Serial Relationship

Baila Goldenthal and Max Finkelstein, now sharing exhibition space at the Platt Gallery, are artists with no strongly discernible aesthetic bond. In this case, though, the bond goes beyond art’s sake and into the home: The artists live together. That’s cause enough to bring them together, and we instinctively look, mostly in vain, for evidence of cross-influence.

If there is common ground between the work of the two artists, it has to do with the act of working in series, exploring themes through variations. Because of this, the theme-oriented gallery seems segmented into a number of ideas, woven into a modular whole.

Finkelstein’s “Bar Code” series spins off from the pervasive image of a horizontal bar code (UPC) to make statements about the increasing regimentation and acquisitiveness of consumer culture. We’re able to buy faster, courtesy of bar code technology. Does that encourage more rabid consumption?

But, in these pieces, the artist also weaves in references to the culture of violence, where gun imagery is an archetypal sign of strength, as well as alluding to the right-wing militia mentality. Arms, ammo, camouflage patterns and imagery relating to the Oklahoma City bombing crop up in the work, as loaded (pardon the pun) decorative elements. In one piece, rifles take the place of bars in the UPC symbol.

Looking at these violence-related pieces, we are offered a social statement on a platter, especially when we contrast these with more innocent, post-Warhol pieces that rely on actual consumer imagery from grocery store ads. Suddenly, in this context, a slab of meat no longer seems only a foodstuff. The power of context comes to bear.

Elsewhere, his work is more concerned with purely visual effects.

In trompe l’oeil pieces circa 1982, he coyly uses enamel on aluminum grid and honeycomb aluminum, so that shapes and imagery change, depending on the viewer’s perspective.

In the center of the gallery, Finkelstein shows a sculpture made up of large chess piece-like objects, a mutant king and queen. His Kachina series are visual delights, intricate constructions with brightly colored enamel on wood, in homage to the Native American tradition.

If Finkelstein’s art tends to be tidy in organization and vividly colored, Goldenthal’s work veers in the opposite direction. Things are ever in the midst of some metamorphosis or another, a fitting state of ambiguity for art that mines mythology and religious traditions.

At times, the art is literally coming apart at the seams, as in “Walls of Prophecy,” a hybrid concoction in which the canvas is torn and boards jut out from the surface. The twin forces of prophecy and fate seem locked in conflict, upsetting the status quo. In “Eros and Psyche,” a bust and torso are apparently undergoing a struggle of transformation or power.

Her other art on view heads in divergent directions, from the Renaissance-influenced approach of the “Weaver Series” of paintings to the Ruscha-like strategy of the “Alphabet Series,” which literally spells out themes--EROS, BIRTH, DEATH. The scheme is a bit too literal for comfort. We look for ironic chinks in the armor of earnestness.

Jointly, the couple presents a show with a lot on its mind. The work isn’t always bestowed with lucid articulation of concepts, but there’s enough going on here to provoke thought and reward the attentive eye.

BE THERE

Baila Goldenthal and Max Finkelstein show, through May at Platt Gallery, University of Judaism, 15600 Mulholland. 10 a.m.-4 p.m., Sunday-Thursday, 10 a.m.-2 p.m., Friday; (310) 476-9777, Ext. 203.