
Erin M. Riley, “Evidence,” 2017, wool, cotton, 134 x 48 inches. Image courtesy of the artist, Cody Fitzsimmons, and Christopher Scott
Within the numerous states and cities across the South, abortion access and reproductive rights are increasingly restricted, if not completely banned following the Supreme Court’s overturning of Roe v. Wade in 2022. Maternal mortality rates continue to rise in the South as restrictions prevail. And as the 2024 US presidential election draws closer, reproductive freedom has taken center stage amidst our harsh political climate.
In Texas — home to some of the most draconian reproductive laws in the country — two Dallas-based curators launch the first exhibition organized and mounted in the American South that directly addresses abortion access and reproductive rights. Emily Edwards, Associate Curator at the Dallas Contemporary, and Sara Hignite, independent curator and founder of Hignite Projects, present Is It Real? Contemporary Artists Address Reproductive Freedom, an exhibition centered around artists connected to the Southern states, a majority of whom represent marginalized communities, fighting against the collapse of reproductive rights in America.
I know what you’re thinking. A reproductive rights exhibition…in Dallas? There was one main question on my mind: is it real? The answer: hell yeah.
The exhibition takes its title from Juanita McNeely’s 1969 painting, Is it Real? Yes It Is!, which depicts her illegal abortion experience. The multi-panel painting expresses the physical and emotional turmoil of her situation. Now — 55 years later — these experiences and issues are still just as real and relevant as access to safe reproductive care diminishes.

Cynthia Mulcahy, “Daddy (War Garden Series),” 2024, tansy, pennyroyal, angelica, sage, glass
tubes, wood, enamel lacquer, peacock-pattern hand-marbled paper, dyed calfskin, archival glue, brass rod, leather glue, brass hinges, 9 x 11.5 x 8.25 inches (box lid open). Image courtesy of the artist and Talley Dunn Gallery
Is It Real? showcases 30+ contemporary artists working in a variety of mediums. The first work I come across in the middle of the gallery sitting atop a white pedestal is Cynthia Mulcahy’s 2024 sculpture Daddy (War Garden Series), a cigar box turned into a black enamel lacquered case with hand-marbled paper and brass and leather details. Instead of cigars, the case holds glass vials filled with tansy, pennyroyal, angelica, and sage, which are all-natural abortifacients (abortion-inducing substances). Instead of labels, the vials bear portraits of historical “fathers:” Aristophanes (the Father of Comedy), Carl Linnaeus (the Father of Taxonomy), Benjamin Franklin (a Founding Father), and Pope John XXI (the Holy Father). Each man officially published advice in his time on how to avoid pregnancy or terminate a pregnancy using various plants, which underscores the normalization of abortion throughout most of Western history.

Lydia Nobles, “DeZ’ah,” from the series “As I Sit Waiting,” 2022, acrylic, acrylic latex, epoxy, 23K gold leaf, resin, polyurethane, wood, 26 x 15.25 x 54.25 inches. Image courtesy of the artist
As I look to my right, a vibrant turquoise sculpture catches my eye — Lydia Nobles’s DeZ’ah from her ongoing series As I Sit Waiting. Nobles gathers personal narratives surrounding the challenges of accessing abortion care and creates large-scale, abstract sculptures in response to each individual narrative. Her monuments, designed to evoke the waiting room chairs in abortion clinics, personify each individual she interviews, highlighting their personal journey. DeZ’ah was inspired by the story of a woman named DeZ’ah who sought an abortion in Georgia in 2020.
Although the show addresses one of the front-facing issues within reproductive rights — abortion access — it also confronts a plethora of other contemporary reproductive care issues.

Elliot Doughtie, “With teeth, the fox, he comes.” 2019, ceramic tile, grout, wood, and fox fangs, 18 x 18 x 2 inches. Image courtesy of the artist
Elliot Doughtie and Madeline Donahue explore the intersections of danger, fear, and intimate experiences often had within a bathroom. Doughtie’s ceramic tiles adorned with fox fangs probe into their many contradicting experiences often had within that space as a trans person. Meanwhile, Donahue scatters her ceramic pregnancy tests around a bathroom sink and trash can, nodding to the domestic space where many individuals first learn of their pregnancy, and also touching on ideas of disposability. As you gaze into the mirror hanging over the sink, the viewer takes the place of the person taking the test and is confronted with many conflicting feelings that may arise in that situation.

Katrina Majkut, “IVF,” 2013, cotton thread, glass vials, hypodermic needle on Aida cloth, 8 x 11 x 2.5 inches. Courtesy of the artist. Photo: Emma S. Ahmad
The exhibition includes three pieces from Katrina Majkut’s series In Control, which utilizes cross-stitch to explore the intricate relationship between autonomy and reproductive rights. In Control confronts the realities of women and nonbinary individuals living with a uterus today, challenging the oversimplified “pro-life” versus “pro-choice” dichotomy and highlighting the precarious nature of bodily autonomy.
Similarly, Erin M. Riley employs fiber in her 2017 hand-woven tapestry titled Evidence, which depicts objects found in a sexual assault evidence collection kit — an essential but often overlooked component of the medical and legal response to sexual violence. Tapestries as a medium have historically been dismissed as “women’s work,” so Riley’s use of this medium subverts its traditional application to address a grim reality: the pervasive and everyday violence faced by women and LGBTQ individuals.

Elvira Michelle Castillo, still from “Amor: Breathwork Therapy Session,” video, 4 minutes, 30
seconds. Image courtesy of the artist
A few videos play on a loop in the back room of the gallery. One video by Elvira Michelle Castillo captures a segment of a breathwork therapy session, exploring larger ideas of intergenerational memory and trauma and how it manifests particularly in marginalized communities. Another is a non-linear video collage by Ari Brielle combining archival footage, research studies, sound, performances of rage, medical studies, and recent self-portraiture that culminates in an investigation into the commodification of the body.
Lex Marie’s Deconstructed Black Maternal Health Flag highlights the harsh realities of medical racism, inadequate healthcare, and institutional neglect, and serves as a stark reminder of the intersectionality between race and reproductive rights. By reconstructing the American flag using the familiar striped fabrics of baby hospital receiving blankets, this piece underscores the deep connection between national identity and the systemic failings that jeopardize the lives of Black mothers and their babies.
I would foremost call the exhibition brave, not just for its unapologetic confrontation of these divisive topics, but also for its overwhelming vulnerability and empathy. Is It Real? strives to challenge misinformation and structural stigmas around these topics, and shine a light on how the reproductive care crisis has and continues to manifest in marginalized communities. The conceptualization and production of Is It Real? is a fervent example of curatorial activism by Edwards and Hignite. Both curators committed themselves to uplifting many (sometimes differing) perspectives, countering erasure, and destigmatizing and humanizing reproductive care through the lens of Southern artists, whose rights are being stripped away most severely. The 30+ artists represented in Is It Real? not only educate viewers about these structural and systemic problems and their resulting consequences, they also offer resistance.
As I exit the gallery and get into my car to drive away, I spot one final work from the exhibition that I seem to have missed when I arrived. Mounted on the roof of the gallery is Alicia Eggert’s LED neon pink sign that stands out vibrantly against the quiet Texas sunset. The sign alternates between three inseparable phrases: OUR BODIES. OUR FUTURES. OUR ABORTIONS.

Alicia Eggert, “OURs,” 2022, made in collaboration with Sarah Sandman and the Planned Parenthood Federation of America, LED neon, aluminum, paint, acrylic, dimensions variable. Image courtesy of the artist
Is It Real? Contemporary Artists Address Reproductive Freedom is on view at Lagoon Studio through October 26, 2024.
Emma S. Ahmad is an art historian and writer based in Dallas, TX.
1 comment
Bravo for writing about this important exhibition.