CLANDESTINE CREEP SHOW
A review of Domestic Discomforts, work by Jennifer Boe, Leo Esquivel, and Meredith Host

Meredith Host, "Cavity Cups," porcelain, 2009, part of a three-person exhibition, "Domestic Discomforts," at the UMKC Gallery of Art, curated by Kati Toivanen, Art and Art History department chair and including Jennifer Boe and Leo Esquivel. Photo: T. Abeln
UMKC Gallery of Art
The University of Missouri-Kansas City
Kansas City, Missouri
February 25 — April 11 (extended)
Just as Alfred Hitchcock deftly crafted psychological thrillers through the exploitation of the seedy and gritty elements of the human condition, the artists whose work is on exhibition in Domestic Discomforts have created a similar eerie and haunting aura with cunning subtlety. Time-tested mediums such as embroidery and ceramics merge with less conventional art materials such as Styrofoam, blinding the viewer in a white-washed nightmare, of sorts.

Installation view of opening reception for "Domestic Discomforts," showing Host's "Residue Dinner Settings" along the table specially built to display them and Leo Esquivel's untitled sculptural painting hanging on the far wall behind. Photo: T. Abeln
Curator Kati Toivanen, department chair of Art and Art History at UMKC, has plucked three artists from the Kansas City area who complement each other particularly well. Each piece included in the show offers a distinct element of surprise. Viewers, however, must pay keen attention, or they could overlook the artist's intention entirely. It is for this reason that Domestic Discomforts is so enticingly uncomfortable. At first glance, the viewer may feel as if he or she has wandered upon a strange ode to mundane house wares. Cups and plates sit idly in neat little stacks, tapestries adorn the walls, and pillows with fresh sleepy-head indentions lay at rest on oversized pedestals. On closer inspection, the idiosyncrasy and horror shine through these strangely familiar items.

Meredith Host, "Residue Cup and Saucer Sets," porcelain, china paint, decal, and high-fired terracotta, 2010. Photo: T. Abeln
The cups are dirty: someone clearly has been sipping coffee from this mug and has forgotten to clean it out! Wait, what are those — mouse droppings on the saucers? Disgusting. This is exactly what ceramicist Meredith Host wants you to feel — a little disgusted. In actuality, the cups are perfectly clean and sanitary. They just look slightly filthy. Made entirely out of clay and glaze, Host's work straddles a line between placid domesticity and unkempt squalor. Some cups and bowls are pristine. Others are tarnished with the appearance of an unsightly stain or wad of hair. There are even brightly painted goblets ringed with ceramic molds of human teeth. It is through these types of microcosmic "shocks" that Host cleverly sends chills down the spine. The feeling is not created by an ideological hulking mass of terror, but rather the creepiness of slightly askew yet bitingly familiar territory.

Leo Esquivel, "Bottom Stair," oil on Styrofoam, Sheetrock mud, and enamel underbody, 2010. Photo: T. Abeln
The work of Leo Esquivel is complemented well by Host's upending creations. Esquivel's artifacts are similarly deceptive, not through execution, but rather through choice of medium. In each piece, Esquivel transforms rigid yet frighteningly fragile material into optical illusions. These presumably soft and cozy "pillows" and "sheet" are actually crafted from Styrofoam, drywall joint compound, primer, and paint. Additionally, the seemingly comfortable pillows are adorned with splotches of dirty-looking, almost bloody, imprints where the head of a nameless soporific person just fled the scene. Immediately, the audience is forced to raise questions about the mystery person's identity and the nature of their relationship with the piece. To trick the eye in such a way is clearly evident the meticulousness of Esquivel in working with such a disposable medium such as Styrofoam.

Leo Esquivel, detail from "Untitled," expanded metal lathe, Styrofoam, gypsum plaster, oil enamel underbody, and oil paint, 2010. Photo: T. Abeln

Jennifer Boe, detail from "She's No Angel," embroidery and Xerox transfer on flour sack, 2007. Photo: T. Abeln
Esquivel and Host alone are not interested in meticulous craftsmanship. Jennifer Boe, the third artist featured in Domestic Discomforts, uses a labor-intensive process to pay homage to one of the most fleeting mediums of artistic expression — food. She's No Angel features a broad canvas of stretched white linen with a humble subject lingers in the middle — a tuna fish sandwich. Accompanied by the appropriate graphic incarnation of Mrs. "Chicken-of-the-Sea," the sandwich represents the time and attention lavished upon certain culinary delights that simply vanishes when it is ultimately time to "use up" the work of art.

Jennifer Boe, detail from triptch "Immaculate Mary Full of Grace," embroidery on linen, 2005-06. Photo: T. Abeln
Boe continues to challenge the audience's conception of what is proper to love and worship with works such as Immaculate in which the visual vocabulary of traditional Catholic imagery is used to honor an uncanny subject — a vacuum cleaner. Flanked on either side by odes to the "holy" brush and floor attachments, the large-scale embroidered vacuum is bejeweled with stars, roses, and cupids that previously seemed only fitting for a saint or Jesus himself.

Jennifer Boe, detail from triptch "Immaculate Mary Full of Grace," embroidery on linen, 2005-06. Photo: T. Abeln
Through the elements of surprise, irony, and redirected attention, these three artists challenge the audience to examine not only their works with a discerning eye, but the entire world around us. They speak to the notion that true enlightenment can be found in the simplest of ideas. A stray hair in our teacup. The indention in our pillow. The taste of a well-made sandwich.
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Looks like a fantastic show! Thanks for the great review, since I won't get to actually see the exhibition.
Actually, we just learned it was extended to April 11. But that probably doesn't help out-of-towners much : )