Wilshire Center

Three fluorescent pieces by Dan Flavin seem far afield from the highly conceptual, mathematically based works that won Flavin a place in contemporary art. In this show two pieces are made from diagonally angled groups of fluorescent tubes in arrangements of pink, green, blue and mustard yellow. The last tube in each series is slightly displaced to create a stepped indentation in the composition. There may be some arcane mathematical ratio between the parts, but mainly the works read like pretty colored lights. The third piece is a somewhat larger horizontal ladder of colored tubes fixed about a foot or so apart on their armature. In the gaps between the tubes reflected colors mix, colored light bends and alters the surrounding architecture, bringing this piece closest to Flavin’s sophisticated notions about uncontained color and malleable space. To represent Flavin with three uncharacteristically over-the-couch works gives local audiences an update on a major artist, but does little justice to his depth.

Concurrently, Doug and Mike Starn show black and white photos of macabre tableaux they stage and shoot at fairly close range. Using hobby clay they craft a crude staircase/altar leading nowhere and plunk it on top of marbled fabric that looks like it could be primordial slush or lava. In another piece a similarly worked clay chest/coffin is placed partly open on a bed of steel wool with dry-ice smoke effects veiling the whole weird scene. Either the Starns are serious and are trying their hand at so-bad-it’s-good kink in the tradition of the late Jim Morrison, or this is tongue-in-cheek camp that could pass as sets for Elvira’s midnight spook films. The bad news is that it’s tough to tell the difference. (Richard Green Gallery, N. La Brea Ave., to Oct. 8.)