THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, January 15, 1995 TAG: 9501120179
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 12 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: Mary Ellen Riddle
LENGTH: Medium: 91 lines
In a few months, Moss Dix will reach into a drawer and lift out an old oval tablecloth. Carefully she'll unfold the 1950s relic dotted with confetti, ribbons and birthday packages.
The yellow, pale pink and blue cotton fabric will play a special role at her son, John Carlos', first birthday party. It was used for Dix and her siblings year after year.
That cloth contains many of the elements present in the work of the 39-year-old Kill Devil Hills artist. Orderly borders are mixed with individual symbols cloaked in a safe, holiday kind of world - the oh-so-perfect world of the 1950s. At least as far as Moss Dix, and Dick and Jane of those 1950s readers, were concerned.
Dix appreciates her roots, growing up in Virginia as the daughter of a gentleman farmer. She remembers reading those 1950s texts complete with perfectly manicured children, fancy cars and the perfect little pet.
But folded among the memories of birthday rituals, old barns, farm-sized gardens and grandmother next door are incidents not so perfect: Dix's near-drowning at age 3, her father's suicide when she was 13, and growing up in an atmosphere where one did not speak of anything unpleasant.
Dix says no one knew her father was in conflict. ``My mom was away. It was just bizarre,'' she said. ``We waited hours and hours just wondering how did he die, what happened? Hundreds of people came to the funeral. My great aunt, who adored my father, never spoke of him again.''
Her art unmasks the unspoken while cloaked in humor with brilliant colors flying. Meticulous, orderly pencil drawings, dark shadow boxes, word-play collages, and vivid colored renderings with 3-D fish leaping from handcrafted frames boldly lay bare that which has been hushed.
In a black shadow box series, including ``My Dad Had A Gun Like That One,'' harmless linear bunnies with targets stamped over them, BBs spilled in the bottom of the box and the drawing of a gun are skillfully juxtaposed. These tense, visual dramas vibrate as humor bubbles around hard-core reality. It's therapy, says Dix.
In her pencil drawing ``They'll Always Tell You He's Harmless,'' Dix works through an actual experience with a peeping Tom. It took her more than 150 hours to complete the drawing, with Dix working for half an hour on just one tiny piece of fruit in a bowl on a kitchen table. A female figure is present in the '50s-style kitchen, but only the clothed torso is visible. Outside, from the left-hand corner, peers the voyeur.
Perhaps the coup de grace among Dix's pencil works is another piece that works through a personal conflict.
The drawing's central theme portrays a figure from the past shown as indulgent, mercurial and manipulative, yet out of control. Present are those check borders, manicured shrubs and two fragile paper dolls clutching one another for dear life, while the main figure pulls them toward her.
Mexican fabric patterns border the right side with the names of a husband and wife carefully stitched in with Dix's pencils. While the work is filled with conflict, it also contains resolution.
``They are kind of illustrations of moments,'' said Dix.
In her collages, 1950s illustrations torn from children's books are coupled with actual stitchery, penciled patterns and phrases. ``I'll smudge a lot and erase away, kind of draw with my eraser,'' she said. ``It's so vague, you really have to kind of look for it, or maybe it slowly appears after a while.
``I've collected old children's books for years, especially health books,'' says Dix. ``There are all kinds of little gems in those books.''
The stitchery is a holdover from her formal art training. Dix received a bachelor of fine arts degree from Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond. Her focus was textile design, fabric painting and jewelry making. While she still expresses herself in fabric, she finds drawing and collages more immediately satisfying.
``I've done weaving, basket-making, paper-making, felt - just all the various textile techniques,'' Dix said. ``But what most interested me was fabric printing.
``(But) I think eventually I thought it was easier to either draw or paint. I just got bogged down with the process.''
Dix says her work could be classified as social commentary with a sense of humor. ``In a way it's kind of making fun of what we grew up with,'' she said. ``I really like word play.''
``Older Twin Sister'' comes from her memory of having to dress exactly like a sister who was two years older than Dix. ``Milk Punishment,'' she says, is about ``When we were growing up and forced to drink milk.''
Moss Dix's childhood, like many, was not perfect, but her drawings come as close as one can get. As she joins conflict and humor with masterful strokes, she becomes the loving caretaker of memories, happy and sad. ILLUSTRATION: Photo by MARY ELLEN RIDDLE
Kill Devil Hills artist Moss Dix works through life's trials in her
tongue-in-cheek drawings.
by CNB