{"id":416371,"date":"2026-01-19T07:37:15","date_gmt":"2026-01-19T07:37:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/416371\/"},"modified":"2026-01-19T07:37:15","modified_gmt":"2026-01-19T07:37:15","slug":"oregon-artists-dont-touch-my-hair-exhibition-makes-complying-impossible","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us\/416371\/","title":{"rendered":"Oregon artist\u2019s \u2018Don\u2019t Touch My Hair\u2019 exhibition makes complying impossible"},"content":{"rendered":"

Ashland artist Crystal Proffitt\u2019s<\/a> poignant installation \u201cDon\u2019t Touch My Hair: An Interactive Crowned Experience\u201d<\/a> at southern Oregon\u2019s Langford Art Gallery invites viewers to stop playing by the rules.<\/p>\n

People are encouraged to do what the title tells them not to do: touch the carefully arranged strands of hair attached to portraits of local Black models. <\/p>\n

While handling the braids and locs, gallery visitors listen to voice recordings of the models speaking of styling hair as ancestral acts of cultural identity, healing and resilience. One model called hair \u201cmy soul signature.\u201d<\/p>\n

The models also speak of uncomfortable experiences of strangers scrutinizing, questioning and reaching for their hair. <\/p>\n

Proffitt said her multi-sensory installation was created to allow for critical reflection on the beauty of often-maligned textured hair and how histories of exclusion<\/a> continue to shape contemporary experiences of identity, bodily autonomy and cultural visibility.<\/p>\n

Hair is a personal crown, not a public curiosity, said Proffitt, who has full, curly hair that strangers often try to stroke.<\/p>\n

She has found some people and businesses see textured, kinky or coiled hair as unkempt, unprofessional and a fireable offense<\/a>, rather than hair that can make a person feel beautiful, important, attractive and loved.<\/p>\n

The \u201cDon\u2019t Touch My Hair\u201c installation is supported by a grant from the Oregon Cultural Trust to the Black Alliance & Social Empowerment<\/a> (BASE) Southern Oregon community organization.<\/p>\n

Vance Beach, BASE\u2019s founder and executive director, said Proffitt\u2019s work welcomes people to \u201ccome with care and a willingness to grow\u201d to deepen their knowledge and understanding. <\/p>\n

The \u201cDon\u2019t Touch My Hair\u201d installation debuted Jan. 3 at the Langford Art Gallery<\/a> in the Rogue Valley city of Phoenix, with support by the Phoenix Art & Culture Council<\/a>, and continues through Jan. 24.<\/p>\n

The installation will then join BASE\u2019s third annual Black Cultural Legacy Series, which celebrates Black History Month and runs Jan. 17-Feb. 27 at the Rogue Gallery & Art Center<\/a> in Medford.<\/p>\n

The hair will gradually show wear from viewers\u2019 touching, yet Proffitt intentionally will not rebraid or repair the art. <\/p>\n

\u201cThis erosion is part of the meaning,\u201d Proffitt said. \u201cIt\u2019s a quiet reminder of what happens to things that are meant to be treated with care, yet are not always handled as such.\u201d<\/p>\n

The movement behind the art\"OpeningPerformer Devyn-Michelle LaVicious sings Solange Knowles’ \u201dDon\u2019t Touch My Hair” Jan. 3 at the opening of artist Crystal Proffitt\u2019s installation \u201cDon\u2019t Touch My Hair: An Interactive Crowned Experience\u201d at the Langford Art Gallery in Phoenix, Oregon.Janet Eastman\/The Oregonian\/OregonLive<\/p>\n

Proffitt\u2019s installation is ambitious. She sees her affirming project as an artistic experience, an educational tool and a platform to elevate the Don\u2019t Touch My Hair movement, which is widely championed in art<\/a>, literature<\/a> and music<\/a>. <\/p>\n

Nina Simone\u2019s song \u201cFour Women,\u201d<\/a> India.Arie\u2019s \u201cI Am Not My Hair\u201d<\/a> and Solange Knowles\u2019 \u201cDon\u2019t Touch My Hair\u201d<\/a> all address the preservation of Black stories and the policing of Black hair in modern society. <\/p>\n

In 2021, Oregon passed the CROWN Act (Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair)<\/a> to protect the wearing of race-based hairstyles in the workplace and public schools. <\/p>\n

Although 28 states have legislation against biased hair policies, people in 22 states<\/a> still face potential discrimination. They can be disciplined or denied opportunities for wearing an afro, crown braid<\/a>, Bantu knots or locs.<\/p>\n

Two-thirds of Black women change their hairstyle for a job interview, mostly by straightening naturally curly hair, according to a 2023 Workplace Research Study of almost 3,000 Black, Hispanic and white women by the nonprofit CROWN Coalition<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Ongoing hair bias<\/a> makes Proffitt\u2019s art an urgent and relevant form of activism.<\/p>\n

The installation\u2019s centerpiece is an Ancestor Tree that lights up when viewers tap it with braids tethered to nearby portraits. Here, Proffitt said hair becomes the conduit through which identity, sovereignty and resilience are illuminated.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe illumination isn\u2019t created magic,\u201d said the multiracial artist, \u201cbut rather referencing truths our ancestors knew and a return to nature and Indigenous ways.\u201d<\/p>\n

She said beliefs held by the South Sudanese and other people<\/a> who recognize hair as possessing significant cultural and spiritual power will seem familiar to those who have seen \u201cAvatar\u201d movies. The fictional Na\u2019vi connect their braids to sacred trees.<\/p>\n

By researching worldwide faiths and traditions and drawing on her own beliefs, Proffitt sees the crown of the head as a sacred focal point for spiritual experience, energy flow and divine connection. <\/p>\n

\u201cHair is an antenna,\u201d she said, \u201cthat holds cultural memory and connection to something far greater than the individual.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u2018Taming\u2019 natural waves and curls<\/p>\n

Proffitt, 36, grew up in California\u2019s Bay Area in a blended family and was not raised by her biological parents, who are people of color.<\/p>\n

She taught herself how to care for her curly hair and practiced braiding on her Barbie doll. She noticed early on that her hairstyle affected the way strangers treated her. <\/p>\n

\u201cWhen I wore cornrows I was followed in grocery stores; when I wore my natural hair, I was teased at school,\u201d she said. <\/p>\n

For years, she used chemicals or a flat iron to relax her hair \u201cto fit into a world that equated professionalism with straight, \u2018tamed\u2019 hair,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

Even with straightened hair, she still faced unwanted touching in casual and professional settings, including when she worked at a law office. <\/p>\n

She wondered, how do I get people to just not touch me?<\/p>\n

\u201cAs someone who is highly sensitive and easily overstimulated by touch, moments like feeling fingers on my scalp while working made it clear that something was deeply wrong,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

Later, when she was a dancer, dance manager and a hair and makeup artist at a San Francisco talent agency, she witnessed a young Latina performer being disciplined for wearing her natural waves and curls. <\/p>\n

A team leader told the performer that her hair was \u201cunprofessional\u201d and \u201cnasty,\u201d recalled Proffitt.<\/p>\n

Proffitt confronted the woman who made the remarks, and the woman cried and said she was \u201ca good person.\u201d Too often, Proffitt said, people dismiss conversations to protect someone\u2019s feelings.<\/p>\n

She sought another way to talk about hair bias.<\/p>\n

An enticing interactive installation<\/p>\n

Proffitt moved to Ashland in 2021 to be near her sister and said the touching of her hair intensified. In addition, she couldn\u2019t find a hair braider near her home to protect her hair from Rogue Valley\u2019s dry climate.<\/p>\n

\u201cA great hairstylist will take their time \u2014 almost like a shaman, really honoring and caring for you,” she said. \u201cPrayers go into creating each and every single braid.\u201d<\/p>\n

Out of necessity, Proffitt cares for her hair as well as her friends\u2019 textured hair. <\/p>\n

During long braiding sessions, Proffitt said they shared stories of their hair being touched by strangers and spoke openly about the emotional labor required to navigate those experiences.<\/p>\n

The discussions led Proffitt to use her artistic voice to speak plainly, as seen in \u201cDon\u2019t Touch My Hair.\u201d <\/p>\n

Her art has always depicted people of color in empowering, fantastical ways, like an afro hairstyle seen as a galaxy. This time, she wanted to create a multi-sensory experience where the message in her visual art is amplified by sound and touch, and viewers interacting with the art.<\/p>\n

Proffitt collaborated with photographer Ally White<\/a> and Afrofuturist multimedia artist Micah Blacklight<\/a> to create the portraits surrounding the 6-foot-tall Ancestor Tree equipped with a light system by engineer and artist Robert Quattlebaum<\/a> of Voria Labs. <\/p>\n

Viewers notice that the models in the six portraits have an unwavering gaze that looks directly at them. Then they see painted markings on the canvas near the strands of artfully braided, twisted or poofy hair. One portrait has a touchable cowrie shell headpiece. <\/p>\n

White, who said her work celebrates the real, unfiltered beauty of human beings, photographed the six models in downtown Ashland\u2019s Lithia Park. <\/p>\n

During a Jan. 9 panel discussion with the installation\u2019s collaborating artists at the Langford Art Gallery, White said she approached the assignment softly and with care as the models \u201cbared their souls.\u201d <\/p>\n

Blacklight, a respected Ashland artist known for solo shows<\/a>, then told the audience that White\u2019s photography \u201ccaptured the innocence, authenticity, vulnerability and swag\u201d of the models. <\/p>\n

Each of the photographs was printed on a canvas and then embellished by Blacklight with painted tattoos and other markings that emphasize power. <\/p>\n

Blacklight said his role was to reinforce Proffitt\u2019s message, which he described as the need for people who feel \u201cpushed, crushed, suppressed and trivialized\u201d to stand tall. <\/p>\n

In the interactive installation, people use headsets to hear the models\u2019 audio recordings.<\/p>\n

Model Jaalen Owens<\/a> remembers wearing a T-shirt to school that his mother made with the words \u201cDon\u2019t Touch the \u2018Fro.\u201d <\/p>\n

He said in his audio recording he \u201ccould tell when somebody\u2019s energy came from respect rather than novelty,\u201d and sometimes he consented to having his hair tousled. <\/p>\n

Model CJ Thomas describes an experience of a woman calling Thomas\u2019 braids \u201cdreadlocks\u201d and pushing to touch them after Thomas said no. <\/p>\n

Thomas also speaks of the hours with her stepmother, who owned a hair salon. \u201cHer hands gave me dignity. Her hands felt like love,\u201d Thomas said. \u201cAnd that\u2019s the type of dignity anyone deserves.\u201d<\/p>\n

If you go: \u201cDon\u2019t Touch My Hair: An Interactive Crowned Experience\u201d will be exhibited through Jan. 24 at the Langford Art Gallery<\/a>, 4850 S. Pacific Highway<\/a> in Phoenix. <\/p>\n

The art will then be exhibited at the Rogue Gallery & Art Center<\/a> at 40 S. Bartlett St.<\/a> in Medford through Feb. 27. Admission is generally free and open to the public at both galleries, though some special events might have a small cover charge.<\/p>\n