Kanwischer x 2 -- Edmund and Charles Kanwischer are father and son, but you'd have to view their work side by side to tell they have anything in common. This show provides that opportunity for the first time. Problem is, the thin conceptual threads uniting the two artists aren't all that enlightening. Edmund, the father, a retired Illinois professor, constructs crude, rhombus-shaped, marginally interesting sculptures of multicolored wood and found objects. They're like geometric abstracts in three dimensions, and it's no surprise to learn that the artist studied with Rothko. It's helpful to imagine the structures as little houses reflecting vastly different personalities: Some are bright and friendly, with doors, windows, and open interiors, while others are dark, solid, and seemingly impregnable. (One of them, a gray box with a wire-mesh opening, might be a prison.) Charles, an instructor at Bowling Green State University, picks up his father's "Would you live here?" theme and fascination with wood, but reveals greater talent and polish in his "Real Estate Series." Using only pencil and silverpoint in astoundingly realistic drawings resembling faded black-and-white photos, he captures the dual personalities of empty rooms as places either inviting or forbidding -- depending on your view of so much empty square footage -- with shadows lurking in corners and behind doorways. He also lets viewers decide whether the perfect but lifeless new homes springing up on vast, windblown fields where trees once reigned represent progress or travesty. It's clear what the artist thinks, even if the point is well worn: Like his father, Charles prefers wood in its natural state. Through July 9 at Raw & Co Gallery, 1009 Kenilworth Ave. , 216-235-0635, www.rawandcogallery.com. -- Zachary Lewis
Late, Flakey, Vain, Selfish, and Sorry -- This show of work from Cleveland artists Steven Intermill and Joe Parlett will feed your desire for '70s escapism, but its nutritional value is up for debate. Intermill's inkjet designs on canvas feature a domestic zoo of brightly hued frogs, dogs, birds, and cats that spin and morph from one to another in vibrating circles and polka-dotted sun rays, above an outlined landscape of exotic spires and mushroom-shaped buildings -- pretty much the vibe of an old Grateful Dead album cover. Intermill describes his work as a means to escape the mundane details of everyday life and recapture some piece of his '70s youth, but exactly what he's grasping at is frustratingly unclear. Parlett, who favors oversized depictions of larger-than-life subjects, is less technically polished but strives for greater depth; consider him the witty smartass to Intermill's blissed-out stoner. His "Camera Shot," in pen-and-ink with colored washes, features a broad-shouldered executive with a cocked jaw, smirking for the cameras that flash around him. But also present in the margins are the man's tiny penis and hands, dropping in to pop his bloated ego. In a show that flaunts the flaky, at least it doesn't disappoint. Through July 1 at the Miller-Weitzel Gallery at Parish Hall Cleveland, 6205 Detroit Ave., 216-939-9099, www.millerweitzelgallery.com. -- Tami Miller
Afrofuturism -- How might technology affect race relations and African American culture? It's an enormous loaded question, but Afrofuturism is thorough and imaginative in its answer. Seventeen artists address the issue in a large and diverse multimedia exhibition from the Obsidian Gallery in Minneapolis. If there's a unifying theme, it's that racial advancement won't be unidirectional; rather, it'll zigzag and reverse, always looking backward even as it moves forward. "Black to the Afro-Future: A Road Map," by Oakland artist Amanda Williams, simultaneously embodies and critiques this theme. Straight red lines of paint and string veer over a black wall like a treasure map, their circuitous paths intersecting at Altoid tins painted to depict stages of black history. Strategically placed text at widely separated points mark "where we want to be" and "where we're supposed to be," suggesting that in reality, racial utopia may be impossible to achieve. But not everything here is so serious: Seitu Jones of Minneapolis injects a satisfying dose of satirical humor with "Noirex," a fake magazine advertisement for a pill that "corrects excessive melanin" -- i.e., turns black skin white. Enjoy the funny before-and-after photos, but also note the fine print that details the staggering side effects, which include "loss of rhythm." Through June 9 at Spaces Gallery, 2220 Superior Viaduct, 216-621-2314, www.spacesgallery.org. -- Lewis
The Birth of Genius -- Unique among the many displays nationwide celebrating the 100th birthday of legendary designer Viktor Schreckengost, this exhibition unveils rare sketches and design concepts from 1924 to '29, when Schreckengost was a student at the Cleveland Institute of Art (where he would eventually become the youngest faculty member in school history). In lieu of later masterpieces, the show features early school projects masterfully executed across a staggeringly diverse range. Whether sketching the human figure, designing a lamp, or conceiving a mural, Schreckengost excelled in every artistic attempt, lofty or mundane. He accomplished his task with unwavering finesse, understanding, balance, and attention to detail. A highlight among the figural sketches is "Nude Seated Female": Straight lines are nowhere to be found on this drawing of a seated woman -- only dynamic curves that set her in palpable motion. Perhaps the strongest harbinger of Schreckengost's design career is "Decorative Figure in Porcelain." Form and function unite stunningly in this design for an Art Deco statuette, its arched arm and flowing hair merging into a column that completes and supports the figurine. Of course, even the best of us has a bad day occasionally. Schreckengost's came during his sophomore year, when he sketched a male figure and apparently tried later to change its sex, adding breasts and bobbed hair with little success. But it's still a Schreckengost, and even this awkward piece has undeniable flair. Through August 18 at the Cleveland Institute of Art, 11141 East Blvd., 216-421-7403, www.cia.edu. -- Lewis
Florescence -- Emerging from a realist period, local painter Dana Oldfather fills her first solo exhibition in Cleveland with new "existential studies" exploring the complex and intrinsically contradictory nature of womankind. Her subjects, painted on board in flat, solid colors, are almost all variations on today's ideal of beauty: tall, thin, blonde or brunette, and stylishly dressed in low-slung pants and tight-fitting shirts. But the similarities end there. Each image represents a unique and intriguing blend of opposites. Physically, the women's skin looks soft, while their features and bony frames are angular and harsh. Their attitudes are even more enigmatic: They evade connection with their surroundings with averted eyes and disengaged postures, but it's hard to tell whether they're absorbed in thought or simply self-absorbed; either way, they are islands of calm. In "The Four," we see four women, their backs to one another, working in a kitchen either in icy silence or at a familial hum. Oldfather's subjects appear either caring or cruel, depending on the viewer's interpretation; the anguished man in "Carolyn Reclining" may be receiving close, thoughtful attention from his blond companion on the couch, but more likely he's being tuned out. The most touching scene here, "Cotton and Breathing," is a solo portrait. An orange-haired woman of exceptionally delicate frame pauses on the street, her hand on her chest. Maybe she's just catching her breath. Or maybe she's overwhelmed with a feeling we can only imagine. Through June 24 at E Gordon Gallery, 2026 Murray Hill Rd., 216-795-0971, www.egordongallery.com. -- Lewis
Into View -- For 15 years, the Sculpture Center has elevated Ohio artists to greater prominence through its "Window to Sculpture" series. This exhibition of recent work by program alumni is a frank perusal of the high and low points. While the show succeeds in its intent to demonstrate the continued viability and potential of sculpture, many individual cases end up providing evidence to the contrary; there's a lot of overly intellectualized and simply incoherent stuff by artists whose technical mastery is evident, but who apparently haven't yet discovered their message or how best to express it. There's only one sculptor here whose principles of abstraction approach the truly profound: The smooth, interlocking sandstone rings of Bruce Biro's "Duet" are hovering realizations of infinity. They arise from a single base and bend toward each other intimately, yet they never actually touch, like two musicians improvising independently on the same theme. Amazingly for stone objects, they convey a sense of weightlessness, as if they'd float to the ceiling like balloons if they weren't anchored. This is the sort of feat that only sculpture can achieve; one hopes there will always be a venue for it. Through June 16 at the Cleveland State University Art Gallery, 2307 Chester Ave., 216-687-2103, www.csuohio.edu/art/gallery. -- Lewis
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