“When you’re looked at as an otherworldly thing in a small town, it can be very isolating,” says Ezra, 22.

“You stand out already for being queer, so our way to deal with that is to stand out even more. We also like the odd, so that’s where the aliens come in.”

Self-care for Aliens is the first joint art exhibition by the Dunedin-born siblings. Photo / Dean Purcell

The exhibition features a series of “fantastical self-portraits” made from digital collages and then screenprinted onto fabric, using lipstick, eyeshadow and bronzer to add jangling slashes of colour.

To crowdsource supplies, the pair put out a call on Instagram for donations of fabric and makeup, supplemented by dozens of $2 lipsticks in startling shades of purple, orange, green, red and blue.

”Look Sharp saw a lot of me,” says Natasha, who played with the screenprinting process to create an almost ghost-like effect, repurposing some of the fabric from items of her own clothing.

“It’s very experimental in a way that makes it quite unpredictable, but I kind of embraced that. I think part of our process is just letting the subconscious go crazy.

“We both work in digital photographic collages but have very different practices and get very different results.”

Both Ezra and Natasha studied at the Dunedin School of Art. With Natasha now in Auckland, doing a Master of Visual Arts at AUT, Self-Care for Aliens involved a lot of long-distance collaboration.

Mothership (2025) is a mass installation of images screenprinted on to fabric using clear ink, eyeshadow and lipstick. Photo / Dean Purcell

The centrepiece, titled Mothership, brings together some 40 separate elements, but the two artists have solo works in the exhibition, too.

A sculptural assemblage near the entrance to the gallery, made by Ezra, incorporates distorted black-and-white self-portraits and a mannequin head.

Mounting the show has been an emotional experience for them both.

“When I look at the work that I’ve made and that Natasha has made, I see a lot of hurt represented in it,” says Ezra. “But it’s also a celebration of how far we’ve come.”

Natasha, who performed some rap poetry at the exhibition’s opening, was in her third year of art school when she came out as queer and non-binary. “It was obvious to everyone but me.”

By then, Ezra had already transitioned. “I always felt this otherness, that I wasn’t like everybody else. There’s a sense of having to hide who you are, and it takes a lot to overcome that.”

Makeup can be deployed as a disguise or to add a layer of self-protection. For Natasha, it’s helped her come to terms with living in a “super-male body”, expressing what she feels like inside.

“I hope trans people, or just alternative people in general, will be excited by all this stuff – and also be, like, ‘Damn, I’ve used that eye palette before ...‘”

"We both work in digital photographic collages," says Natasha Munro Hurn (left), "but have very different practices and get very different results." Photo / Dean Purcell

Depot curator and educator Heather Galbraith says the gallery has a strong focus on supporting emerging practitioners, and creative collaborations between siblings are relatively rare.

Initially unaware of Ezra and Natasha’s family connection, she found their proposal compelling as a platform for queer and trans voices, incorporating aspects of the punk DIY aesthetic.

“One of the reasons why we loved the project is that it’s developing a new language, bringing together different imagery from different stylistic tropes, as well as the different ways in which gender has been constructed and understood.

“We live in interesting and complicated times, and artists are often at the forefront of finding language for those experiences.”

In light of the recent rise in anti-trans activism, Galbraith was also impressed by what she describes as the exhibition’s sub-narrative of hope and autonomy. In February, protesters disrupted a drag science show for children at the Te Atatū library during Auckland’s Pride Festival.

On Monday, Depot hosted a small meet-up instigated by the community to mark International Transgender Day of Visibility, an annual event that’s been celebrated since 2009.

While appropriate precautions have been taken to ensure the gallery is a safe space, Galbraith is pleased to report there hasn’t been any negative feedback to the exhibition. “Not a peep.”

Joanna Wane is an award-winning senior lifestyle writer with a special interest in social issues and the arts.