Santa Monica

A great hue and cry has gone up over the photographs of Robert Mapplethorpe. When he fixes upon an object--a flower, a nude torso--it becomes ipso facto an icon of perfection. Truth is surface, these impeccable prints seem to say, and that is all ye need to know. Direct as a poster, worldly as a wink, imbued with unblinking sensual allure, these are images that could only have been captured in the plush amorality of the ‘80s.

In his gelatin silver prints, Mapplethorpe gives the tactile sensitivity of George Platt Lynes--with whom he is often compared--a clinical, impersonal edge. Mapplethorpe’s cropped shot of the face of a marble sculpture of Adonis offers perfection twice over, the certified antique variety and the cool scrutiny of a contemporary close-up. A skull on a dark polished ledge becomes an exquisite prop, the wall behind it inflected with tasteful stripes of light and shadow.

Single upright flower images dominate this show, in limpid black-and-white and fiercely saturated dye transfer prints. Beguiling photogravures use the subtle flirtation of a single veil of color to set off the individual charms of spotted, curled, unfurled and feathery beauties like so many starlets. (BlumHelman, 916 Colorado Ave., to Oct. 1.)