Hair. For such tiny strands of protein, we place an inordinate amount of focus on it. We fret over its health, length, shape, style, and color. We spend money to maintain it, shelling out cash for cuts, styles, dye jobs, and products. Women are bombarded with ads of thick locks, tresses shining and flowing long and luxurious with nary a conspicuous split end or fly-away. Men are not immune to promises made by hair replacement or regrowth companies. Self-esteem and the appearance and health of our hair are linked, and there is an entire industry supported by the desire to have thick, luscious hair. Along with that, there is the denial of aging accompanied by pressure to color our gray strands.
Hair. It is symbolic of many things. It represents youth, beauty, and strength in countless examples of lore shared throughout cultures and time. Hair can be a symbol of protest; women have shorn their locks in protest, to be seen as a symbol of strength, while men have grown theirs long to buck civil conventions. Conversely, the unwilling cropping of hair is a form of dominance and punishment. Hair plays a part in our social constructs, racial conformity, rituals, and identity, and has done so for our entire existence.
Hair. Science looks to hair as receptacles of information indicating the chemical makeup of our bodies. It can be used to determine if a person is of European, Asian, or African ancestry. If it is pulled out from the root, hair can yield DNA evidence. A random strand can reveal drugs you’ve taken, or exposure to toxins, or nutritional deficiencies. Trichology, the scientific study of hair dates to the mid-1800s.
Hair. Victorians used hair to create painstaking mourning jewelry and wreaths to commemorate loved ones. Parents hold on to locks of hair trimmed from a child's first haircut. It connects us. Hair is intimate. We don't let anyone come up and touch our hair without permission. That honor belongs to a partner, family, close friends, and hairdressers.
What started as a contemplation on women and aging seven years ago, morphed into thoughts about solitude and stress during the pandemic as I collected my shed strands during quarantine while others protested their "right" to a haircut. As I composed these drawings with my naturally shed hair and worked in the darkroom to create these prints, I thought about hair and what it symbolizes. This is stage one in an ongoing project. For such easily overlooked detritus, there is much to weigh about the symbolism it carries and the importance of what it means right now.
This work began during the quarantined month of May 2020. All prints are silver gelatin fiber prints.