“A Fine Line” by Monica Hoover at the Rubber Rose gallery is (thankfully) one of those rare moments that I have. Hoover walks a fine line in this exhibit that she could have easily crossed over or fallen into the abyss of kitschy commercialized imagery, satisfied with the highly charged and iconic voir patriotic and sometimes religious overtones her work sometimes conveys. But she doesn’t. The show is sublime, smart and woven together by a master storyteller who takes us on a voyage of urban legends and worldly aspirations.

Hoover has made her career as a freelance action sport industry photographer – or as she coined the phrase, a lifestyle photographer that might be to some the antithesis to high fashion glamour shoots. Fresh out of college several years back, she was hired to work for BLK/MRKT then run by Shepherd Fairey, Dave Kinsey and Phillip De Wolff. “They liked my work,” Hoover says unabashedly. Trust me, you’ll get used to Hoover’s honesty and clear thinking if you have the opportunity to talk with her, it’s rather infectious. More recently, she co-founded Voice 1156 gallery with fellow director Justin Ternes in San Diego in 2004. Hoover has also been part of Collabro, organized and curated by Poor Al, most notably in last year’s Collabro at the Anno Domini gallery in San Jose, California.

It is through these skills and experiences that Hoover I feel uses to orchestrate a wide range of imagery from the very sophisticated to the very banal through association, with the medium of photography as its base and all of its derivatives including serigraphy. It is interesting to note that serigraphy by today’s standards, is a rather old-school reproduction technique that has found a new life amongst a whole generation of underground and graffiti artists. It is also necessary for the rapid production of low-cost paraphernalia obligatory for any exposition these days - Marshall McLuhan was right, “the medium is the message".

So what is that message Hoover conveys in her work? It is as formal as it is random, it is as visceral as it is sensual, it is as innocent as it is brutal, and it is life as we experience it everyday and the fine line that separates us from one another and our chosen “lifestyle(s).” A choice obviously plays a role in anyone’s destiny (if you believe in such things), some have the luxury of making them – work, family, success, marriage, money et al – and others not so lucky as poverty, war, famine, religious zealots rain down upon their heads. What about those who make the choice to become a musician, a punk rocker, an artist, or those who choose to live an alternate lifestyle? And then just can’t quite “make it,” as they struggle to make ends meet as they watch their colleagues pass them by on to the road to fame and name recognition for no apparent reason other than they were “chosen.” What about those who live in La Jolla, Beverly Hills, Malibu or any number of posh enclaves of power, money and comfort? And what about Lt. Kinard who chose to go to Iraq but came back home without any legs; given the choice, would he not have preferred that the Hummer he was riding in avoid hitting the IED that took his legs?







Fate, chance, opportunity, networking - the power and strength in Hoover’s work resides in this seemingly opposing contrast of choices and circumstances and the dichotomies they impose. You might say we are a lot closer to one another than you might think; not exactly six degrees of separation, but more like parallel worlds co-existing that rub up against one another and jockey for position, surfacing into public view and/or dominance for brief moments like dolphins coming up for air. Just because we don’t see them, doesn’t mean that they don’t exist.



And so the adage goes, “a picture is worth a thousand words” and indeed it does. This is exactly why it is so difficult for this viewer to adequately express the depth and range in Hoover’s photographs, and the level of sophistication and keyed in perception she brings to their presentation both formally and intuitively. She knows this and uses it to her advantage. She knows how to capture the viewer’s attention, entertain them and then send them out the door with an altered sense of themselves and the world around them. She knows what buttons to push but uses that power selectively and intelligently – never too little and never too much, just enough pressure on the viewer’s psyche and “visual cortex” to coin fellow artist Yuransky’s call to activate it - and smart enough to let them decide for themselves what they’ve just witnessed. No brow beatings here. Impossible you say, tall order for any artist to do successfully, stuff of geniuses – perhaps. Or not, it’s a fine line. And this is the point of the show; take any one of Hoover’s photographs out of the context of its current placement, while quite remarkable they begin to lose the intent and reading they set out to convey. Does this mean that they’re not any good or that they can’t stand alone? – of course not. What it means is that these are individual word pictures that form sentences that create larger paragraphs that tell an even bigger story. Hoover is simply saying, “look what happens when I string all these words together.”

Never reactionary never sensationalist Hoover asks us what we think or feel when she does tell us the story. Do we cringe when we see an image of a young girl holding an M-16 in her hands, do we rejoice when we see a US soldier kneeling on one knee, praying, an M-16 pointed toward the heavens. How about a barrel of a .38 pointed directly at us – does it bring back the horrific video image of the VT gunman brandishing his? How about those lovely yin-yang gold shoes photographed on a beautifully upholstered tabouret? And how about that serigraph of a Hummer on a doily background or a portrait of a woman nude except for the suit jacket and tie she’s wearing? Or two women carrying suitcases down some lonely deserted highway? Or the tattooed knuckles that read UNARMED or that fistful of dollars – full of crisp Benjamins and plenty of them. Make money before I die. Or or or … this is the theatre in which Hoover operates. Can we be against something morally and ethically but sympathetic to the individuals involved in the struggle? Against a war but for its soldiers? Against drugs, sex and rock n’ roll, against rap music and the lyrics, but can still listen to the music? Real people in real situations – it’s a fine line. It could be about power as a friend of mine pointed out, in all its splendid glory or abuse, or it could be about a lot of things. I get what it means to me. You decide for yourself. Hoover is confident enough in her work to let us do so.







La pièce de résistance in Hoover’s exhibit however, is two photographs. The first, a cropped image of a Marine from the waist up to just below his lower lip, we see all of his torso in full military garb, medals and leather except for his right shoulder, standing at attention the American flag draped behind him – the image is framed. It is placed to the left of a second framed photograph, of a woman with only a suit jacket and a tie on with nothing underneath that is cropped similarly – except we see her full lips and head slightly cocked to the right towards the Marine. Her tie looking more like a noose lies flat and straight across her right breast. And voila! suddenly my interpretations start running wild – a model military, a military model, a model for the military, WMD’s, IED’s, IUD’s… this is the strength and beauty in Hoover’s work. Go experience it for yourself.

Kevin Freitas







A Fine Line
Documentary and lifestyle photography by: Monica Hoover

The Rubber Rose Gallery
3812 Ray Street
San Diego, CA 92104
619.296.7673

Exhibit runs through June 1st, 2007