Hollywood

Robert Glover’s clay sculptures haunt the edges of memory like mysterious sentinels, tokens of ancient ritual. Six new pieces composing his “Fasciatus Series” seem wrapped in silence.

Glover, half of a two-person show, adorns prow-like wedges with designs from sources as varied as Celtic menhirs or Giacometti figures. They focus space with a vengeance. Spare, direct overhead lighting plays up the impression that these flattened tapered forms stand at the center of spatial vortices.

Constructed of fitted sections, the sculptures’ textural appeal is enhanced by gouges, scratches and punctures in the the buff-colored clay. Forms recall Celtic standing stones, the symbols graven on them recall the glyphs on Mayan temples. These works resonate with the Jungian concept of archetype.

Glover’s sculptures present an overwhelming counterpoint to John Rose’s modest sized neo-cubist paintings. While some of these have a pleasing delicacy of composition, they lose visual impact by proximity to Glover’s work.

Like monochromatic Franz Marcs, or early Georgia O’Keeffe studies, Rose’s “Symphony for a Form” paintings explore the spatial possibilities of two main elements: a guitar-like double curve and a spiral. These are bisected by harsh diagonals, in the manner of Braque still lifes, shifting and fracturing the implied planes. But it’s been done--and overdone. (Space, 6015 Santa Monica Blvd., to Jan. 9.)