Art Capsule Reviews

Blue Gallery Without a theme to hold together the works on display here, the thing that unifies this show is the taste of gallery owners Kelly and David Kuhn. We gravitate toward the work by Joe Ramiro Garcia and Rich Bowman. Ramiro Garcia's painting "Helpless" might have spoken more loudly to us than usual because of the fast-approaching tax season. In it, a painted page from a ledger book details one man's finances and is blotted out here and there by a beautiful, errant flower; subtly squeezed into the lower right-hand corner, in the same writing used to log expenses, is a note-to-self: Ask for help. Meanwhile, Bowman's orangey paintings somehow manage to convey that they are landscapes and cityscapes at sundown, in spite of the fact that they involve very few markings. They are so minimal that they verge on abstraction. Works by several other artists represented by the Blue Gallery are also on display at 9 W. 19th St., 816-527-0823. (G.K.)

From Bingham to Benton, Midwest as Muse Those of us who grew up around here have seen paintings by Thomas Hart Benton and company from such an early age, and on such abysmally boring field trips, that the artists' work constitutes -- for us -- the visual equivalent of white noise. Incredibly, this exhibit could change that. George Caleb Bingham's "The Jolly Flatboatmen" alone would be worth the visit. Created in 1847, the painting enraged New York art appreciators for two reasons. First, the boatmen on the river playing fiddles, drinking and dancing were viewed as lowly commoners unworthy of a portrait. Second, the tranquil float scene did not cater to New Yorkers' fantasies of life in the wild, wild West. It's kind of like how, when you head to the coasts, people feel gypped that the only Kansan they know can't milk a cow. On display through July 31 at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, 4525 Oak, 816-751-1278. (G.K.)

Meredith Burton: New Drawings Meredith Burton's adventures in magic-marker art continue, having debuted at the Telephone Booth last summer. Now her fruit-scented scenes (we don't know if she uses scented magic markers, but we like to pretend) are more elaborate and take greater advantage of the medium. Cityscapes are adorned with tattoolike wreath designs that yank the viewer's attention away from the scene itself. Looking at a drawing of a power line intersecting with a marquee or billboard, the viewer's eye will settle on that point of intersection, so Burton plops her decorative stylings on the middle of the power line itself, just where it begins to recede into the background. It seems she has started playing a lighthearted game of visual tug-of-war with her audience. And really, once you've chosen markers as your medium, why not? Now showing in the Cup and Saucer restaurant (not the bar next door) at 412 Delaware, 816-474-7375. (G.K.)

Go to Italy! Cobi Newton doesn't really want you to go to Italy. Her stated goal is to create -- using colors and design -- the feeling we get from daydreams of running away to the old boot-shaped country. Which is funny, because at first glance, the streamlined sensibilities of her work did not create that feeling for us at all. That might be because when we think of Italy, we imagine rolling hills, classical music, everything cooked in olive oil, jaw-droppingly beautiful people running around barefoot in the gentle sun and ... we digress. The point is, Newton's work pushed our thinking in another direction, reminding us that Italy also contains cities like Milan -- bustling, high-fashion places full of glamour and couture and window displays. The enameled, slightly curving lines in unlikely yet enticing color combinations (not unlike the mouth-watering palette contained in a bowl of spumoni) jump from one canvas to another before branching this way and that. They're like maps of foreign cities, with the unfamiliar public transit routes and networks of streets that look -- before you have actually walked through them -- an awful lot like abstract art. Through April 30 at the Jan Weiner Gallery, 4800 Liberty, by appointment only. Call 816-931-8755. (G.K.)

Teresa Hubbard and Alexander Birchler: Editing the Dark Not a lot transpires in these three video installations by Kemper visiting artists Teresa Hubbard and Alexander Birchler, but it's what doesn't happen that makes them so unsettling. In Eight, a little girl in a pink party frock surveys the remains of an outdoor gathering in the rain. Plates of half-eaten food turn soggy, and she cuts herself a slice of cake. Inside, she's dry, clad in the same dress and looking out a window. The video plays in a loop, so the viewer is left to wonder if she's crying about a ruined party or about something else. Single Wide raises another set of unanswered questions. A woman destroys a trailer by driving into it with her truck. As the camera pans through the trailer's rooms, the sounds -- a ringing phone, a ticking clock, the drip-drop of a leaky faucet, a nearby train -- have a haunting quality that's as eerie as Hubbard and Birchler's stories. Through May 15 at the Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art, 4420 Warwick Blvd., 816-753-5784. (R.B.)