Degrees of Frank -- Twelve artists pool their talents in sculpture and video installation to honor Frank Green, a Cleveland performance artist, art critic, and all-around creative personality suffering from HIV and long-term memory loss. Unfortunately, noble intentions don't always add up to quality. One goal is to diminish the effects of memory loss by evoking or creating artistic memories Green may already have lost or would appreciate. These pieces are generally head-scratchers: cerebral, abstract, and personal, exclusive to the inner circle. Punning on Green's first name, a second group more successfully explores serious issues in quests of honest, unfiltered self-examination. Nancy Prudic's "Fear" sets up an imaginative process wherein viewers confront themselves as their own worst enemy. Dangling from this black paint-coated mirror are three scraping tools, to be used as pens for answering her question What are you afraid of? Eventually, in theory, less and less will obscure pure reflection, as viewers scrape away their answers. Only Michael Loderstedt's "Frank Thinking" provides a tangible sense of Green's identity. This long, vertical black scroll bears a picture of a gray, stone-like slab. Atop it is a patch of temperate brown and green, encasing a smaller area of bright yellow-orange, like an active brain-scan image. If this is a portrait of Green the critic, here's a man of intense concentration and solid opinions. Couldn't ask for a better tribute. Through October 21 at Arts Collinwood Gallery, 15605 Waterloo Rd., 216-692-9500, www.artscollinwood.org. -- Zachary Lewis
ONGOING
Alexander Reyna -- At first blush, these seven large paintings by New Yorker Alexander Reyna evoke the spirit of the '60s, that distinctive blend of giddy oblivion and free-love depravity fueled by political dissatisfaction and fear of nuclear war. In fact, they're significantly more complex -- powerful illustrations of how closely that older era mirrors today's bizarre national mood. Techniques from graffiti art and surrealism heavily inform collages of war planes, missiles, spiraling smoke, flowers, and rainbows. Reyna also ventures into Futurism, indicating a more modern period, throwing Star Wars-like fighter jets and killer droids into the mix. But there's nothing random or impulsive about these paintings. They're all far too balanced, the pieces interlocking too smoothly and seductively to have been painted without forethought. Then there's the racy stuff: Embedded in half the pictures are messages of sexual freedom, in the form of shadowy, faintly drawn women, topless and masturbating. In "Death Star Mother F'er," one of the most striking images, a fleet of World War II planes stands out against a blood-red sky, while bombs trickle out beneath them. That's just the top half. Below all this, Reyna ingeniously connects a drawing of a hip-hop MC, posed like a gangster, into the outline of a woman who lies spread-eagle, fingering herself. It's all just like the world in 2006. Bombs are flying and people are dying, and there's nothing else to do but pump it up and get it on. Through October 7 at Miller-Weitzel Gallery, Parish Hall, 6205 Detroit Ave., 216-939-9099, www.millerweitzelgallery.com. -- Lewis
Brick by Brick -- To the pudgy, pointy-nosed subjects of the magnificent paintings by Cuban-born Clevelander Augusto Bordelois, appearance means everything. Like many Americans, they're either wracked with insecurity or oblivious to their faults. Bordelois imagines them in outrageously ornate clothing that either masks or flaunts their deficiencies, thereby transforming them into universal and sometimes humorous symbols of human vanity. Bordelois is an exceptionally good painter -- the show's title alludes to his meticulous method -- and his palette is as rich and vibrant as Raphael's, dominated by velvety maroons, plush reds, and luminescent flesh tones. In "Fragile," a teen tries to look grown up in his dark sunglasses and mobster suit, when he's really just a pasty kid with a weight problem. By contrast, the woman in "The Fox" poses luxuriously, like Eve in the Garden of Eden -- naked except for a strategically placed leaf. Only she's far heavier than Adam's wife, sporting a fox-fur collar in sad contradiction to her utterly unfoxy looks. Best is "Living Without a Rooster," where women in evening gowns preen around an empty throne. They resemble the chickens at their feet: Empty in mind and soul, they have nothing to do but wait around and hope someone notices them. Until September 29 at 1point618 Gallery, 6421 Detroit Avenue, 216-281-1618, www.1point618gallery.com. -- Lewis
Darice Polo -- These images by Clevelander Darice Polo look so much like old black-and-white family photos that it's hard to believe they're actually recent works. Only upon close inspection -- nose against the glass -- is their true magnificence revealed. They're actually drawings -- film stills transformed with painstaking care into pencil-and-paper (or oil paint) masterpieces, complete with historic blemishes; the effort involved explains why there are so few of them. And while nothing says the subjects are members of Polo's family, the drawings evince so much love and pride that it's impossible to assume otherwise. Particularly moving are the variations in clarity and what they imply. A large pencil drawing titled "Fela's Visit, 1952" shows a group of women cooing over a baby. All the details are there, textures particularly: a flannel blanket, dress fabrics, a painted wood cabinet, the baby's peach-fuzz hair. Yet the faces are blurry; the most valuable element is omitted. By contrast, "Theresa, 1948," another graphite drawing, is in amazingly sharp, pointillistic focus, suggesting that Polo (or whoever holds the memory) took great care in preserving this mental picture. It shows a young, well-dressed black woman, who smilingly waits on a train platform amid businessmen. Perhaps she was traveling to a job interview or happy social event. In any case, she was probably far ahead of her time in the segregated, chauvinistic 1940s and '50s, and the image resounds with her pride. Through October 8 at Raw & Co Gallery, 1009 Kenilworth Ave., 216-235-0635, www.rawandcogallery.com. -- Lewis
Drop -- Think of "drop" in terms of a distribution hub or collective gathering space. That's the only sensible explanation for this five-person group show, which pairs local talent with artists from Holland. But it all fits under the new AARTCorp gallery's deliberately nebulous identity: The name stands for Applied Aesthetic Research and Technology Corporation -- a generic, connotation-free label that implies nothing and imposes no restrictions. Happily for this show, the highlights are evenly divided between the continents represented. Dutch artist Karen van de Vliet takes graffiti to high artistic and technical levels in a set of portraits digitally printed on canvas. Imagine Rembrandt as a punk with a laptop: Composing on a computer, van de Vliet pieces together and overlays patches of light, semitransparent hues to form cohesive images. In her eyes, an immense Afro on a joyous Rastafarian becomes a ball of patchwork quilts, and the loud colors she uses mirror the character's presumably larger-than-life personality. Clevelander Ron Tucker experiments with India ink in a series of small, untitled, ribbonlike strokes on paper. He displays a profound grasp of the medium through stunning variations in hue, definition, and density of tone -- everything from light speckles to the blackest of solid blacks. The subtlety here is on par with the work of an ancient master of Japanese calligraphy. Through September 30 at AART Corp, 2026 Murray Hill Rd., 216-421-0704, www.aartcorp.com. -- Lewis
Miscellaneous Debris -- You've probably never bothered to look closely at a late-night TV test pattern, but it's actually an impressive study in contrasts, as one of these quirky creations by Clevelander Dana Depew demonstrates. Though steeped in pop art, Depew's work transcends pop's rather narrow boundaries with keen observation, humor, and unusual materials rich in associated meaning. For each piece, he removes stripe symbols from their original contexts in business, sports, politics, and entertainment, and transforms them into full-scale paintings. Thus excerpted, they become strangely unfamiliar and invite fresh appreciation. Depew scores his deepest hits when the medium comments on the subject, as in "Terror Alert Chart," a large rendering of Homeland Security's color-coded warning system. He paints solid horizontal bands on threadbare burlap, implying the concept itself is weak and nearly useless. Encyclopedic notes accompany many images, piling on trivial details and compounding the magnificence of the mundane. A lengthy etymology of stockings is the perfect complement to the already absurdly enchanting "Hanes Tube Socks," which all but envisions socks as historical treasures. Painting three faint stripes apiece on a few vertical sections of nubby chenille fabric, Depew mimics the exact look and feel of worn-out footwear. They may not be priceless relics, but they're certainly something to behold. Through October 7 at Asterisk Gallery, 2393 Professor Ave., 330-304-8528, www.asteriskgallery.com. -- Lewis
Street Repairs -- Art can't solve the world's problems, but it can get things moving in the right direction. Thus it is with this high-minded group exhibition devoted to urban ills. Though the solutions presented are neither realistic nor thorough, such fresh, lucid perspectives on city life must be counted an unqualified good. An artist called Poke combines painterly talent with a simple but revolutionary idea for bettering the world. "The Knight Owl," a massive, virtuoso graffiti signature spread over wall and floor, invites close inspection of an art form frequently viewed from afar, from the safety of a passing train or car. At the same time, it pleads a rather powerful case for enlightenment: Give up viewing spray-painting as vandalism, and suddenly graffiti transforms into a most welcome adornment. Jake Beckman's "Urban Core Samples" likewise serves dual ends, though it's never clear what specific problem it addresses. These smooth-topped chunks of asphalt, dirt, piping, and concrete do more than expose the strangely complex, multilayered world beneath our feet; they also suggest that our city's core is filthy, like Hamlet's rotten Denmark. But Mark Riegelman's "Home Sweet Home" represents the most creative, if impractical, upgrade to urban infrastructure. Rather than drab waiting pens, he imagines bus stops as cozy, wallpapered living rooms, complete with chairs, lamps, books, and warm beverages. Imagine how society would benefit from so many calmed nerves. Through October 20 at SPACES, 2220 Superior Viaduct, 216-621-2314, www.spacesgallery.org. -- Lewis
Van Duzer Perspective -- Clarence Van Duzer is best known for his "Global Flight" sculpture at Hopkins Airport, but the public art by this 86-year-old local legend represents just one area of his expertise. Not only is this collection of recent paintings well stocked; it's also stylistically diverse, revealing immense creativity and productivity -- a testament to Van Duzer's unique, restless, and dynamic vision as an abstract painter. In the forceful picture "Festival," three large panels barely contain a chaotic cloud of reds, pinks, blues, and shocking white, rapidly applied in tiny fan-shaped patterns. Van Duzer's inspiration is clear: With a little imagination, the fantastic series becomes a time-lapse still -- a long, painted exposure of an active, brightly dressed parade. It's stunning. An altogether different thread consists of drip-style paintings on wrinkled canvases. Van Duzer calls them "Mountain Landscapes," presumably because they resemble relief maps. The peak here is "Series IV," a long, horizontal expanse of white, thoughtfully laced with ribbons of chocolate brown. The colors and gestures alone are worth savoring, but the image might also be an iceberg cracking or mounds of rock and snow, viewed from a perilous perch. These questions almost don't matter. As with any great abstraction, the only thing not open to interpretation is the brilliant figure behind it. Through October 15 at Convivium33 Gallery, 1433 East 33rd St., 216-881-7838, www.josaphatartshall.com. -- Lewis
