Home invasion

Artists attack domestic myths

by Leon Nigrosh

FAIRYTALES OF DOMESTICITY

at the University Gallery, Clark University, through December 9.

If you think "Fairytales of Domesticity," which just opened at Clark University's University Gallery, sounds like a visit to Donna Reed's place, you're in for a rude awakening. This exhibition, which spotlights the work of five Massachusetts artists, is the total antithesis of those carefree-seeming days of Ozzie and Harriet and Father Knows Best. Each artist has transformed her specific area of the gallery into a world of domestic chaos -- posing questions about changing gender roles in current society and inviting viewers to participate in the discussion. The art objects themselves are in no way menacing. They all appear tranquil and even stately. It is their message, sometimes tongue-in-cheek, sometimes tender, but always unexpected, that gives these works their strength.

Occupying center stage in this show is Wishful Thinking by Meryl Hamilton. A quick glance and it appears to be a flowing, floor-length bridal gown, resplendent in white with silver accents. On closer examination it is only a dressmaker's dummy with strings stuck to it by common pins. And the beautifully spread-out fringe is made of hundreds of turkey wishbones. Suddenly the title begins to take on a multiplicity of meanings, depending largely upon the viewer's personal take on the subject of marriage. This piece is accompanied by a small wall-hung, illuminated, red metal box etched with the words, "In case of emergency, break glass." Of course if you actually take the attached eight-pound mallet and strike the box, the glass slipper inside will be destroyed.

Some people save string, some save tinfoil or rubber bands. Worcester's Nina Fletcher saves old clothes -- and balls them up into big spheres. Five Clothes Balls, Assorted sit quietly on the floor inviting closer examination. We discover that one all white globe is made up of cast-off nighties, stockings, and assorted lingerie. Another appears to be built of socks and T-shirts held together by a black-and-white polkadot swimsuit. Fletcher says that as a child she used to watch her mother knit balls of yarn into clothing and that now, as an artist, she's unraveling the clothes and returning them to their balls. But it's the three-foot diameter sphere, 10,000 Miles (You've Come A Long Way Baby) that engenders the most curiosity. This big ball is made up entirely of shoes -- not just your everyday high-heels, sandals, and flats, but silver slingbacks and a single prominently placed black pump with a four-inch brass stiletto heel. It makes you begin to wonder who wore this stuff, where, and more important, why.

Sarah Hutt has written a 1000-line poem, My Mother's Legacy, to express her feelings about the loss of her parent. She has actualized her verse by woodburning each line onto the bottom of 1000 wooden salad bowls. Two bins on display at Clark contain about 400 of these small bowls, and visitors are encouraged to rummage through the piles to read the words. Such phrases as "My mother watched her step," and "My mother thought Saltines were medicinal" give us insight to Hutt's recollections -- and also the sudden realization that many of these lines could be about our own mothers who also polished their toes, perhaps did headstands, and carried crayons in their purses.

Davis Bliss confounds us with her entry, Bounty, which consists of a half-dozen rolls of paper towel mounted at eye-level on the wall. Each roll has a different cutesy phrase printed on it ("Bless our happy home," etc.) or an image of a little tree bearing hearts for fruit -- corny stuff dreamed up by some hack in a windowless room somewhere as an odd decorative effort to market a throwaway product used to wipe up spilled coffee or a child's vomit. But Bliss elevates these mundane objects by painstakingly embroidering over the printed pictures, using the identical colors to produce magnificent images recalling the original fabric samplers from which these trite sales boosters were lifted.

Kathleen Bitetti inaugurated her Princess Project on the exhibit's opening night by appearing in front of her photographic essay as the fictional "Her Royal Highness Princess Sophia Solar Michalski" -- albeit, like her idol, the deceased Princess Diana, dressed in commoner's clothing. However, it is Bitetti's installation, Someday My Prince Will Come, that truly speaks to the princess myth still being foisted off on young girls. This white painted bed and night stand, complete with embroidered pillow and a music box that tinkles the title's Disney tune, seems innocent enough until we notice that the penned-in sleep area is completely festooned with nails. Words like biting, sarcastic, and poignant all leap to mind at once.

All of these projects are considered works in progress by the artists, who obsessively continue to add new elements to the existing pieces. They are still in flux -- just like the daily lives of all "Domestic Engineers."

The University Gallery, located on the ground floor of the Goddard Gallery, on Downing Street, is open Wednesday through Sunday from noon to 5 p.m. Call (508) 793-7113.