Artbeat

William Wegman’s name has become synonymous with photographs of Weimaraner dogs, whom he captures making humorous and humanesque poses. The images are available in books at Target and on notecards virtually everywhere. But another side of the artist emerges in “It’s a Dog’s Life: Photographs by William Wegman from the Polaroid Collection” at Florida Atlantic University’s Ritter Art Gallery. Two small televisions show Wegman’s experimental films. Coupling the films and photographs indicates that Wegman embraces both subversive edge and commercial appeal. Through film — some without dogs — Wegman plays with typical settings, like a magic trick or a cinnamon toast commercial, in unusual ways. In one short, a man (Wegman?) drools milk on the floor in a linear puddle. The films are witty, disturbing, and, at times, inexplicable. The photographs, on the other hand, have a widespread attraction. Massive — 24 inches by 20 inches — the prints showcase the dogs’ soulful eyes and silky fur. Some are a little more unexpected than others, with Wegman’s subjects blending elegantly into their surroundings. In Sad Film, a single Weimaraner sits in an otherwise empty film auditorium as if watching the movie that’s coming from the projector behind. The dog’s expression is inquisitive and forlorn. Stud 2000 features a Weimaraner sitting on a stationary bike, a towel draped around its neck. Mantle has two dogs lounging above a fireplace like floral decorations, almost blending into the massive stone chimney. Although the photographs capture the animals’ priceless expressions and the texture of their fur is scintillatingly reproduced, visitors who crave a little more risk with their art may find themselves drawn more to Wegman’s films. (Through November 12 at the Ritter Art Gallery, Florida Atlantic University, 777 Glades Rd., Boca Raton. Call 561-297-2661, or visit www.fau.edu/galleries.)

Now on Display

California native William DeBilzan‘s mixed media, abstract expressionist pieces have gained popularity throughout the United States since the early 1990’s. His visibility increased dramatically in the 1990’s when popular prime-time television shows like Frasier and Just Shoot Me featured his paintings. New River Fine Art is currently displaying their recent acquisitions of DeBilzan’s original, colorful works. His paintings of elongated, rectangular figures and brilliant hues are embellished by the appropriation of stenciled text and various found objects, such as corrugated cardboard and mesh. DeBilzan creates his own frames of rough, antique wood, adding a rustic quality to the paintings. Some of the frames still have a hinge or joint from their previous use, further enhancing the folksy appeal of the work. His canvases, saturated with colors that evoke New Orleans or the Caribbean, offer a bold backdrop to lines of highly representational houses, trees, or people. Once Again offers the viewer a vibrant shade of green painted on canvas layered with mesh and corrugated cardboard that serves as a background to two lovers holding hands with their heads tilted in affection toward each other. The clean whites of their shirts juxtaposed with the primary colors of his pants and her skirt create a sharp contrast to the muted tones of stenciled, spray-painted letters and the numbers of the floor they stand on. DeBilzan’s subject matter never seems to reference anything other than the warm comfort and bright joys of daily life. That simplicity is the appeal of William DeBilzan’s body of work. (Through November 5 at New River Fine Art, 914 E. Las Olas Blvd., Fort Lauderdale. Call 954-524-2100.)

“New Art 2005” at the Museum of Art culls an array of recent and older creations by nine winners of the South Florida Cultural Consortium Fellowship. Not only does the fellowship benefit the artists in terms of exposure and money ($15,000 to each artist, to be exact), but it also lets museum visitors see an unusually focused sampling of contemporary work. The artists explore a range of media — painting, photography, sculptural installation, video, computer art — but the exhibit is surprisingly consistent. The pieces eloquently marry materials and ideas, eliciting beauty and insight. For one of her installations, Miami’s Karen A. Rifas has strung brown leaves on white threads that, arranged like shafts of light, emanate from the walls, floor, and ceiling. As the organic shapes cast shadows against the surrounding walls, the piece simultaneously conveys stillness and energy. It’s titled “I’m Dancing as Fast as I Can.” Hollywood’s Thomas Nolan constructs a city of towers and skyscrapers out of hundreds of unused staples and screws, mounted on top of the base of a swivel chair. Called “Newerness,” its tiny objects evoke a miniature cityscape, a fantastic juxtaposition of simplicity and complexity. Not for the queasy, filmmaker Lisandro Pérez-Rey is represented by several short videos, one of which shows a scientist dissecting an animal. But by capturing ordinary routines and interactions and splicing them with their subject’s thoughts on life and love, Pérez-Rey also offers touching vignettes. Call them portraits for the 21st century. (Through November 6 at the Museum of Art, 1 E. Las Olas Blvd., Fort Lauderdale. Call 954-525-5500.)

Because Broward County’s architectural gems are spread around — unlike Miami’s famous Art Deco neighborhoods, where they tend to show up in clusters — visitors rarely get a sense of the scope of Broward’s mid-century modern designs. “Going, Going, Gone? Mid-Century Modern Architecture in South Florida” now at the Museum of Art, seeks to rectify this situation, albeit in the two-dimensional medium of photography. Broward’s best are at least the equal of those in Miami. On one wall of the museum, 27 photographs by Robin Hill offer dramatic glimpses of buildings, hotels, and inns that appear both retro and New Age. Shot from close and unusual angles, the energy-packed images are gripping. The icing on the cake is a 16-foot “Gold Coast” sign salvaged from the roof of the 1949 beachfront hotel of the same name. Its turquoise metal lettering with gold trim matches the hyper-bright colors in Hill’s pictures. Also in the exhibit are Hill’s 16 photographs of Miami-Dade County landmarks including the Fontainebleau Hotel and Giller Building. The structures’ carefree colors and swirling arches recall a time of childlike exuberance. Fort Lauderdale’s Hyatt Regency Pier 66, with its glass-enclosed lounge topped with a crown of lit columns, seems ideal for a visit from The Jetsons. The Jolly Roger and Yankee Clipper look more like blown-up toys than buildings, remnants of an era whose motto was “Because We Can” instead of “The Bottom Line.” Afterward, visitors can leave the museum and see almost all of the structures for themselves. (Through November 6 at the Museum of Art, 1 E. Las Olas Blvd., Fort Lauderdale. Call 954-525-5500.)

Humberto Calzada: Humberto Calzada’s work is skillful and bright. His architectonic subject matter is sedate, even nostalgic; his sober, white, interior geometric vistas, adorned with stained-glass arches and flooded with water, have become mainstream. Beyond that, Calzada clearly creates a more complex, Escher-like space with stairs folding in on themselves and mock walls supporting nothing but air. If non-Euclidean spaces are easy prey for chaos, then Calzada’s seeming paradox of ageless ruins built around four elements — the column, stained glass, water, and light — is not so much about the space’s visual ease as much as the possible anxiety of being too comfortable within it. This exhibit shows a lighter side of Calzada, but he certainly has the capability to stir greater emotion. Let’s hope for more of that soon. (Through October 3 at the Americas Collection, 2440 Ponce de Leon Blvd., Coral Gables. Call 305-446-5578.)

Castillos en el Aire: “Miami is closer to the sky than to the Earth in every aspect and no matter how you look at it,” Spanish photographer Vicenta Casañ says. But unlike Chicago or New York, the Magic City isn’t recognizable by its skyscrapers. So Vicenta’s photos of Miami’s signature buildings in the downtown and Miami Beach areas (with their tops floating among choreographed cloud formations) seem bizarre, unless, of course, she’s playing around. Could these edifices be drifting in so-called clouds of real-estate speculation? Casañ’s colorful photos exude a peculiarly pure humor, but they also convey our present predicament of speculative greed and carry the ominous quality of a bubble waiting to burst. (Through September 30 at Diana Lowenstein Fine Arts, 3080 SW 38th Ct., Miami. Call 305-774-5969.)