Art Capsule Reviews

The Brainsex Showdown Squatting in the Kansas City Art Institute's new Crossroads digs, printmaking students perform that moving rite of passage: showing off their cool stuff. KCAI instructors Jes Owings, James Woodfill and Oz McGuire curate a department show that, Owings says, explores the "distinction between merchandise and fine art." So, Megan Rains' "Pillow" speaks to our eternal teen angst, with unframed color photographs documenting a Barbie doll's life in turmoil — she catches the heroine in the act of mushy soap-opera weeping, always with the ever-faithful pillow. Another Rains piece, the wonderfully fractured "Self-Study Triptych," presents the artist's image in broken Styrofoam pieces. Greg Daiker's "Bam," an illustration of bombing, crashing planes, presents war as a simple and horrific act of anonymous aggression. Finally, the student-run "bizarre bazaar" of books, stuffed animals, T-shirts and other items lets us ponder the commerce-art dichotomy more personally. Like the youth exhibited here, the show ends soon. Through Nov. 20 at the Kansas City Art Institute Crossroads Gallery, 1908 Main, 816-802-3622. (R.T.B.)

Charlotte Street Foundation The Charlotte Street Foundation awards show isn't your average group show, lumping together somewhat disparate artists with a theme or linking their work by period or subject. Instead, the CSF artists whose work hangs together at Johnson County Community College's Gallery of Art share something else: recognition and the funding that comes with it. This year's award winners include Craig Subler, who comments on the experience of viewing art by rendering works that question how people participate in museums and galleries; looking at his pieces makes us worry that we're in danger of becoming his next victim. Miles Neidinger's Maelstrom of Reflections is an enormous installation made from sheets of foil; in Neidinger's skillful hands, the lowly sandwich wrap evokes Frank Gehry's undulating architecture. Max Key thinks big, too, with wall-sized paintings that are dark, decorative and gothic. (Look closely for patterns that echo those of origami, silhouette portraits and botanical prints.) Sean Ward, on the other hand, doesn't do pretty. His paintings of Halloween masks and claws are pretty funny, though. And it's hard not to want to touch Callyann Casteel's soft sculptures, assemblages of hands, chains and horns — they're on display here, but they're meant to be worn. Through Dec. 20 at the Johnson County Community College Gallery of Art (inside the Carlsen Center), 12345 College Blvd. in Overland Park, 913-469-8500, ext. 3972. (R.B.)Conclusion of the System of ThingsNadine Robinson's gallery-sized installation is big and loud, like a Hollywood movie, and the fog machine that's turned on when visitors enter the gallery only reinforces the cinematic spirit of the piece. With a bold, climactic soundtrack pouring from round speakers installed along a wall to reference the positions of figures in Michaelangelo's "Last Judgment," however, the piece happens to be quite understated in spite of all the melodrama (not to mention the apocalyptic title). When viewers look at what can only be called a painting of sound, they see a minimal, functional, symmetrical tableau. That it feels like a movie is mere trickery. After all, it's missing cinema's most obvious components: moving images on a screen. There are no characters, and there is no plot. All that remains are special effects signifying that stakes are rising, a journey is ending and emotions are accelerating toward a spectacular conclusion. Viewers are left to envision their own high stakes, epic voyages and scantily clad performers — that is, of course, until they read the gallery's brochure explaining the artist's intended meaning. We recommend picking up the brochure on the way out rather than on the way in. The artist's personal associations, though interesting and valid, complicate a piece that resists explanation, working best (in fact, brilliantly) on a purely sensory level. Through Dec. 17 at Grand Arts, 1819 Grand, 816-421-6887. (G.K.)

Exhibición de la arte de vida y muerte The Day of the Dead Festival is over. Gone is your chance to buy skull-shaped lollipops, refrigerator magnets and pens. No more can you enjoy funnel cake while watching lithe flamenco dancers stomp gracefully in high heels. But the art and ofrendas (or altars) at Mattie Rhodes Gallery are still on display, and art workshops continue for the duration of the exhibit. The most-publicized work is by famous Mexican artist Jorge R. Gutierrez, whose colorful, iconic posters of El Macho (or Macho Man) seem to have predicted the current trendiness of skull imagery. (His Web site has the best URL ever; at super-macho.com you can also see the artist's "manimation.") Other pieces of wall art worth the visit are Xerox-transfer skull prints on big, heavy stone tablets and layered, comic-book style Day of the Dead stories. But a window installation is our favorite part. Dirt covers the window sill, and a grave awaits an unglazed clay coffin carried by a procession of unglazed clay skeletons. Through Nov. 19 at Mattie Rhodes Gallery, 919 W. 17th St., 816-221-2349. (G.K.)

Married to Adventure Before loaded terms such as "multiculturalism" came along to institutionalize a basic desire to understand other people, Osa Johnson and her husband, Martin, just got in a plane and lived the idea, completely unself-consciously. The two Kansans traveled to parts of the world that scared the bejesus out of most Americans in the early part of the 20th century. Their still and moving footage of indigenous civilizations was later used in popular silent films — and in at least one instance, they returned to those locales to screen a film for the people who had appeared in it. The exhibit at the Kansas City Museum shows photographs and film reels as well as special editions of Osa Johnson's best-selling autobiography, I Married Adventure, printed with zebra-striped covers. Especially awe-inspiring is the photo, shot from a plane, of stampeding giraffes. Osa Johnson = total badass. Through Jan. 8 at the Kansas City Museum, 3218 Gladstone Blvd., 816-460-2020. (G.K.)