THE VALLEY

Sculptural collages by Phil Orlando exude the charm of wonderful antique books for children; you open them, things pop up, and the book becomes a cardboard castle. Exploring the fetishistic properties of art, Orlando converts books into masks by cutting, pasting, and painting them to the point that they become beautifully encrusted objects.

Incorporating feathers, beads, bits of mirror and found images, the books read as sculpture; consequently, the viewer hesitates to handle them, but Orlando intends that his tomes be read. Open “Art in America 2” and one discovers that specific words and images have been either obliterated or underscored, while a totem-shaped piece titled “Dance Mask of Mexico” turns out to be a pictorial gallery of ceremonial masks. Infused with warmth and droll wit, the pieces are rooted in a basic premise that’s smart in its simplicity: A book is roughly the size and shape of a mask and both have the power to transform the user.

Also on view are mixed-media works by Vida Hackman. “I alter birds,” explains Hackman, “changing their roles to increase or decrease their illusory powers to deceive.” I don’t know what kind of wildlife hangs out in Hackman’s yard, but the birds I’ve dealt with haven’t seemed particularly interested in deceiving me.

If you think that artist’s statement is confusing, wait’ll you see the work.

Ecology seems to be Hackman’s central concern, and her recurring motifs are decoys, traps and lures. She also uses lots of wooden shoe trees, probably because they resemble decoy ducks. In “Shoe Treed,” a shoe tree perched atop a wooden measuring device rises from a bed of grass like some kind of alien tree, while “Tower of Babel” is a pyramid of men’s shoes painted gold and adorned with peacock feathers. A series of comparatively subdued wall collages have the appearance of visual puns a la Alexis Smith, but these pieces too keep their intentions cryptically veiled. (Orlando Gallery, 14553 Ventura Blvd., to April 24.)