Ready or Not Review Studios' new home is a 51,000-square-foot compound at 17th Street and Campbell, and its drafty, industrial-looking exhibition space is the perfect backdrop for Archie Scott Gobber's wry social commentary. The gallery's inaugural show is a collection of just four of the artist's signature signs. "Art Is Workmanship" shows a billboard in progress; the titular phrase is divided into three panels to allow multiple interpretations. In the second piece, a multilayered work of gouache on paper and enamel on glass, the viewer sees only the bottom half of the word "JESUS" — the result is "jc dud." Next comes a tall, Eiffel Tower-like structure that spells "Perfecto" sideways down its front. In the last, 25 feet of stretched plastic lighted from behind boldly states: "I AM THE SHIT." If only all local artists said this with Gobber's knowing wink. Through May 19 at Review Exhibition Space, 1708 Campbell, 816-471-2343. (A.F.)
Spaces Between Leigh Salgado and Susan White each may have a touch of obsessive-compulsive disorder. Both artists manipulate fire — in all of its dangerous glory — to create beautiful, detailed drawings. One misstep, and a piece that's been hours in the making is reduced to trash. In Salgado's mixed-media work, there's a provocative interplay between the destructive qualities of the medium and the delicate, feminine nature of the work it produces. In some instances, lacy flutters of paper create lively shadows on the gallery's walls; in others, the cavities that Salgado burns into her pieces are more substantial and symbolic. (If you feel like you're undergoing ink-blot tests when you look at her pieces, you aren't completely off. She used to be an art therapist.) White, on the other hand, uses a wood-burning tool to create her recurring patterns, listening to fast-paced electronic music as she does so. The tension in her work comes from an insistent repetition — not only in the product but also in the process. Through May 26 at Greenlease Gallery (Rockhurst University, 54th St. and Troost), 816-501-4407. (A.F.)
Mette Tommerup and Squeak Carnwath Inspired by the Victorian era, Danish-born artist Mette Tommerup's old-fashioned pieces bring to mind children's fairy tales as reflected and transformed through a fun-house mirror. Tommerup uses digital technology to create delicate, detailed renderings that require careful scrutiny. Characters reveal themselves after a time — a small, sad boy looking forlornly through a window, for example, or two mischievous skeletons. (We're most impressed by "Woman" and "Arc," both printed on uniquely textured Japanese Kinwashi paper.) In the back gallery, Bay Area artist Squeak Carnwath's colorful painted tapestries suggest memories, as represented by seemingly unrelated symbols. The standing bunnies and other random objects within the grid of "Everyday," the vinyl records in "Recorded History," and the "guilt free zones" of both, hint at visual explorations of the mind. Through May 27 at Byron C. Cohen Gallery for Contemporary Art, 2020 Baltimore, 816-421-5665. (R.T.B.)
(Un)Redeemable Moments: Bobby Belote, Curt Bozif and Brian Zimmerman Of all the intriguing work on display at the Bank, Curt Bozif's obsessive pieces stay with the viewer like images branded on the brain. His preferred shape is the circle; in "To Mother's Escape," the center of a chalkboard is worn down in a circular shape to create a pile of dust on the chalk tray beneath it — a handmade sun over a handmade desert. "One Day" chronicles a 24-hour walk in one place on a rug. Thousands of ballpoint pen lines stacked on one another make "Lines for Micah" and "Every Lamb to Its Shepherds" appear as tapestries. Elsewhere are playful and sublime pieces by Brian Zimmerman, such as the hand-stamped roll of tickets in "Please Take One," allowing holders to "renounce," be "free" or "play." In "Oil and Water," a row of five rings attached to fishing lines are dropped into glasses of liquid again and again — the romantic devolving into the mundane. Through May 6 at the Bank, 11th St. and Baltimore, 816-221-5115. (R.T.B.)
Zealothrone Mindfield: Anthony Baab and Colin Leipelt In the wonderfully titled "Sky Is a Fossil for the Mountain Within It," Anthony Baab uses only pencil and colored tape to create an intriguing depiction of a mountain, doubled, with two concentric circles and neat draft lines vertically and horizontally breaking the plane. This and Baab's other work, "Baths," appear like blueprints from the mind of a mad architect. Unfortunately, one speaker was blown in Colin Leipelt's sound installation, "Abysmal Depths Are Flooded." The digital print "Torn into Enthrallment" at least appears to create sound waves broadcast from the tops of two geometric towers. Leipelt's pencil-on-blackboard paint skulls are dark, mysterious meditations on death (or something like it), and they make it clear that even skeletons age. Through May 6 at Paragraph, 23 East 12th Street, 816-221-5115. (R.T.B.)