Lichen wig: These two words made me curious about the
show Rootless by Natasha Lavdovsky at
the Xchanges gallery.
I arrived to find everyone on the balcony just
outside the door enjoying the Vickers-esque sunset. They seemed to know one
another, adding to the celebratory vibe for this opening. Ambient music with
the echoes of birds in a wind rustling forest played for white plaster heads
and torsos adorned only with lichen wigs and merkins while I browsed the gallery
alone.
Immediately I was drawn in by the cultural
significance of hair and thought of the many merkin jokes my sister and I
shared. Merkins were first used in the
15th century after pubic hair was removed to combat lice; later on
in films to make them less sexual and later for theatrical purposes. I mulled
over the option to interact and spray the merkins with water but instead moved
onto inspecting other pieces.
On a projector screen, mesmerizing images of rapidly
moving lichen alternated with the image of a young woman wearing a long lichen
wig covering part of her breasts. The nudity evoked Eden and sin and our
relationship to sexuality. The video showed us just how one would look in a
lichen wig. Would our understanding change if we could see the wig in different
settings such as a bus, café or street?
The artist statement discussed the desire and obstacles
to create art with minimal environmental impact. I learned that many lichens
are endangered and the artist harvested these specimens that had fallen to the
ground that might otherwise perish if not rescued. Scientific descriptions and
samples of various lichen reminds us the materials are living things thereby blurring
the line between objects and nature. The tension between the artist’s intent to
cultivate an identity as one appreciative of nature, yet faced with a
disconnection or rootlessness to the land as a white settler is apparent. This
desire to create a new identity with a wig, an object most often used to play
with other identities is clever. Lichen is simultaneously exalted but also used
as a camouflage. The artist sought to protect nature while also using it as a
protective veil.
Although it was a soothing space it felt limited.
While the sameness of the pieces provided continuity it also created monotony. Everything was either white or green and did
not promise further epiphanies. The wigs and merkins were quite conservative,
the wildness of nature neatly trimmed to mirror contemporary fashion.
As the party outside moved in, I commented in the
book that the show resonates on many levels: ecology, the body, sexuality and
history. As I walked into the humid evening I realized that yes the artist was
successful in eliciting a desire for a lichen wig; I would just prefer a wilder,
bouffant, eccentric style that resists the constraints of civilized society.
Why stop at lichens: throw an entire forest in there. The difficult part is
keeping such wigs intact, perhaps why this show only lasted for three days from
September 28-30.
