Rugs that hook you
Hannah Epstein’s riotous exhibition at Steve Turner may bring back memories of hours spent with latch hook rug kits — those ready-toassemble crafts that, strand by strand, formed a fuzzy image of a cheery rainbow, heart or “Sesame Street” character.
The Canadian artist’s hooked rugs, however, are the bad sister-in-laws of those anodyne projects. “Monster World” assembles shaggy, snarling, off-kilter beasts that have more to do with alternative comics, cartoons and Internet culture than they do with sweetness and light. Strewn across a wall, they are the underbelly of cute, the id of the home crafter.
There are cats. “Mouser” is a cat’s face, nearly 5 feet tall, hooked in a wild combination of yarns that manages to feel colorful and dingy. The mouth is stretched into a gleeful, toothy grin, toeing the line between cheer and evil.
“The Hybrid Kid” depicts a creature with moth-like antennae and five eyes. Huddled in a protective posture, but grinning maniacally through its pain, one of its arms appears to be a snake, or perhaps it’s wearing a sock puppet. It’s sweet; the monstrousness sneaks up on you.
Also cute is the multi-colored, griffin-like animal in “Eats Its Young” choking down a smaller version of itself. On its belly, as if in X-ray vision, we see a tiny, staring face. It’s not exactly an image of maternal solicitude.
Epstein’s use of the hooked rug invokes hours of repetitious labor spent following a pattern. Such activities may be fun, but they’re also designed to keep girls’ hands busy.
In creating her own patterns, Epstein has twisted the hooked rug into something not only novel but also appealing — even joyful. It feels honest, capturing the craziness, the violence, the screaming fury of our day. Anger is held in tension with cuteness, sweetness, fuzziness. These are the hooked rugs we might have made had we the nerve to burst out of our skins.