Were accustomed to seeing dead sharks and sliced-up anatomy in the gallery, but what to make of sectioned orange Spaulding basketballs? Suspended in blocks of clear resin and Plexiglas, the balls are quartered like shanks of meat. Theyve been pulled apart and misalignedsomething like an unsolved Rubiks cube, but only in one color. On the walls, local artist Daly takes X-acto to photos of the same object; here their shapes are distended and recontoured into new oblong-ish forms. You think its some easy digital manipulationthe dragging of a cursor or flick of a mouse. But Dalys hand-wielded blade is responsible for the resculpting. Just like dribbling or shooting or passing the ball in a game, these works on display in Visual Fiction retain a sense of haptic craft behind themits all about touch, in the fingers and wrist. On the court, a basketball is merely an instrument, a tool. Here, its been retooled into something strange and deformed that will never again touch a net. BRIAN MILLER
Tuesdays-Saturdays, 10 a.m.-5:30 p.m. Starts: Oct. 1. Continues through Nov. 14, 2009
