doesn't have a basket in the bunch.
It does have Garrett's Suspicion, next to the trilobite. This angry knotted coil of woven videotape suggest two glossy black scorpions fighting. Sprigs of black wire sprout from the tense knots. "Recent work using old videotape has allowed me to comment not only on bad movies but on surveillance and issues regarding memory," notes a nearby statement from the artist.
Another vibrant Garrett work is a big tetrahedral urn made of eviscerated stuffed animals. This florid, fuzzy work weaves bead-strung wire among patches of fluff, along with antique alphabet blocks decoupaged with old-timey prints from children's books. Exhibit curator Ann Rubin donned white gloves and carefully lifted the lid to show me its fuzzy blue-and-brown interior. The whole suggests a canopic jar for lost childhood.
Contrasting to Garrett's ebullient, flashy creations are Lissa Hunter's five serene jars, Bud, Zig, Stripe, Circa, and Urn. These six-inch-tall acornlike vessels in a range of soft browns calm the viewer with their understated dignity.