Art Review

Heavy Concepts: To bring the ancient relationship between the flesh and the spirit into objects of contemporary art is to open a can of worms. To deal effectively with such a ponderous subject requires more finesse and delicacy than is shown by Dorothy Cross’ blunt sculptures at Angles Gallery. The Irish artist’s modern icons are too bloodlessly conceptual to give viewers a feel for the charged points where bodies and souls intersect.

Just inside the main gallery’s entrance lies a pair of silver-plated bronze arms, each pointing in different directions. Crafted with a jeweler’s precision, these life-sized limbs suggest the confusing aftermath of inexplicable violence. Unfortunately, they look too much like precious versions of Kiki Smith’s meaty sculptures to let you forget that you’re standing in an art gallery and not in a church.

On a nearby shelf, a twisted lump of solid silver resembles a crude dental retainer. Closer inspection reveals that this fist-sized sculpture was cast from the negative spaces surrounding a couple’s lips as they kissed.

Although kisses can express powerful emotions, Cross’ imprinted bit of metal lacks resonance. Most interesting as a visual puzzle, it fails to hold your attention once you’ve figured out how it was made.

In the room’s corner, opposite a Bible with a neat hole drilled through it, lies a bunch of taxidermied snakes beneath a noose from which dangles a large one. Although it is evident that this mini-installation is intended to broach ideas of evil and redemption, its flat-footed earnestness reads as misbegotten comedy.

In another corner sits one of the most ridiculous works to be seen in a gallery. Inside a heavy wooden trunk whose lid is propped open, Cross has placed a pair of white panties, into the crotch of which she has sewn a cow’s teat. Ideas about intimacy, sustenance and vulnerability must lie behind this work, but they’re overwhelmed by its similarity to a tasteless prank.

A lighter touch and just a bit of humor would guard Cross’ art from its plodding obviousness. Toning down the gravitas, and including some subtlety, might let the flesh and the spirit cross paths--if only momentarily.

* Angles Gallery, 2230 Main St., Santa Monica, through Aug. 30. Closed Sunday and Monday. (310) 396-5019.