Rachel Frank Really, the best way to see this show was to have attended the experimental dance production Elicit, for which Frank's sculptures provided one part of the set. "Bird-Headed Girl," a taxidermylike wall plaque, formed one side of a silent dialogue with dancers. "Falling Woman," a disturbingly lifelike (if spineless) embroidered doll lying among tulle, was splayed out in front of a movable wall that doubled as a projection screen. Still on display alongside Frank's stuffed-cloth sculptures are light installations created by James Woodfill for the performance. Called "Anchors" and "Spinner," these works created light in motion for the dancers. Unsettling at first, the lights became part of the dancers' movements and now can be studied on their own. What remains of the performance is on view through Saturday, Oct. 16, at the Fahrenheit, 1717 W. 9th St., 816-474-5477.
Sloppy Slobbering Monster There's nothing funny about a skinned cat -- unless it comes with a plaque that says "Pookie" and a motion-sensitive contraption that gets the cat's mandibular joint moving in time to slow, prerecorded semifeline utterances. Created by artists from large and midsized cities -- Houston, Atlanta, Pittsburgh, Kansas City, Little Rock -- the work in Sloppy Slobbery Monster plays with the theme of monsters in a way that is colorful, silly and occasionally gross. There's a huge sculpture of a cartoonish face with a tree-branch-sized pencil plunging straight into one eyeball and a small installation made strictly of Nintendo games and Super Mario Brothers references. One of the best series in the show is also one of the most simple: a set of enlarged, hand-embroidered Lacoste logos. Reminding viewers that the cute, preppy logos actually depict scary, sharp-toothed creatures, the artist plays with all of our memories, subverting our nostalgia and at the same time, appealing to it. Be sure and pick up a price list at this show, if only to read the titles of the pieces. Part of what unites these second-city artists is a laid-back, non-hoity-toity attitude. As evidence, see "Untitled (Artist broke into house for sale and did painting on wall and floor)" and "I Can't Remember the Title of This One, So Call It Whatever You Want." On display noon to 3 p.m. Thursdays and Saturdays through October 23 at the Bank, 11th and Baltimore. (G.K.)
The Strange and the Fantastic If NBC ever decides to bring back Freaks and Geeks, a show set in 1980 that follows the tribulations of social misfits at a Michigan high school (unfortunately, it was canceled after its first season), its producers should add an artsy character and hire Kris Kuksi to create that character's artwork. Kuksi's paintings, drawings, collages and sculpture are the perfect combination of freakiness and geekiness -- his technically adept work looks as though it could grace the cover of a '70s rock album or a fantasy trading-card game. "Song for Irina," for example, re-creates the creepy feel of an old-timey black-and-white photograph in which the subjects had to sit still for several minutes in order for the film to register an image. Yet here, Kuksi has drawn a woman's head on a skeleton wearing an elaborate headdress of fur or feathers. The woman's eyes are half-closed and shrouded in a dark, charcoal shadow, and her lips are slightly curved into a Mona Lisa half smile. Through Oct. 30 at the Leedy-Voulkos Art Center Back Room Gallery, 2012 Baltimore, 816-474-1919. (T.B.)
Thunderheads, Fronts and Collisions Ted Kincaid's digital photographs are part fact, part fiction. Combining bits and pieces from photographs of many real skies, then jacking with the colors, Kincaid creates skies that are not only fake but also totally insane looking. The cloud formations -- strange combination of skinny, stretched out lines and round cotton ball clusters -- are unnatural, maybe even impossible. The colors come just close enough to appearing realistic that the viewer gets a sense of what the weather might be like in the photos. The green skies are reminiscent of what happens before a tornado, but this particular shade of green - a dark, army green - doesn't overtake the sky even when a twister's coming. These fantastically eerie photographs are pieced together in a way that makes them look kind of like holograms when you hold them at the perfect angle to catch them between images. What we don't know about is the gallery's claim that creating photographic fictions is, in and of itself, edgy -- that's done every time a fashion model gets a zit. But then, these particular photographs don't appear to demand edginess in the first place. Through October 23 at the Society for Contemporary Photography, 2012 Baltimore. (G.K.)
Women Are Beautiful Garry Winogrand walked around with his 35-mm handheld Leica, shooting photographs of unsuspecting women at parties, lounging in parks and walking down busy city streets. Eighty-five of those photographs make up the Women Are Beautiful portfolio, which is on display in its entirety in the Kemper Meeting Room. Despite a bit of T&A, this show is no Girls Gone Wild. In most cases, Winogrand's subjects are unposed and at ease, unaware of the camera. These pictures share more similarities with snapshots than with portraits; the compositions have unusual angles and a quickly executed feel. Audience reaction to this not quite politically correct exhibition has been mixed; check out the comment book to read such gems as "Interesting that he could have photographed so many women's breasts with out their permission and not be decked by their boyfriends. Or was he?" Through Oct. 24 at the Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art, 4420 Warwick, 816-753-5784. (T.B.)