Hair force

Hair can be highly symbolic. It’s part of our body, but it changes constantly. It grows and falls out. It can be altered with scissors, dyes, and accessories. And it can be revealed or concealed. Hair can represent sexuality and is a visible expression of growth and time. For these reasons, and others, the artists Megan Kay and Toni Ortega have chosen to make it the subject of their latest exhibition, Let It Fall. Sincerely,.

The exhibition at the McKinley Arts & Culture Center consists of complementary bodies of work—a series of photographs and a set of vintage, embroidered handkerchiefs. The artists describe the show as collaborative, although the work was created individually, exploring similar themes. The work is arranged on two walls with Ortega’s hand-embroidered handkerchiefs facing Kay’s color portraits. The sets have different approaches and tones to them, resulting in a visual dialogue that leaves the viewer to make the connections between the two. The sense of intimacy that both artists create in their work helps bind them together.

“For me, the work is really introspective,” says Ortega of her vintage handkerchiefs embroidered with individual strands of her hair she plucked as she needed them. The embroidery is ambiguous in most cases, relating very personally to aspects of the artist’s life. “It has to do with a sense of time and me growing gracefully. … The words and images I chose to embroider are all a gesture to people and places.”

The handkerchiefs exude an intimacy, drawing upon the traditional use of the object as something one keeps close to their body, often embroidered on and given to someone as a flirtatious gesture.

“It really boiled down, for me, as a motive, that ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to embroider my hair into something for a lover,” Ortega says. “I realized I didn’t have to have anybody to give it to, I could give those things to myself.”

Similarly, Kay’s photographs hold the same intimacy although her approach is more literal. Although the compositions are careful and deliberate, many of the photographs, given the use of flash and subject matter, have a snapshot quality and a documentary feel.

“The photographs deal a lot with the passing of time in relation to yourself and growing and growing up,” says Kay of her work. “I like documenting my friends. It’s documentary but not completely documentary. When I photograph, I have a particular narrative in mind. In this case, it had to do with Toni’s hair.”

The two artists communicated while creating work for this show, and the photographs were taken over a period of a few months. The most revealing image is a photograph in which Ortega’s back is to the camera. Her hair literally takes the place of her face and becomes her identity.

“I was thinking about the way different women grow into their sexualities and just into themselves and I wanted to document it,” says Kay. “I feel like [Toni and I] have been through a lot of the same benchmark things growing up.”

The two bodies of work play off each other nicely—sometimes subtly, other times more blatantly. At its heart, the show is a look into what it means to grow and change, a way to mark the passing of time. It’s done in a way that is tender and sweet, in a sentimental sort of way.

“Because our lives are in progress, it feels like the show is still in progress,” says Kay.