Iosufatu Sua, Steve Miller & Mark Moody

IOSUFATU SUA

Somewhere in the middle of the Pacific, north of the Marquesas, south of Hawaii and some distance east of Brobdingnag, lies the land of Pepelo Island, a place where the inhabitants create lovely, brightly colored objects used for traditional rituals, farming, and tasteful interior decorating. It's funny, but the collection, "Artifacts of Pepelo Island," brought back from a recent trip by Seattle-based artist Iosufatu Sua, sure has an uncanny resemblance to the hip-hop painter's own work. Mere coincidence, I'm sure. Or, maybe an example of those essential archetypes running through all great art. In addition to the artifacts on display at Bluebottle you'll find several of Sua's own riffs on the "savage" aspects of Pepelo artistry, (including Ulu Po'o, above). This little exhibit asks the question: would you rather visit an anthropology exhibit of ethnic art, or a show of contemporary street painting? And if the answer is the former, Sua wants to know just what's at the root of that preference. Oh, did I mention that "pepelo" means "to lie" in Samoan? Just a thought. Reception: 7-10 p.m. Sat. Dec. 4. Bluebottle, 415 E. Pine St., 206-325-1592. 1-7 p.m. Tues.-Fri., noon- 6 p.m. Sat.-Sun.

STEVE MILLER & MARK MOODY

You can't get much more divergent than these two photographers: Steve Miller's "Milky" captures the reactions of a bunch of naked people having gallons of milk poured over them, while Moody's "Dust Collectors" is a series of photos of dust-encrusted entymology exhibits. Miller's photos, according to the artist, are supposed to be about the pleasures and dangers of desire in the age of HIV-AIDS, but the photos work on a lot of different levels—one can't help being startled by the jarring juxtaposition of black and white in Alix (pictured above). In some ways, the white milk combines with the stark white background to erase Miller's subjects, who display ranges of emotion from giddiness to impassiveness. Moody's bug pictures are also about transformation and erasure—the creepy, ethereal little images of pinned insects under a decade of dust remind me of the march of time crushing everything under its boots. The perfect cure for those wintertime blues! Reception: 6-8 p.m. Wed. Dec. 1 (Additional First Thursday opening: 6-8 p.m. Thurs. Dec. 2.) Gallery 110, 110 S. Washington St., 206-624-9336. Noon-5 p.m. Tues.-Sat.

 
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