Art Capsule Reviews

Afternoon Delight Graffiti-inspired artist Jason Brunson presents colorful canvases that look more like creations born in alleyways than like typical gallery fare. But because he doesn’t have to be sneaky during the process, Brunson clearly puts in a lot of time and attention refining his images — which should offer fans of the graffiti aesthetic a breath of fresh air. If you see some pieces that look like they were created by Dalek and others that look like the notorious Scribe might have had a hand in them, you are not mistaken — the two well-known street artists collaborated with Brunson on a few of the pieces on display. Creatures that look like grumpy old men in bug suits buzz around against brightly colored skies, and creatures that look like the offspring of a bunny and a green-tongued alien wear heart-shaped tattoos and fancy hats. Fluorescent, character-driven and lively, this show managed to hold a decent-sized crowd in a cramped hallway for much of its opening night, which says a great deal for its charisma. Through March 26 at the Leedy-Voulkos Art Center, 2012 Baltimore, 816-474-1917. (G.K.)

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. Viewers tend to come away with a vague feeling of connectedness but not a defining subject matter or style. Any given viewer will gravitate toward a few specific artists. For us, this time around, those were 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.)

Teresa Hubbard/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 rain makes it look like tears trickling down her face. 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.)

Donald Lipski and Mitch Kern A recent issue of Budget Living showed readers how to apply intricate, origamilike folding techniques to the pages of vintage books to create cheap art. Donald Lipski could probably teach those crafty types a thing or two. Lipski’s book assemblages salute the written word yet render the books he uses mostly unreadable. Diverse tomes, from old encyclopedias to recent fiction hardcovers, are arranged into precise, orderly wreaths and stacks. In some works, everyday objects — spoons, nickels, lemons — add to the feeling that, in Lipski’s hands, anything’s fair game. Mitch Kern, meanwhile, shows portrait photographs of the people he met while he was an artist in residence at a cultural center in Hungary. Through April 30 at the Byron C. Cohen Gallery for Contemporary Art, 2020 Baltimore, 816-421-5665. (R.B.)

Never Eat Soggy Waffles When it comes to pirate jokes, we are often tempted to skip to the punch line — is it just us, or is every movie a pirate has ever seen rated arrrr? Fortunately, no jokes have been incorporated into the pirate-themed show at the Lynn Foundation. Instead, this installation-based exhibit conjures the feeling of playing some sort of make-believe childhood game. The floor has been covered in slats of cardboard, replacing the sturdy, polished gallery floor with something more rickety, something that sinks beneath your feet like the floorboards on an old, soggy ship. A mishmash of wall hangings (pieces of orange tissue attached to the wall and blowing in a fan-generated wind like so many flags atop a stormy sea, for example) also do their part — not so much to wow you and make you want to take pieces home to hang above the sofa but rather to make you feel like a kindergartner during a recess spent turning a jungle gym into a pirate ship. This collaboration is brought to you by artists using the pseudonyms Brice Reis and Aaron von Vinkler. Through March 25 at the Lynn Foundation, 7 W. 19th St. (downstairs from the Blue Gallery). (G.K.)

Garry Noland: Cartographs When humble stacks of National Geographic magazines make their way into Garry Noland’s studio, they’re transformed from evergreen garage-sale finds into canvases. Coated with thick paint, the magazines become surfaces upon which Noland paints the outlines of states and countries. Some end up as political statements. In “Find Korea,” Noland relocates the peninsula to the southeastern corner of the United States, where the viewer would expect to see Florida. Is Noland highlighting our lack of geographic knowledge — or alerting us to a threat on the lower 48? The politically charged answer seems more likely. In Noland’s “Homeland Security” sculpture, a tape-wrapped National Geographic stack looks at first like a low-slung work of minimalism, but in international Morse code, the placement of the tape reads: “Wolfy, Condy, Rummy, Cheney, Bushy, Saudi.” Through April 9 at the Late Show; 1600 Cherry, 816-474-1300. (R.B.)

John Northington: New Work For us, a trip to Home Depot means we’ve busted our toilet again — and should probably pick up some picture hooks. For John Northington, it’s time to stock up on art materials. The elements in his sculptures — steel, concrete and glass — are the same as those in any modern cityscape, but his combinations are uniquely intriguing. In some works, Northington takes scrap metal and other castoffs from his own projects before pouring concrete on top; the result is a jumble in which the chaos feels calming — stacks of glass sit inside a short concrete obelisk, intricately cut cubes of steel hold shimmery poured glass. Our only complaint? We’ve seen many of these pieces outside, and it seems like they belong there. Indoors, the works lose some of the impact they have when they’re shimmering in the sun or contrasting with nature. Through March 27 at 519 E. 18th St., 816-444-8058. (R.B.)

SNAFU: New Stencil Prints by Dave Lowenstein Because retail spaces need to be commercially viable, most art displays in restaurants and shops end up being vapid and unimaginative. You know: recontextualized van Gogh haystacks and starry nights. Cute. Harmless. Incapable of insulting anyone. The Olive Gallery and Art Supply Store has been an exception to that rule since it opened, and the show now on display is one of its most challenging yet — a series of clean, technically exceptional stencils depicting muralist Dave Lowenstein’s response to the war in Iraq. The most biting reflect on the mainstream U.S. media’s war coverage. (Talking heads are portrayed by men in suits wearing chicken heads and serving up perpetual Thanksgiving turkey.) Not exactly unexplored territory in art these days but skillfully executed. This show is a particular treat for people who have seen Lowenstein’s kinder, gentler murals in Lawrence and wondered what the artist would have to say given his own wall. Through March 30 at 15 E. 8th St. in Lawrence, 785-331-4114. (G.K.)