Downtown

When we see one isolated piece of Jean St. Pierre’s sculpture, its strong poetic resonance strikes us as either an accident or as placard-toting spirituality. Only when we see consistent aesthetic develop over many works do we realize that St. Pierre has a gift for coming up with consistently effective icons, fetishes and visual haikus. In one piece an altar-like hunk of rough wood holds parched bones. Above float kid gloves shaped like gesturing hands. In another an inverted ‘T’ of dark metal floats over a crudely tied cluster of dried hemp and a rusted metal spike. In “Object 10,” a worn steel chair that combines overtones of torture with old-school nostalgia sits before a powerful, encrusted black painting. As in the best of St. Pierre’s work, these two objects reverberate with ineffable meaning and intensify each other. (Angles Gallery, 2230 Main St. to Dec. 5.)