art institutions.

Become an activist - take a few of these cards and leave them in galleries, museums, and institutions that need to wake up - there should be a few lying round the bar.

04: Let’s Vote Now, Unknown

This photograph comes from a scrapbook compiled in 1956–57 by Frances Albrier during her presidency of the San Francisco Chapter of the National Council of Negro Women (NCNW). The scrapbook documents the Chapter’s voter registration campaigns and its work educating Bay Area residents about the importance of civic participation, as part of the Citizenship Education Project, jointly sponsored by the NCNW and the National Urban League.

The poster reading “LET’S VOTE NOW!”, held prominently by the activist at the centre, is a striking visual from one such voter registration drive. I imagine this poster was painted directly onto card or wood — simple, urgent, and effective.

I selected this work as an homage to the countless undocumented posters that have vanished from history. Thousands have been created but never recorded. When I attended Trans Pride in London in 2024, I was struck by the care taken at the end of the march at Marble Arch, where every sign and banner was photographed, catalogued, and cross-referenced with the creator’s email. Such careful documentation ensures these acts of protest are preserved, remembered, and more likely to enter public archives and museum collections.

The “LET’S VOTE NOW!” poster has the immediacy and honesty of outsider art — a term used for work made by self-taught artists. It was created for a purpose, and carries a disarming warmth. To me, it shares something with the paintings of Rose Wylie: the same directness, naivety, spontaneity, and childlike energy that make the message impossible to ignore.

05: Alone We Are Powerless… Together We Are Strong, See Red Women’s Workshop

“Alone we are powerless, together we are strong”, was a saying that originated in the early 20th century labour and unions and was then popularised in the 1970s feminist revival.  I wanted to include this poster for two reasons, one the message resonates deeply with me and sets and tone, and secondly the See Red collective did a lot of important work encouraging women to find their voice and make work that challenged the patriarchal norms.

I also wanted to include a copy of the See Red workshop leaflet that guided women on how to approach making a political poster , “demystified” the artistic process and encouraged working as a collective - after all no idea is really original - we are all riffing off each other.

This poster promotes unity among women who feel alienated, particularly those who stay home to raise children. The repetition of black bars creates associations with imprisonment. The message for those feeling frustrated or trapped is that they are not alone - other women are in identical domestic situations. The addition of "what did you do to-day dear?" at the base of the image is a wry reference to working men who return home daily from work unaware of the alienation women may face in an exclusively domestic setting.

When I wrote to the collective, asking for permission to reproduce the poster, I was refused access citing FiLiAs’ stance on gender and Supreme Court Ruling. I also could not obtain a high resolution image from the V&A of this poster without approval from See Red. (Their posters are now in major museum collections including the V&A, Tate Britain, and Women’s Library).   I know this is not the view of all the collective members.  I have written a bit more about the gatekeeping of these collections by individuals on the introductory interpretation panel.

“Dear [FiLiA],

Many thanks for returning our form and for your request to reprint materials for your exhibition of feminist posters.

Unfortunately, it will not be possible for us to grant permission to reprint the poster and book pages for the reasons set out below.

We are concerned that our inclusion in an exhibition/display for this conference would imply that See Red Women’s Workshop and all its collective members are in agreement with FILIA’s stance on gender and also the recent Supreme Court ruling, which is not the case. We would therefore prefer not to be associated with the conference at this time.

We realise this will be disappointing, but hope you will understand our position and wish you well with your practice as an artist.

With best wishes

[See Red Womens Workshop SRWW]

06: Nicaragua Debe Sobrevivir | Nicaragua Must Survive,, Asociacion de Mujeres Nicaraguenses

“In 1985, the Asociación de Mujeres Nicaragüenses Luisa Amanda Espinoza (AMNLAE) — the women’s organization of the FSLN — published a poster of the Miliciana de Waswalito. The Sandinista woman smiles broadly at the camera, holding her baby and breastfeeding him in public, with her rifle slung over her opposite shoulder.

This image celebrated a woman’s dual loyalty to nation and home. While appearing to endorse women’s public roles, it simultaneously reinforced traditional expectations. Such portrayals politicised women’s domestic identities without truly challenging them.

Personally, I find strong images of women deeply empowering. I was reminded of an exhibition I saw in London in 2016 — Women by Annie Leibovitz. The show, an update of her 1999 project created with Susan Sontag, featured new portraits of women from politics, culture, and activism. I still remember the (unusual) feeling when I left the show feeling confident and uplifted. It’s striking how easily everyday advertising can erode that sense of strength (as well as my father!). I chose this poster because it does the opposite — it presents a clear, unapologetic image of female power.

07: What a Woman May Be, and Yet Not Have The Vote, Sufferage Atelier

The Women's Suffrage movement in Britain was formalised in 1903 when Emmeline Pankhurst established the Women's Social and Political Union. Voting rights for women over 30 were granted in 1918, but equal rights with men (that is, at age 21) were not granted until 1928.

 This poster was produced by the Suffrage Atelier, a society formed in 1909, to 'encourage artists to forward the Women's Movement, and particularly the enfranchisement of women, by means of pictorial publications'. The relatively unsophisticated technique of block printing was partly a consequence of limited funds, but it also allowed 'fresh cartoons [to be] got out at very short notice'.

Some messages can’t be contained in a single image — this is a powerful example of how sequence can strengthen the narrative.

08: Silent Fields Rachel Ara

The title of this work pays homage to Silent Spring, the groundbreaking environmental science book by Rachel Carson, published in 1962. In it, Carson exposed the devastating impact of indiscriminate pesticide use and condemned both the chemical industry for spreading disinformation and public officials for blindly accepting corporate narratives.

More than 60 years later, the warnings of Silent Spring remain strikingly relevant. In Jersey, the island’s largest agricultural export—the Jersey Royal potato—accounts for over 70% of farming revenue - it operates almost as a monoculture. Its production relies heavily on pesticide use, including chemicals banned in the EU. Some of these pesticides are persistent in water systems and pose risks to ecosystems, affecting plants, insects, animals, and human health alike.

A friend took this photo of me in 2024, in the field next to my house while I was having chemotherapy. We’re surrounded by potato fields here, and a lot of people in the area have fallen ill. We tried to catch the sprayers in action, but they were — unsurprisingly — very camera shy. Later, I added the sprayer and spray jets in Photoshop and AI, mirroring the folds of my hospital gown. I gave the image a warm orange tint to hint at the environmental damage.

The work has had a notable impact, appearing in the Jersey Evening Post and encouraging people to look more closely at what’s happening in their surroundings.

09: Just Once, Let Us Pull All Our Different Splinter Groups Together, Unknown

*  “Robber Barons” — a disparaging term applied to nineteenth-century industrialists and financiers who amassed great wealth through monopolies, exploitation, and other unethical business practices.

I chose this poster primarily for its message: “Just Once, Let Us Pull All Our Different Splinter Groups Together.”  I often find it frustrating when groups with shared aims struggle to work together simply because of minor differing opinions — when, in truth, we’re all striving for similar goals.   Ironically I was refused permission to use this image by the Center for the Study of Political Graphics in the USA.

Hello [FiLiA],

Thank you for submitting your request to use images for your exhibition project. CSPG’s staff and Board have carefully reviewed it, and your request has been denied.

CSPG does not have a political litmus test for the posters we accept into our collection. However, CSPG reserves the right to refuse requests to publicly exhibit collection materials for projects which, in our judgment, run counter to the organization’s purpose of uplifting and promoting human rights for everyone. Your request has been denied because FiLiA has a recent and documented history of work that is harmful to trans people. If, in the future, that changes we would reconsider working with the organization.

Sincerely,

[Center for the Study of Political Graphics]

(she/her)

The poster depicts Shirley Chisholm, a politician, educator, and author. In 1968, she became the first Black woman elected to Congress, and represented New York’s 12th Congressional District for seven terms from 1969 to 1983. On January 25, 1972, she became the first major-party Black candidate for President of the United States and the first woman to run for the Democratic presidential nomination. Not surprisingly, discrimination followed Chisholm’s quest. She was blocked from participating in televised primary debates, and after taking legal action, was permitted to make just one speech.

The bold red framing and uppercase text amplify her call for collective action against the “robber barons of America.” The clean geometry and limited red, black, and white palette reflect the graphic style of 1970s political activism.

It’s not about perfection in design — clarity is what makes it powerful. Too much design can often obscure the message.

10: Lesbian Liberation Front D’Jèrri, Rachel Ara

This poster was created in 2023 for the Lesbian Liberation Front D’Jèrri, a Jersey-based advocacy organisation in the Channel Islands. The group is dedicated to protecting lesbian rights, particularly in contexts where they feel these are being diminished by gender identity ideology. They also oppose the retrospective redefinition of historical lesbian figures. One example they highlight is Claude Cahun—a surrealist artist who lived in Jersey—whose identity as a woman and lesbian has been replaced with gender-neutral terminology in the Jersey Heritage archives. The group criticises this move, noting that Jersey Heritage is a publicly funded body tasked with preserving the island's history, not reshaping it to fit a current political agenda.

The poster is rich in symbolism. The red cross of the Jersey flag forms the background — a bold graphic echo of XX. The central figures mimics Gluck’s portrait used on the cover of Radclyffe Hall’s The Well of Loneliness — one of the first English novels to depict lesbian identity with empathy and gravity. Their bodies merge into the outline of Jersey’s peninsula, the very landscape where they lived.

They hold a flag made of oarweed, a common seaweed on the island — perhaps a nod to the proliferation of contemporary identity flags and the fluidity of meaning they carry. The typography draws from Revolutionary-era Soviet design, evoking a call to action and collective resistance.

The Gluck-inspired figures were created by merging elements from the original painting with photographs taken  of local women on the iPhone in Photoshop. Fonts were sourced from free online libraries, the island peninsula drawn by tracing a map in Adobe Illustrator, and the final composition assembled in Adobe InDesign. The oarweed imagery originated from an old botanical illustration found online.

11: Oil Spill Gulf Of Mexico, Marlena Buczek Smith

Art is the exclusion of the unnecessary.

This poster by graphic artist Marlenabuczek is a minimalist depiction of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico in 2010. The image shows a silhouette of a bird, seemingly a pelican, with wings and a head, covered in what appears to be dripping oil. The design highlights the devastating environmental impact of the oil spill on wildlife.

Often simple works are the hardest, and one can struggle for days with them - but the results are so satisfying.  I find this work very impactful.

What was interesting, when I curated it alongside Betty's poster then I noticed how the shape also mirrored a Uterus.

I would image the image of the bird was made in Adobe Illustrator, or some other vector based package.  But the initial impression is that of black paint.

Her website is well worth exploring for anyone interested in striking, minimalist imagery with a strong political undercurrent.

12: This Woman is Vietnamese, Liliana Porter

I chose this poster because it’s harsh — and that’s exactly why it works. Sometimes it’s important to confront the raw realities of conflict instead of sanitising them. There’s a growing tendency toward over-censorship, with trigger warnings and content filters protecting us from things we probably should be seeing.

One of the most powerful examples of a anti-Vietnam War poster is  And Babies (1969 (not shown here)). It used a photograph from the My Lai massacre, showing the bodies of Vietnamese women and children killed by American soldiers. Across the image, the words “Q. And babies?” and “A. And babies.” are printed in blood-red type. It was described as  “the most successful poster to vent the outrage that so many felt about the conflict in Southeast Asia.” It’s a reminder that art and activism sometimes need to disturb in order to wake people up.

In this work, the typewriter font evokes reportage and truth-telling, connecting art, journalism, and activism. By equating “you” and “I” with the anonymous woman, the poster insists that her suffering is not distant or foreign, but part of a collective moral responsibility.

In essence, it’s a visual call for empathy and solidarity — a reminder that the struggles of one woman, anywhere, belong to all of us.

13: Campaign Against the Patriarchal Myth of Female “Virginity”, MALI

I really wanted to include one of Betty’s posters in the selection — it’s bold, graphic, and unapologetically powerful (and it just looks great). The image turns a uterus into a symbol of resistance, with each fallopian tube ending in a raised fist — that timeless gesture of solidarity and defiance seen in protests around the world.

The text reads in French: “Avortement légal, sûr, accessible. Rejoins la révolution.” — “Legal, safe, accessible abortion. Join the revolution.”

In Morocco, where MALI is based, abortion remains illegal in almost all cases, only permitted if the mother’s life or health is at risk. For MALI, this isn’t just a medical or legal issue — it’s about choice, dignity, and bodily autonomy: basic freedoms. Their actions and posters are designed to get people talking, to challenge taboos, and to hold institutions accountable. Through bold visuals and symbolic gestures, they combine art and activism to disrupt, provoke, and inspire change.

I haven’t spoken to Betty about how the poster was made, but I’d imagine it was created digitally — probably in Illustrator or InDesign — and then printed.

14: #FREEBETTY , Rachel Ara

I met Betty earlier this year when we were both taking part in the Women Create International event in London in May. We got on really well — I loved her artwork and was deeply impressed by her activism. We also talked openly about cancer and life in general. She was wearing the “Allah is a Lesbian” T-shirt at the event — the same one that later led to her detention after the photograph was taken.

At the time, I asked her what the phrase meant. To be honest, I didn’t fully get it, and didn’t think much more about it until the story broke in the news (which I now feel embarrassed about). That’s when I felt I had to take responsibility for understanding it properly. I did a lot of research and had many conversations with people, asking what it meant to them. We are incredibly lucky that we live in a society where we can have these conversations without fear. Out of that came this poster.

It reminded me how important it is to consider who you’re speaking to — and who you’re trying to reach — because the same sentence can carry very different meanings for different audiences.

In terms of technique, I wanted the poster to look like an old hangman game scrawled on a blackboard. I didn’t have any chalk or a board to hand — and after checking with a few friends who didn’t either — I figured there must be an app for it. There was. I downloaded it, drew the layout, and took a screenshot. I then refined it in Photoshop, using AI to generate the chalk texture and an image-library blackboard for the background. The final composition was assembled in Adobe InDesign.

A QR code links to the #FreeBetty page on FiLiA’s website — a simple way to guide viewers to more information, petitions, and ways to take action.

Paper Bullets 

14 Feminist Political Posters

Welcome to FiLiA’s Political Posters exhibition. This display spans the East and West Bars, with fifteen boxes presenting posters of protest and resistance. Visitors are encouraged to view the works directly, giving space for first impressions, before scanning the QR code to learn more about the politics, intentions and creative processes behind the works.  We hope you come away inspired to create your own.

Posters have long been powerful tools of resistance, able to shift public opinion and demonstrate a collective voice. Whether scrawled on cardboard at the kitchen table, run off on the office photocopier or designed with AI; what gives them strength is urgency.

For this exhibition, I’ve gathered an eclectic mix of posters alongside some of my own work, highlighting simple yet powerful approaches across a range of subjects.  In the text, I share why I selected them and the ideas behind their making.

Curating this show has been an unexpected journey: I’ve met inspiring creators, had my views challenged, and faced resistance from organisations unwilling to be associated with FiLiA. What struck me most was the extent of gatekeeping now surrounding these posters - something their creators never intended.

Artists behind the posters were rarely named. Feminists of the 1970s recall how their work was routinely uncredited, while writers’ names were preserved. Many collectives rejected individual attribution, signing only as a group. This reflected two conflicting pressures: inspired from the left, a push to suppress ego and create “for the people,” and from some feminists, a fight to ensure women were acknowledged after centuries of erasure. Attribution was more than symbolic - it was practical - opening doors to jobs, and giving historians a way to trace back and connect with the creators.

During my research, I sought permission to include a work called “Alone We Are Powerless, Together We Are Strong” — a statement that resonates strongly with me. The request was refused, with the explanation that “the collective did not want to be associated with FiLiA’s stance on gender and the Supreme Court ruling.” This was not the only one, individuals, within institutions and collectives have assumed the authority to determine who is granted access to our posters from the past, which seems wildly at odds with the spirit in which they were made. Dissenting voices are lost, leaving them effectively silenced. What once appeared as a principle of solidarity now feels more like control. These institutions and collectives, often tax payer funded, have seized the power to dictate who is permitted access and who is denied, the voices of a few dictating to the many.

These acts of censorship matter. Creatives and organisations are being blocked from using or showing important historical works from collections. At the same time, the exclusion of gender-critical women’s work from acquisitions rewrites history by omission.

I hope these posters not only resonate with you but inspire further thought and action.

Rachel Ara

FiLiA Artist-in-Residence 2025/6

To learn more about FiLiA’s Artist in Residence programme, including sponsorship opportunities or details on how to apply for the 2026/27 residency, please contact: info@filia.org.uk