Mirror, Mirror: A life in hair

When I see Sonya Clark's provocative art that shows kinky black hair as abacus beads or fashioned into a set of vintage pearls, I am warmed with pride.

To me, the pieces say that African American hair in its natural state is a beautiful medium. After all, my nappy knots could be a part of Clark's solo exhibition that opens Friday at Snyderman-Works Galleries.

But pride isn't Clark's intention. Nor is defiance. Clark uses hair as a medium to tell a personal story, that of a first-generation African American woman whose parents immigrated from the Caribbean. Clark's story isn't one of anger or revenge, nor is it one that begs to prove equality or self-worth. (Although I think the series of five-dollar bills on which Clark adds an Afro to Abraham Lincoln makes a racially charged, in-your-face statement.)

"My art is not about being defiant," said Clark, 44, who is chair of craft and material studies at Virginia Commonwealth University. "If I was being defiant, that would mean I was concerned about what white people think. This is an expression of my identity. . . . It's my story."

The relationship between African American women and their hair is complex. At times it's been hated and feared as well as loved and revered.

The images Clark creates on her canvases and photographs are complex as well. Her art is hard to categorize; she calls herself a fiber artist, but her mixed-media work often takes the form of sculptures, installations, or photographs. And while her art speaks to the African American experience as a whole, Clark is clear that her work is deeply personal. Most of the hair she uses is her own. She also uses hair from close friends and family. 

 "My hair is the representation of the African American body," she explains.

The 24-piece gallery collection is fraught with personal depth and emotion.

Black Hair Flag originated in anger. "I was annoyed with our governor," Bob McDonnell of Virginia, "who was advocating for a Confederate History Month," she said.

Clark wove thick black cotton crochet thread into Bantu knots - West African hair patterns - and long, narrow cornrows. The knots and cornrows were arranged like the stars and stripes of the American flag, then were superimposed on a cloth Confederate flag. The knots and rows represent the work that African Americans did during the slavery era to create the America we know today.

Clark also celebrates her past.