Life’s a Beach

Artist Robert Moskowitz went to the beach--Venice Beach, to be exact--and found a diverse cavalcade of humanity. His field report is a show now at the Ventura College Gallery 2, a kind of microcosm of human experience presented via a spectrum of characters found there.

Yet his goal isn’t purely reportorial. The art, which varies from subtle single monoprint portraits to large, busy paintings, carves its own path between faithful representation and abstraction, using these figures as expressive vehicles.

In the painting “Cruising Venice,� men and women, compacted in their relationship to one another yet oblivious to each other’s existence, are positioned as if walking past a hidden camera, a candid eye view.

Sometimes, his work conveys the viewpoint less of a compassionate chronicler of the species than of bemused voyeur, tickled by what he sees. He takes note of salient, quirky aspects of his unsuspecting subjects, calling one monoprint portrait of a grinning woman “Peace on the Side,� for the peace symbols on her shorts. Another piece is called “Purple Socks,� after the hopelessly unfashionable hosiery of a pot-bellied man.

In the most dramatic and the most mannered composition, aptly titled “Mixed Messages,� a disconnected group of eight men stand self-consciously on the wave-lapped sand, in unnatural positions that suggest they were rendered individually and pasted into the scene, adding to its surreal edge. The sand itself is orange, either because of the sunset’s color distortions or by the distorting force of a dream.

Among the figures are a Bible-thumping proselytizer standing on a stepladder and delivering a message that seems to invoke the ire of another man, who flips a bird, while another wields a yo-yo and still others stand aloof, as if waiting for a bus or modeling for a workman’s fashion catalog. It’s a strange vision, at once theatrical and mock-journalistic.

Moskowitz sends out mixed messages of his own, which keep the art just open enough to interpretation to makes things lively.

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Over in the New Media Gallery, Charles Morgan offers his own tightly focused exhibition, with very different goals and ends, but also presenting art that doesn’t easily announce its intentions. Like Moskowitz’s work, Morgan’s is glittery and light on the surface, but underscored with meanings.

He presents an unusual blend of media, basically color photography of desert scenes by night. But these are not purely photographs; he also often projects neon-colored forms in light on desolate rock faces, imposing ghostly washes of culture on the skin of nature.

The most immediate reference point is Native American, suggesting pictographs, albeit in the modern, urbanized material of colored projections. There’s a crazy, cognitive dissonance in finding the mugs of David Letterman and Johnny Carson on the rocks, as if they’re sages or medicine men of their respective generations: In a way, they are, symbolizing cultural continuity for TV watchers.

But elsewhere, the images of natural elements, bits of text or loosely drawn animals have a more mythological effect, tapping into the Native American idea of lingering spirits in a place. “The Dreaming City� shows Joshua trees bathed in unnatural, Las Vegas-ized hues, as if the gnarled trees represent an atavistic city of their own, in some dream realm.

DETAILS

Robert Moskowitz and Charles Morgan, through October at the Ventura College galleries, 4667 Telegraph Road in Ventura. Call 648-8974 for gallery hours.

Look Closer: Alice Cahill’s photography, now on view at the Moorpark College Administration Building, goes somewhere else entirely, finding abstraction in existing scenes. She uses macro-vision, hyper close-ups, to transform real forms, usually found in nature, into unaccountable, abstract images that say much about the secret, undiscovered beauty of the world.

“Nasturtium Dream� offers a warm, fuzzy hum of orange and black, without revealing its source, while “Curling Out� zooms in on a tiny, tender green leaf in a spiral.

Sometimes, Cahill’s work veers into cornball scenes, as in “Heart Between� and “Marbleous,� but overall she’s onto something. At its best, this is art about the fine art of looking closely.

DETAILS

Alice Cahill photographs through Oct. 31 at the Moorpark College Administration Building, 7075 Campus Road. Gallery hours: Monday-Friday, 7 a.m.-7 p.m.