Capsule reviews of current area art exhibitions.

 NEW

Subject(s):

Art Around Town

Robert Roth

-- Impressionism blossomed in the late 19th century, but it's still useful here, in the early 21st, as American Greetings staffer Robert Roth demonstrates in this thoughtful display of paintings inspired by New York's Long Island. Acrylic dries rapidly, but Roth doesn't seem hurried, even as he captures all the sensory details of the island's active skies and marshy, windswept landscapes with a brisk, almost blunt hand. "East Hampton" is the show's most balanced, elegant entry. Here, seemingly boundless, soggy grasslands -- their subtle patchwork of greens interrupted only by occasional fingers of whitish-blue streams -- unfurl into the horizon. You can almost hear the squish beneath your feet and feel your boots getting muddy. All this takes place beneath a vast but placid sky, compounding the magnificent remoteness of the scene. This is the basic format of most images, and green, blue, and gray predominate, but in "Bay Overlook," Roth makes a tasteful exception, applying shocking touches of brilliant orange and misty pink to convey flecks of light on the water and the glow of the setting sun. The air, too, is restless. Roth brushes on thicker layers and even globs of paint to portray the onset of evening. For sheer deftness, take note of "Cove," in which Roth incorporates some minor imperfections on his wooden surface into a generally rainy composition, transforming the board's tiny pocks into precipitation, like drops of water on a camera's lens. Through June 16 at Kelly-Randall Gallery, 2678 W. 14th St., 216-771-7724. -- Zachary Lewis

ONGOING

Tell Me Something I Don¹t Know -- Anthropomorphism, the practice of ascribing human traits to inanimate objects, is the name of the game in this quirky but profoundly astute series of photos by Chicago-based conceptual artist Joel Ross. The objects in this case are bland cookie-cutter homes in a suburb of St. Louis. Ross gives the structures unique voices by planting in their yards (with the owners' consent) rows of handwritten signs spelling thoughts that people might have. Their range is truly human, from disappointment, fear, and embarrassment to pure goofiness. One drab, semi-neglected abode with patches of dead grass cries out -- appropriately, like the dumb kid in class -- "I think there's something wrong with my arm." Another home -- finer and more neatly manicured, featuring even rows of blue shutters -- belies its calm appearance with "Sometimes it feels like my brain is on fire." A third states, randomly and empty-headedly, "My bowling thumb is still sore." The beauty of these images is manifold. In one sense, they underscore and subtly fight back against the generic, nondescript subdevelopments ubiquitous throughout the United States. They're also deliciously subversive and prank-like, proclaiming private thoughts in a setting where public decorum is the rule. But even this is done in a friendly, innocent manner reminiscent of birth or graduation announcements. Finally, they're empathetic, evoking genuine concern for the people inside or simply plucking the heart strings like a sad clown. It's impossible, for instance, not to love a well-worn house declaring, "My intentions were good." Through June 24 at Raw & Co Gallery, 1009 Kenilworth Ave., 216-235-0635, www.rawandcogallery.com. -- Lewis