Review

"Subtle Splendor", Encaustic on Panel.

Cheryl Toh

Noon-5 p.m.

Locust Studio
504 E. 18th
Kansas City, MO

Last day of holiday show.

Artist's site: http://www.cheryltoh.com

Funny thing happened on the way to the pontification.

When I first sat down to write about Cheryl Toh's art, and specifically her part of this weekend's holiday group show at Locust Studio, I had in mind to focus on the way encaustic paintings almost hoard light -- taking it in and storing it within translucent layers of pigmented beeswax, so that the works seem to glow under their own power.

I wanted to write about the way Toh's abstract style and use of mixed-media elements, combined with encaustic's light-storing properties, produce works -- such as today's featured piece, Subtle Splendor -- that, as the painting's title suggests, are both soothing and stirring.

There would be a mention of the other artists in the show: Paul Mallory, Michael Baxley, Owl and Mouse  Textile Designs and Kaden Myers, along with a reminder that today is the show's final day. (And here they are. Some plans don't change.)

But a couple of things kept throwing me. One is that Toh's portion of the show also includes prints, which can't be treated as second-class citizens. The other is that Toh's statements on her work have little to do with light and everything to do with ... well, here. Read for yourself.

My work stems from a fascination with communication. How a simple phrase, tone of voice, or a seemingly small gesture often gives way to something which is implied yet unspoken. For many, the subtlety of communication can be confounding and as complicated as our exchanges can be. We have added layers of technology, which seem to muddle things even more. Bringing up the questions: how can we keep from stumbling with language and how do we know when we’ve gotten it right?

Since I was a child, I have been intrigued by how those around us influence interpersonal exchanges and social dynamics. Censoring ourselves (and each other) in public, the whispered secrets we share in private, finding ourselves at a loss for words — all stem from who is around us at the time. In addition, we regularly turn to one another for help in deciphering what is really being said. Regardless of whether we meet in person or not, it’s seldom about the exact words exchanged but more about the impressions and feelings we experience.

My work is about creating a subtle feeling, something that is at the same time elusive yet quite familiar.

See how that could force a writer off his chosen track?

But when one thinks of art as a form of nonverbal communication between creator and viewer, it makes sense. Every act of artistic creation is also an act of self-control, presenting the artist with the challenge of expressing a vision without "saying" too much and spoiling the effect with too much information.

And where there is communication, there also exists the chance -- or, rather, the likelihood -- that the message received will be different, whether slightly or drastically, from the one which was sent. The work, especially an abstract work, is the constant; the viewer is the variable.

All of which is to say that Toh has figured out -- and beautifully so -- the balance between revelation and concealment. Her works draw the eye immediately, but don't give up all of their secrets at once. Long and repeated viewings (true communication between the viewer and the viewed) are rewarded with depth of detail ... and with the subtle interplays between Toh's chosen media and the light they reflect, refract, store and release.