Visions shared

The Danforth assembles a group show that
hangs together . . . and separately

by Jenna Russell

"Upstairs/Downstairs I" at the Danforth Gallery, 34 Danforth St., Portland, through August 26. Open from noon to 7 p.m. on Monday, Thursday, and Friday,
and from noon to 4 p.m. on Saturday. (207) 775-6245.

REAL NUDE: Gary Stearly paints drippy, melting, green-black backgrounds around the glowing pink flesh of his nudes, bringing their luminous realness into sharper focus.

The title of the current show at the Danforth Gallery, "Upstairs/Downstairs I," is a bit of a misnomer. The paintings and mixed-media works are confined to one large downstairs room and attached foyer. The "upstairs" aspect won't come into play until September, when the show's second phase, devoted to photography and sculpture, opens.

Not to worry -- there's a lot to look at, more than 40 pieces by 23 artists, most from the Portland area. The Danforth is part of the non-profit, volunteer-driven Maine Artists Space, a 12-year-old collective dedicated to allowing emerging and mid-career artists control over how their work is exhibited. True to the cooperative spirit, the group show is the natural format here, but it's still subject to the risks of group shows everywhere. Without a single artist's vision to hold the exhibit together, the assembly depends on a strong curator to establish links, obvious or unexpected, among individuals. Without that, our observations tend to be isolated and held to the surface -- we see a skilled portrait here, a nice landscape there, rather than a wider view of what we have in common. The wide view isn't always accessible here, but there are enough rewarding windows on the world.

"Upstairs/Downstairs I" includes oils and acrylics, dyed silks and pastels, digital illustrations and ink drawings. Some of the subject matter is distinctly native -- Old Port musicians, the Portland lighthouse. The natural world is important, seen in apple blossoms and pine groves. Other worlds are also invoked -- in Carolyn Wiley's steamy, beaded fabric abstractions "Fantasea I and II," and in the "Untitled Mexico" series by Maine Artists Space founder Roland Rose, working here under his middle name, Salazar.

Expanding the quest for common ground, we find several works dominated by bold, black outlines and driven by a linear preoccupation. "Portland Headlight," an acrylic by Betsy Schneider, has the matte color and simple shapes of a Fisher-Price toy, in keeping with her children's book illustrations, some of which are also in the show. Steffi Greenbaum executes a similar unsubtle vision in her "Composition of Red Lines," a thickly-outlined acrylic of a reclining figure with fat bands of color behind her. Detail isn't important, and neither is realism; the woman has green flesh and minimal features, but the wrinkles in her collapsed skirt are of paramount importance. This is painting in capital letters, arresting for its starkness. Black lines also contain the tree shapes in Jan ter Weele's sunny, lemon-fresh "Landscape -- Portland," and appear again as a kind of grid in the fascinating "Zinnias with Moth." Seemingly inspired by Paul Klee, South Portland artist Ruth Bowman uses rich, glowing color and a mosaic-tile composition to riff on the idea of flowers while creating something only remotely floral in appearance.

One regrets the harsh fluorescent light directly over "January Thaw," a fiber work of knitted loops or handles on a gray-blue blanket background. Its colors are washed out in the greenish glare, but one imagines in subtler light, the silvery threads might come to life, icy and magical. One wishes also that multiple works by the same artist could have hung closer together, for easier comparison and study and a deeper understanding of each participant's preoccupations. Joel Levasseur is one artist who would benefit from tighter grouping; his three intriguing mixed-media pieces all come from the same "Ocean Stories" series, and each mixes dreamy, abstract segments with more literal references to the landscape. It's a stretch, but a healthy one (why not?) to imagine a similar interactive contrast in Gary Stearly's watercolors. He paints drippy, melting, green-black backgrounds around the glowing pink flesh of his nude models, bringing their luminous realness into sharper focus.

Some of the pieces defy categorization, and their resistance has to be respected. At first glance, it's easy to be baffled and unwooed by the rooster art of Helen Tower Hall Rundell, but her bold blend of forceful design and dramatic color is seductive in the small acrylic "Still Life with Rooster and Basket." There's a strange sophistication in the weird, skewed perspective, the shades of chartreuse and violet, and the etched figure-eight pattern that resembles nothing so much as 1960s linoleum.

It's an awful cliché, but it's true that the big group show offers "something for everyone!" Bring Grandma, bring the kids and your hip cousin Sadie from New York, and everyone can fan out to find their personal favorite. Then, reconvene for some healthy discussion. You have to love a gallery that offers free copies of the "Instant Art Critique Phrase Generator" by the door. The tongue-in-cheek tool provides ready-made, mix-and-match phrases for the gallery-challenged. ("I find this work menacing/playful because of"/"the inherent overspecificity" would be one cut-and-paste opinion.) On the other hand, don't feel you have to talk.

Jenna Russell can be reached at russelljenna@hotmail.com.