I was looking for anything with a sinister undercurrent, says Volker Eisele, curator of Red Velvet. The title of the exhibit is a take on Blue Velvet, David Lynchs 1986 film depicting drugs and depravity lurking beneath a small-town façade. While the group show doesnt offer anything as disturbing as an amyl nitrite-huffing Dennis Hopper slapping around Isabella Rossellini while screaming, Mommy, mommy, baby wants to fuck! it does offer some cleverly ominous takes on domestic life.
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John Hartley paints hyperrealistic toy soldiers with prosthetics or missing limbs, an unsettling intermingling of real war and play war. Tim Stokess two installations feature all the items found in a typical room of a house (ones a bathroom, the other a dining area) packed into a tiny space and surrounded by flashing red lights. The effect is that it all looks like its about to explode, says Eisele. Nancy Lambs paintings of suburban cocktail parties have a Norman Rockwell look but the perspectives are skewed, with the focus on the floor, cutting subjects heads out of the picture. Theres a kind of vertigo to them, says Eisele. Its like [the subjects] are falling out of their own world.
Other work in show, sponsored by the Rudolph Projects ArtScan Gallery and happening at FotoFest during the photography hubs off-season, includes Whitney Rileys paintings of supermodels cutting celery and baking cookies, Thedra Culler-Ledfords kimonos made with pornographic fabric, and Houston Press writer Kelly Klaasmeyers oversize diaper and home pregnancy-test boxes. Well, there are times when a pregnancy test is as intimidating as a drug-crazed psychopath who beats and rapes people to Roy Orbison songs.