Unusual Focus

Artists who find themselves in compelling landscapes are usually seduced by the presence of nature, its thickets and contours. But in the case of Larry Bessel’s exhibition “The Redwood Highway,” the periphery is what counts.

Redwoods have obvious majesty, but for the most part, Bessel directs our attention to kitschy roadside attractions, as well as the more ominous sight of a lumber truck’s haul--a symbol of the forest’s downfall. With his digitally altered photography, Bessel, photo director at the Los Angeles Times-Ventura County Edition, takes in the alternative scenery built up around the natural scenery and leads us to conclusions about man’s manipulation of natural resources.

Northern California’s Redwood Highway is a fascinating stretch of land. But it tends to inspire awe tinged with grim reality: We recognize that this literal last stand of trees is just a small percentage of the forest that prevailed here only a hundred years ago.

What remains of this globally unique clutch of coastal redwoods is a powerful lure for visitors, and where tourism goes, gimmickry is sure to follow. Bessel shows bemusing images of RVs parked outside the “One-Log House,” a drive-through tree trunk, redwood burl sculptures and the spot advertising “Carving for Christ.”

In a couple of pieces, Bessel creates composite views of shots peering into the upper reaches of redwoods, as if he is dizzied by the immensity of the grand specimens.

Other pieces--in which Native American elders’ faces are digitally superimposed, ghost-like, on modern forest scenes--verge on hokey contrivance. But the underlying point is important, and well-taken. The redwoods here, like the Native American population in the area, fell victim to the crush of westward migration. The tacit theme in Bessel’s show is that the Redwood Highway is both a natural wonder and a sad memorial of what was.

* Larry Bessel, “The Redwood Highway,” through Dec. 24 at Jim Nye Art and Image, 111 S. Dos Caminos Ave. in Ventura. Call for gallery hours: 641-0450.

*

Visual Cacophony: Group shows at Art City Gallery can be untamed, raucous affairs. Take, for example, the current show, “Metastasis,” a fairly wild assortment even by Art City standards. The show’s ostensible subject is change and transition, with an accent on nature and the seasons. But from there, the sky’s the limit.

The sculptural contingent ranges from Alexandra Morosco’s sensuously curvaceous “Inside Flight” to gonzo assemblage pieces like Ken Farkash’s “I See You,” a shiny steel pig equipped with speakers in the snout. A visitor’s motion triggers a recording of the phrase of the title, in a snorting timbre. In the middle of the gallery, Russ McMillin shows “Space One,” a sandbox littered with clay scraps that suggest either castoffs from a lost civilization or from a recently discovered one.

Off in the far corner, several large cocoons made of paper and wire, called “Chrysalis Project” and not credited to any single artist, dangle from the rafters and create an eerie presence. Junk-loving sculptor Eric Richards is always ready with extravagance and/or non sequitur, as with his “Phoenix to Santa Fe.” It’s a looming construction of rusty metal gears and a mythical wooden female nude perched on top.

Other sculptural works include Christopher Turk’s clay and wood spirals, “Random Nature,” subtle in this company. “The Tattooed Lady” is a collaboration between Gwendolyn Alley and Fred Betz, a funky assemblage of words, images and nostalgic bric-a-brac.

In the two-dimensional department, MB Hanrahan shows a large, unframed canvas upon which languid figures mingle casually with skeletons. It has the telling title of “Alive.” Kakine’s photograph “rose valley yucca” exerts a gentle allure, and Britt Enggren’s photographs of nudes in unlikely places nuzzle up against taboo.

* “Metastasis,” through Dec. 1 at Art City, 31 Peking St. in Ventura. Gallery hours: 10 a.m.-5 p.m., Wednesday-Sunday; 648-1690.