John Hartley
Nancy Lamb
Matthew Bourbon
Thedra Culler-Ledford
Whitney Riley
Bill Davenport
Kelly Klaasmeyer
Donna Huanca
Tim Stokes
Nancy O'Connor
Anderson Wrangle
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The blood red of a velvet cloth is an accomplice to arousal, never an inert companion
to one waiting, watching or wanting. Red Velvet embodies a reevaluation of tranquility
from a notoriously fleeting state into an internal harmony in the face of superficial strife.
We are not afraid of sex and violence, loneliness and fear. Our most familiar and universal
environment- the home- brings a vibrant reality to these paintings and installations while
maintaining a façade of populism, and comfortable with it. Fragmented everyday references
are expressed through images and materials; the inverse of Blue Velvet, which sought to
insert a new, horrific image into the world of the white picket fence. The 1986 film by
David Lynch takes the cleanliness of the American dream as nothing but a cover for
violence and vulgar eroticism. He breaks down his characters, emotionally and physically
beaten into submission. No one here desires to lay themselves naked; they are in complete
control of their opportunities as artists.
Though their traditional materials anticipate a certain conservatism, several artists in
Red Velvet expose new forms and concepts with their unique perspectives. The recent
paintings of John Hartley play with broken tin soldiers, their fractured figures are a self-
discourse through private references. Dallas writer Charissa Terranova remarks; “[he]
interrogates a society that promotes war as a plaything, as a pastime for children’s recess
hour.” Left incomplete or amended with prosthetic limbs, Hartley’s soldiers activate one’s
opinions actively. Nancy Lamb disturbs the serenity of her interiors by twisting her
perspectives through imaginary lenses. She constructs social scenes, cropping strongly into
figures. Nothing seems immediately disturbing besides one’s viewpoint, but with a strong use
of distorted linear perspective and expressive exaggeration the artist keeps the viewer from
ever feeling comfortable. This discomfort extends to the painting’s inhabitants- you can tell
something is wrong, but it’s tough to put your finger on it. The distressed images by Matthew
Bourbon have a hip patina and snapshot imagery. Taken from photographs, they have a
flatness accentuated by the camera. Inventive colored lines and energetic textural patterning in
Bourbon’s intimate situations become disjointed narratives, but his style works with a confident
swagger. Thedra Culler-Ledford sexualizes Japanese kimonos with printed images of American
pin-up girls and consumer culture.
Strict traditions pose a hurdle to reinterpretation and as the artist has taken her subject to
American mores she violates two cultures at once, with a fashionable and scandalous motif.
These works invoke the Pattern and Decoration movement and embrace empowerment
through a new feminism, a far cry from Betty Friedan’s declaration; “the real enemy is women's
denigration of themselves.” Whitney Riley illustrates her critique of objectification through
paintings of swimsuit models in domestic settings. Whether peeling potatoes or planting in the
garden, Riley’s girls never break a sweat. These collaged images skew perspective slightly,
hinting at a metaphoric disturbance. As American expectations of women have evolved
contradictions have deepened in the face of feminist advances. Equal pay may be closer today
than ever, but we have removed ourselves from reality even further- today a woman must be a
sex object and a nurturer.
Several artists in Red Velvet attack tradition by simulating the real world and the art world
through humor and irreverence. Bill Davenport has focused his conceptual work of late upon
fake stone and wood. In installations the artist constructs interior spaces out of foamcore,
these contrived walls, supports and structures juxtaposing the cleanliness of the white gallery
with an imitation of reality. Davenport’s sporting take on life and art delights in objects for
themselves, an in-joke with many layers of contradictory references. New mother (and artist
and writer to boot) Kelly Klaasmeyer’s proximity to the materiel of childcare has intensely
altered her view on the world. She presents Huggies and Boudreaux’s Butt Paste, hand
painted oversized cardboard boxes of consumer products. Klaasmeyer dryly twists humor
out of these amusing titled and images; the transformative process of rearing a child
compliments the artist’s Pop sensibilities with easy targets for manipulation. Working with
felt, fabric and found objects, Donna Huanca balances her creations between family portraits
and characters of her own imagination. Made up of layers of color, her non-traditional materials
make up complex objects, figures and backgrounds. Her murals are jarring to the viewer; these
fractured figures are nearly abstract except for detailed and recognizable faces. Their personal
meanings cohabitate with her father’s role in the Bolivian military pursuing Che Guevara
through the Andes and Huanca’s identification with both sides. These narratives are proper
fuel for her rash, bursting compositions.
Installation work broadens the traditional definitions of sculpture and painting, and the results
are tied strongly to a strong identification with reality. The intricate and exacting work of
Tim Stokes transforms domestic tranquility into horrific examinations; he works with furniture,
interiors, industrial and specialized devices and lighting to reimagine homes as dramatic
settings for a play on fear and safety. Stokes constructs hybrid machines, engaging a familiarity
that makes his surreal scenarios even more frightening. Nancy O’Connor uses photography,
sound, objects, and video to encompass the viewer in an environmental experience. Here her
living room scenario and video work invite visitors to examine personal objects, which personify
their late owners in her installations. With collaborator Michele Grinstead, O’Connor has created
works from the detritus left behind in abandoned homes. She reconstructs the lives of their
former owners, reconciling their viewers’ mind with life’s trajectory. In recent work photographer
Anderson Wrangle filters images of death through digital processes. A drawing of a skull rests in
view of a video camera, with a second skull image on the viewfinder and a third on an adjacent
television. Atop the TV sits a plate of pears, fruit a popular symbol for death. Another layer of
mediation, this photograph is still unable to diminish the issue we all inevitably face.
The case for domestic tranquility’s existence is a precarious one, as these and many other
artists demonstrate, perhaps the solution is in the admittance of discord into the expected
solution. The artists exhibiting here at Vine Street are aware of their distance from reality;
they find worth in their materials and images regardless of their purity in morality and
tradition. Reversing a comment about Blue Velvet, perhaps here in Red Velvet we have a
pragmatic reconciliation; harmony without quiet, serenity sans silence. “This is not American
darkness; --- this is lightness without a happy ending.”
-Sean Morrissey Carroll
Red Velvet is the third installment of The Focus Series
Special Thanks to .Margaret and Fletcher Thorne-Thomson
Red Velvet at
Vine Street Studios
1113 Vine Street
Houston, Texas 77002
Work on view through August 18, 2007
Monday through Friday 10:30 am - 5 pm
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