Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Mallorie Freeman. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Alright, Mallorie thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. What’s been the most meaningful project you’ve worked on?

In 2021, my work was included at the Cleveland Print Room as part of a traveling exhibition titled, The Suitcase Project. Along with me, nine other artists – all from immigrant families (up to two generations removed), were chosen to exhibit a collection of work focusing on items contained in immigrants’ and migrants’ suitcases. My piece was titled, Off the Record, and focused on my Mother and Grandmother’s immigration from the Philippines. The following is my artist’s statement from the project.
My Mother, Merlyn, and Grandmother, Fe McCollum, immigrated from the Philippines when Merlyn was barely one year old. However, it wasn’t until she applied for a passport at age forty that my mom discovered she was an undocumented citizen. With two teen-aged daughters, thankfully she was able to gain US citizenship and avoid deportation. From my perspective, this moment was only the beginning of the journey into her past.

Merlyn was a singer in the 1960’s who was noticed by a record executive’s daughter at her High School talent show. At only sixteen years old, she was invited to NYC to audition for ABC Paramount and immediately signed a record contract under the name Mer-Lyn. A national tour followed to promote her debut record, Promise. She made appearances on The Shindig! National Tour, Ed Hurst’s Steel Pier Show, American Bandstand, The Johnny Carson Show, and frequently performed at the 500 Club in Atlantic City. Mer-Lyn retired from her singing career at age 23 to start a family in Cleveland, Ohio. Shortly after, the 500 Club burned down along with many of her belongings. She rarely spoke of her singing days on the Atlantic City Boardwalk during the 1960’s. Like a detective searching for clues, the mystery unfolds and presents itself through objects, music, newspaper articles, and photographs. This is the untold story of Mer-Lyn’s past life as seen through the lens of her daughter, Mallorie.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

I am a multi-disciplinary visual artist who frequently uses materials that break down over time, creating a sense of vulnerability and fragility. My journey to this point has been non-linear with many starts, stops, and forks along the path. I attended the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and the Cleveland Institute of Art, but consider myself mostly self-taught. Not wanting to set limitations on the process has led me to explore unconventional methods. Using materials such as hair, found objects, and chocolate, I create installations that provide a full-sensory experience that is grotesquely beautiful, melancholic and humorous. The goal is not to sell a product, but rather an experience to share with others and to provide healing For
My creative practice allows for expression of my inner worlds through visual storytelling. Inspired by my immediate surroundings, I take action upon my curiosity by using whatever medium the project calls for. One of the forks along my path was choosing to go to cosmetology school. Even though I did not acquire a license to pursue a career in the field, the knowledge that I attained has informed my studio practices.

It has become increasingly common to find pieces of hair weaves on the side of the road, tumbling around in parking lots, and peeking out from cracks in the sidewalk. During the summer of 2011, I saw “tumble weaves” almost daily while riding my bicycle. I collected the discarded wefts from the street, inked them up, and ran them through a printing press to create a series of monoprints. The outcome inspired me to experiment with loose synthetic hair for braiding and wefts intended for hair extensions as a sculptural element.
Using the techniques learned in cosmetology school, I shape loose tresses of synthetic hair into words and sew them onto antique textiles and doilies to produce text works. In other instances, long strands are braided and woven together to create textiles intended for display on walls, ceilings, and floors.

I am most proud of the work created for a project titled, Rooms to Let. Artists were selected to create installation-based works that spoke to the housing crisis and were produced inside foreclosed, abandoned homes that were slated for demolition. From the statement for my piece:

Real estate agents sometimes bake brownies or chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen before showing a house to make potential buyers feel at home. Cambridge neuroscientist Adrian Owen said: “Both smelling and eating chocolate activates areas of the brain that are known to be involved in creating feelings of pleasure.”
My installation for Rooms to Let poked at the idea of “sugar coating”. I enveloped the surfaces and walls of an abandoned kitchen in a layer of colorful chocolate. The candy-coated walls dripped with sweetness, evoking the hues of salt-water taffy on the beach. Over 800 colored chocolates were hand-cast in the shape of teapots, spoons, kitchen utensils, keys, telephones, pizza slices, and other items commonly found inside of a home. They were used to tile the counters, cupboards and walls, and melted chocolate was used as the “grout”. Viewers were greeted by a sensory overload via the overwhelming smell of chocolate and brightly colored visuals inside of a space that is no longer considered home sweet home.

Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?

I mentioned in an earlier question that a fork in the road along my journey was a decision to go to cosmetology school. At the time I was living in Portland, Oregon and thought it would be a more lucrative way to support myself and my (now ex) husband. My studio practice was on hold as I worked a day job at a gallery and went to beauty school at night. A few months before graduation, I found that my husband had irreparably damaged the marriage. I drove half way across the country back home to Ohio, moved in with my sister, and filed for divorce. I completed the last few months of school in Ohio but I knew it was no longer a part of my career path. Years later, the skills I learned in cosmetology school became techniques used in my creative process. I do not view the time spent in cosmetology school as wasted moments or unfinished business. It was a time of empowerment in my life. Salons are safe spaces for women to connect, share their stories, and lift one another up.

What do you find most rewarding about being a creative?

The most rewarding aspect of being an artist for me is that I can take all of the challenges of daily life back to my studio to be transformed. All of the wins, loves, losses, struggles, words left unsaid, heartbreaks, magic moments, anxious thoughts, hopes, fears, and mysteries become inspiration. My studio is a place to explore, discover, experiment, make mistakes, be playful, get lost, and found. I can make it up as I go because there are no rules; only to show up and try again.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @malloriefreeman