The face functions as a mask, orchestrated through cumulative genetic anomalies. This surface carries immense symbolic weight, though chance built its singular identity out of a sea of possibilities. The might-have-beens remain, locked within the microscopic building blocks of what-is. But what is more essential to a person, their face or their DNA?
Through her many works deciphering and investigating genetics, artist Heather Dewey-Hagborg teases at both timeless and contemporary questions about the body. Her practice investigates the inherent politics of technology and its social implications as she, “aims to draw viewers into a deep and complex relationship with their own biology, and a visceral understanding of the social impact of new technologies” [1].
Within the broad spectrum of her work, a few overarching themes emerge. What constitutes the body, the visible tissue or the genetic code? In light of that, how do we make sense of the constant shedding and scattering of genetic material throughout the world and can we comprehend the body in more ways through this dialectic shift?
The 3-D printed masks pictured above are part of the work Probably Chelsea, a “collection of thirty different possible portraits of whistleblower Chelsea Manning algorithmically-generated by an analysis of her DNA” [2]. Dewey-Hagborg relied on cheek swabs from Chelsea to extract potential facial characteristics with wildly varying results. While the capabilities of this technology are tremendous, it cannot be treated as a dependable source of evidence since the translation from DNA data to facial characteristics is not a 1:1 relationship.
Through this and her earlier project Stranger Visions, where she worked with the genetic traces of strangers, Dewey-Hagborg seeks to “call attention to the developing technology of forensic DNA phenotyping, the potential for a culture of biological surveillance, and the impulse towards genetic determinism” [3]. She demonstrates that while our understanding of the human body continues to expand rapidly, our confidence ought to be tempered by curiosity and open-minded skepticism.
In tandem with these considerations, Dewey-Hagborg’s work also entertains a certain romanticism about the interconnectedness of human beings. As Stranger Visions demonstrates, the physical presence of a person lingers long after they pass through a space. Whether that remnant be a single hair, a piece of chewing gum, a discarded sock, or even a particle of dust, the essence remains and so does the story of that person.
The human body contains a universe of complexity, spanning the gap between visible and invisible. Our relationship to this embodied experience is perpetually skewed by our desire to understand who and what we are. It is a mystery that continues to compound as it extends ever outward from the people we know to the people we may never know.
But we bear the responsibility to make sense of this enigma as we will. Do we treat embodiment as a hazard or inconvenience or do we see it as a synapse for something even more incomprehensible? I admire the tenacity with which Heather Dewey-Hagborg pursues connection rather than settling with a cold acknowledgement of scientific fact. That tenderness allows her to love, grieve, and learn more fully as she gently strips away superficial assumptions in deference to curiosity and empathy.