Arts

Struggling through art school, Ehiko Odeh was told to make art that felt like home. It changed her career

The Nigerian-born multimedia artist’s work explores the meaning, history and power of Black hair

The Nigerian-born multimedia artist’s work explores the meaning, history and power of Black hair

A painting depicting colourful bottle of hair products.
From Ehiko Odeh's exhibit "Our Hair Holds Memories." (Courtesy of Ehiko Odeh )

"I was doing well at arts but bad at school," says 24-year-old Toronto-based multidisciplinary artist Ehiko Odeh when describing her first year in Canada back in 2015.

Odeh grew up in Nigeria, in Lagos' Surulere neighbourhood. Just prior to starting her final year of high school, she moved to Hamilton, Ont. 

"I wasn't happy to come [to Canada]," she says. "I was [already] experiencing anxiety back home. I didn't know what it was until I moved here, and it didn't get any better."

She was a world away from her family, worried about the safety of her mother due to the political and economic climate in Nigeria, and struggling to adapt to her new environment. But her art class felt like a lifeline. In 2016, she saw a presentation from an Ontario College of Art and Design University representative (OCAD)— she was one of only two students who came to the talk — and quickly "fell in love" with the idea of art school.

Odeh was accepted into OCAD, but it didn't solve all her problems. She was living in a rental apartment that she couldn't work in, and often couldn't sleep in because it was too cold. She continued to struggle with her mental health and self-harm, while working as a dishwasher. 

Odeh would often sleep in OCAD's student lounge on the second floor, or in the fourth floor's painting studio. But in a course taught by Linda Martinello, she was given an assignment that changed things for her: she was asked to create art that felt like home. 

"The first thing that came into my mind was my mom doing my hair," she says. "It evolved into exploring local hair salons back home in Lagos, Nigeria."

A young Black woman with locs framing her face looks into the camera, holding a box of "Dark & Lovely."
Artist Ehiko Odeh. (Patricia Ellah)

Later, she took a creative writing course with Black Canadian poet Lillian Allen

"She's a great teacher and she took me in," says Odeh. Allen even gave the young artist a space heater for her frigid apartment. "She felt like the godmother that I needed, being in a city where I didn't know anyone. Lillian gave me the community that I have now." 

Through Allen she met Karen Carter, the co-founder and director of Black Artists' Networks in Dialogue Gallery & Cultural Centre (BAND). 

"The very first [hair] piece I did was on cardboard, because I couldn't afford to buy a canvas at the time," says Odeh. 

Carter loved it. In June 2019, Odeh participated in her very first exhibit titled Ochu'lu O'oya-Celebrating Ceremony at BAND. 

"Hair became more of an interest to me," says Odeh. "That was how the series started."  

For DesignTO 2024, Odeh crafted the Golden Beauty Supply, an interactive exhibit in collaboration with MCA Gallery and grassroots creative agency Ibifiriwari to honor the legacy of Golden's West Indian Barber & Beauty Supply Corporation, or Golden's for short, at 860 Bathurst St. The store served Black communities in Toronto for decades. It's still open, but the landlord has put the property up for sale.

"At first, [my art] was about memory and nostalgia," says Odeh, who had a solo exhibit titled Our Hair Holds Memory at BAND in 2023. She played with bright colors and acrylic paint then. Now she's exploring more with oil paints, oil pastels and collage elements. She sas research is an important part of her artistic process. 

"There's only so much being online can give me," says Odeh. 

She finds herself in libraries, visiting hair salons in different areas to ask hairdressers and their clients questions, or to take photos of their workspaces. This also led her to comb through another section of hair care history. 

"The more I learned about the ingredients, I really wanted to highlight that more in my work," she says. "I want people to be aware of who is in charge of these [hair product] companies. Be aware of where your money is going. Money is power."

Back in Nigeria, Odeh often sat between her mother's legs to have her hair done. Today, she wonders deeply about why American products like Blue Magic and Cantu were so present in her childhood, despite not being Black owned.  

A painting depicting colourful bottle of hair products.
Salon Poster #0 by Ehiko Odeh (Courtesy of Ehiko Odeh)

"I found it very interesting how these products were strategically marketed to us, and they weren't made by us," says Odeh. "I was curious about their ingredients and the side effects of these chemicals when they're used long-term."

Products like the hair relaxer Dark & Lovely are facing lawsuits in the U.S. for their negative effects on long-term users. But their popularity in African countries continues to grow, even though in October 2022 the U.S. National Institutes of Health found that women who use those hair relaxers more frequently were at higher risk of developing uterine cancer. 

"I do want to work with a chemist to learn more about the ingredients of these products," and, she adds, to offer better alternatives. Odeh says her goal isn't to be famous. 

"It's about having real connections and building relationships with people that inspire my work, which is people who make hair, like my mom, my community. Those are people that I make work for." 

Corrections: Due to a misunderstod quote, an earlier edition of this article said that Odeh was doing "well at fights," rather than "well at arts." Additionally, Linda Martinello's name was misspelled as Martino. We regret the errors and apologize.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Daysha Loppie

CJF-CBC/Radio-Canada Black Women's Journalism Fellow

Daysha Loppie is a reporter based in Toronto. She is the 2024-2025 CJF-CBC/Radio-Canada Black Women's Journalism Fellow.