Claude Zervas

It’s a mouthful, Motonic Simulacra, Evolved Diatomoton and the other wall-mounted sculptures, but the wall-size LED array by Claude Zervas properly belongs beneath a microscope. It’s like a giant virus or undersea amoeba flickering and blinking at you. Seemingly spontaneous eruptions of light from its tendrils make the beast appear to move, to shimmy and vibrate with life. Down at the cellular level, such organisms are probably less complicated than Zervas’ programmed diodes. The local artist also crafts more static, numinous works, such as his Yellow Formation, which casts the sort of warm glow you’d love in an alarm clock on your nightstand—only the numerals never quite emerge from the haze. Also on view are dangling pendant sculptures by Beth Campbell. They resemble giant wire earrings or inverted flow charts. And, indeed, she’s created a pair of pencil-and-paper decision trees on the walls. “I avoid speaking my mind,” she writes. “I call 911.” “I only allow myself $5 gambling money in the casino.” All these consequences spring from single human acts or decisions. Life is more complicated for us than for Zervas’ light-emitting invertebrate. BRIAN MILLER

Tuesdays-Saturdays, 11 a.m.-5 p.m. Starts: May 7. Continues through June 6, 2009