Threading Black: Eva Birhanu and Simone Elizabeth Saunders on Connecting Race, Roots and Identity

by Shiemara Hogarth

Threads twist, imprint, and form palpable presences within the surfaces they create. These presences are interwoven in a manner such that “threads may be transformed into traces, and traces into threads”[1].  Eva Birhanu and Simone Elizabeth Saunders, while exploring personal stories in their works, communicate the traces of common threads that underpin an understanding of Black female Canadian identity.  Threading Black invites observation of these connections and reflection on what they reveal about their imagining of themselves in Canada and the realm of Canadian craft production.  

look, don’t touch takes a mould of a length of tightly braided synthetic hair and casts it in bronze. At 20 inches in length, it stands gilded, solitary, and permanent.  It appears defiant as if removing all inclination to curiously examine the hair now that it is devoid of the peculiar head on which it usually occupies space. Now that it is presented as more ‘valuable,’ does it still invite unwarranted interaction? If there is now an implied increase in value, will it stave off unwanted or unnecessary handling?

Similarly, i know you want ‘em plays on this consideration of value. By coating a pack of $7 synthetic hair extensions in an acrylic medium with gold paint, the creator gilds the rather standard but often ‘othered’[2] hair store synthetic braids. She compels one to consider whether this 24-inch pack of hair is more treasured solely due to an implied increase in value, or is it because of an added disassociation from the head onto which it is usually braided. Had it been a standard pack of dark brown extensions on display or already braided onto someone’s head, would there be any inclination to see the inherent value in something routinely used to vary Black hairstyles and curate a personal presence?

Interlaced within the 5-foot natural eggshell-coloured woven fabric of hair weaving is a presence and an absence of the body simultaneously felt. Facing it, one can see that the once bone-straight vibrant auburn hair has been previously braided, unbraided, and – retaining all its coils and curls – purposefully inset into the permanent weave of the cotton-linen fabric. This piece invites us to regard the connection with the individual. This hair once adorned the head of the maker. Unlike the aforementioned gilded bronze pieces, hair weaving places us in a position of reckoning with how we imagine the individual that wears this hair. What do we envision when we try to picture the hair styled on their head?

With wear my hair, the veil is lifted, and we see the individual behind the work. Except now, we are met with a facsimile of hair, which once again questions the implied value and worth associated with hair and Black female identity. Replaced with cooked noodles, the ‘hair’ falls to frame the face and directs our gaze to that of the individual, placing us in direct communication with the creator of the work. The muted monochrome allows the beige of the ‘hair’ to appear stark against the rather sombre background. Standing at 39inx23in, wear my hair places the maker’s eyes at a level looking out and above, compelling us to question the almost farcical but unflinching way she chooses to represent herself in this woven tapestry.

Standing at close to 5 feet, She Watches, She Waits strikes a commanding and somewhat omniscient presence. She reclines against the earth, into which she is firmly rooted, confident in her being. A closer look reveals the likeness of Nina Simone. Knowing how assertive Nina Simone was of herself in a world that didn’t truly see her for who she was reinforces the impression of an all-knowing gaze. This knowledge is connected to roots that flow past the frame within which her presence is currently contained.  She is framed in regal blues and blacks that shine off the deep dark hue of her skin in the moonlight. Golden jewellery adorns her neck, contrasting brilliantly with the deep shades of the night. Her presence is doubly rooted in the act of hand-tufting the velvet yarns into the cloth backing in such a way that even if the threads were ever to be removed, their presence would irrevocably mark the cloth, leaving a lasting impression. 

She Emerges from a nondescript space into a place comprised of a vibrant cornucopia of colours. She confidently reveals to the world a happy part of who she is. Is the presence she presents the person that is received? There is a sense of confidence in knowing how she sees herself. It is a defiantly joyful state of being. This state of being is the creator's own self, and standing at over 5 feet, she looks out at the viewer, assured that this self she defines is for herself and no-one else. At almost a 1:1 scale, these hand-tufted pieces, through the sheer scale and texture of the work, lend weight to the presence asserted. Again, the act of making is an irrevocable marking of her existence.

She Emerges and wear my hair are both self-portraits of their makers, communicating their presence not only through the technical knowledge of making but through the physical manifestation of defining pieces of themselves, knowing that their existence as is matters. At a February 1982 talk at Harvard University, Audre Lorde spoke about the lessons she took from the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s. One of the most vital for her was that we should not be allowing any media source to “define the bearers of those messages most important to our lives.” She went on to state that “if I didn’t define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people’s fantasies for me and eaten alive.”[3]

This exhibit invites us to have these conversations on race and identity, seeing these young Black Canadian women as they wish to be considered. This process of defining their racialized bodies is admittedly an act of defiance in a world which could easily see them in a manner not of their choosing. Kristin Mclaren, writing on how ‘Canadian history’ tends to be told, says that “history begins in myths … stories of origins formulated in relation to reality,” and it is these repeated stories that legitimatize how we understand human beings in the “sacred structure” of a society[4]. Eva and Simone utilize the threads of yarn, synthetic hair – and ramen noodles – to formulate a legitimate conversation of their personhood in Canada.  While there is no sole definition of identity, the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy discuss it as any of ‘the things which “define her as a person” or “make her the person she is”, and which distinguish her from others’[5]. The works ask us to consider how we attribute worth and value to hair, skin colour, and individual expression. It asks us to consider the historical and contemporary continuity of discussions of race, gender, roots and identity. There is a sense of unwavering determination in this conversation, as this exhibition shows that this conversation matters. Eva and Simone are how they present themselves in the world and are defining for themselves how they will be perceived. What the audience takes away from these works is an additional conversation worth having.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

BlackPast. “(1982) Audre Lorde, ‘Learning from the 60s,’” August 12, 2012. https://www.blackpast.org/african-american-history/1982-audre-lorde-learning-60s/.

Chawla, Devika. “Othering and Otherness.” Wiley Online Library. American Cancer Society, December 13, 2017. https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/9781118783665.ieicc0230.

Gonzales, Teresa. “All Children Are at Risk.” Edited by Ontario Institute for Studies in Education. Orbit, 2003 33, no. 3 (2003): 16–18.

Ingold, Tim. Lines: A Brief History. London: Routledge, 2007. 53.

Lee, Min Jin. “In Praise of Bell Hooks - The New York Times.” https://www.nytimes.com/2019/02/28/books/bell-hooks-min-jin-lee-aint-i-a-woman.html.

McLaren, Kristin. “‘We Had No Desire to Be Set Apart’: Forced Segregation of Black Students in Canada West Public Schools and Myths of British Egalitarianism.” In The History of Immigration and Racism in Canada: Essential Readings, edited by Barrington Walker, 69–81. Toronto: Canadian Scholars’ Press, 2008. P70

Olson, Eric T. “Personal Identity.” In The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, edited by Edward N. Zalta, Fall 2019. Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University, 2019. https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2019/entries/identity-personal/.

NOTES

[1] Tim Ingold, in his book Lines, takes a rather philosophical approach to exploring the many ways lines connect and build the very fabric of the way we understand the world.

[2] Devika Chawla, Teresa Gonzales, and Kristin McLaren discuss the concept of ‘othering’ as one whereby a difference is categorized in a lesser manner to separate the us/normal from the them/abnormal.

[3] BlackPast. “(1982) Audre Lorde, ‘Learning from the 60s,’” August 12, 2012.

[4] McLaren, Kristin. “‘We Had No Desire to Be Set Apart’: Forced Segregation of Black Students in Canada West Public Schools and Myths of British Egalitarianism.”

[5] Olsen, “Personal Identity.” In The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy