ArtHop in the spring: what a fine Fresno thing to do. Not too cold, not too hot. And light enough to easily find a parking place. Felicia Matlosz and I headed out in different directions Thursday night to hit some of the big ArtHop venues. At the top of the list is a new show at Fresno City Hall. Felicia writes:

This month's art scene in Fresno welcomes back a beloved figure: Polly Brewer, who owned Plums Contemporary Arts until she closed it in 2003. And I start by mentioning her because she has curated a wonderful exhibit on the second floor at Fresno's City Hall. It's called "Garden of the Sun," a companion event to the Vernacular Architecture Forum conference May 7-10 in Fresno.

It's a show that is rooted in the premise of how our region -- with its heat, rural landscapes and community icons -- is seen by talented artists and how this area influences their work. She freely admits there were many artists who would fit this show, but she wanted to give visitors a richer, deeper experience by focusing on the visions of seven artists in 32 pieces of art. And they happen to be well-known and respected figures: Adam Longatti (whose "House and Dog" is pictured above), Elaine Lynn, Pat Hunter, Robin Gay McCline, Sally DeLap-John, Jerrie Peters and Joel Pickford.

Felicia continues:

Brewer writes in the exhibition statement: "This exhibition is by no means comprehensive, yet diversity is the key word for the conference and for this exhibition. The land, its man-made structure, and its artists are an extremely diverse lot. Flat, hot, dull Fresno? Just a minute. That's the most surface of impressions."

Take a look at Lynn's "Field with Bulldozers." First, it is one of only two large scale paintings in this show, at something like 5-feet-by-5-feet -- It's an eye magnet from the get-go. The simple title tells you the subject, but the painting flips the subject inside out.The field is made up of long, energetic, angling streams of color -- in reds and blues and browns and yellows that remind me of a wild skirt flaring out in a windy gust -- that head for the horizon while two orange shapes of equipment work in the distance. All this capped by a grayish, white sky that simmers restlessly in the background. This is an image of working the land that transforms it into an earthy symphony.

While paintings dominate the show, Pickford presents two black and white photographs. One of them -- "Water Fountain, Crest Theater" (1979) -- is nostalgic and high art at the same time. It helps that the subject is in an art deco motif. The white fountain -- what kind of subject is that, you might ask? -- is afixed to a wall resplendent in designs of curved patterns that take on the look of smooth, polished steel. Light and shadows add to the image, giving it an "alive" feeling.

Donald writes:

At Corridor 2122, there's a good show featuring work by graduate students of Fresno State art prof Nick Potter. From Zak Welch's intriguing and tactile abstract paintings on metal to Leslie Batty's paintings of children, there's a sense in the show of personal introspection. (For Batty, it's important to acknowledge children as fully rounded people and not with a sense of sentiment or nostalgia.)

My favorite of the show: two haunting paintings by Chris Scharnick. In one untitled piece, we see an image of his mother as a little girl. Perched on a small wooden chair in a nondescript suburban living room, the figure of the girl has a bleached-out quality, as if it's a slowly fading old photograph. In the other untitled work, we join a birthday party in progress in a kitchen with an adult figure supervising a table of child partygoers. Again, the human figures are bleached and vaguely dreamy in contrast to the hyper-realistic background. In an artist statement, Scharnick informs the viewer that schizophrenia runs in his family, and while these depictions of his relatives are from happier times when the disease was not affecting lives, there is a strong sense of foreboding as the artist seems to reflect inevitable anxiety over its genetic nature. In the painting of the mother, part of the power of the image is how much more vivid are the non-human elements that dominate the landscape: a nondescript upholstered brown chair, a closet door with prominent doorknob. Both seem so much more substantial than the wispy toddler figure. Could it be that schizophrenia slowly saps away a person's connection to the world?

Felicia writes:

Downstairs at City Hall, Larry Hill is presenting 11 of his oil paintings that boldly show his command of color. This work won't resonate with everyone: It is abstract art that revels in the relationships of color that speeds up and down the canvas in sweeps and convergence. Each work has a title -- such as "Single Victory," "Grand Slam," "Lyle's South Texas," and "Big Sur" -- that may throw off a viewer.

For example, the piece named "Pike" is a conglomeration of purples and pinks and oranges and slight greens. I don't know why it's called "Pike," and maybe that doesn't matter. But, in its fascinating way, I imagined it as a rainbow that's imploded the way an old Las Vegas hotel is demolished with explosives.

But there is no doubt the paintings are dramatic and riveting. You may not know quite what to make of it, but the art is gripping in its sense of motion and speed and jarring interactions. Hill is working at a different level, in a realm of his own.

Donald writes:

At Gallery 25, a joint show features the work of member artists Lylia Carr, in a mixed-media exhibition titled "Geometry and Numbers"; and Cynthia Cameron, in an exhibition of paintings titled "As It Appears." I didn't really connect with either. Cameron's larger works (oil on wood panel paintings) are more dynamic and effective than her smaller, more intimate prints on found paper, but the artist's attempt to include a slew of contemporary political and pop-culture images results in a somewhat wan mishmash. In Carr's work (shown above is her "Geo"), which includes ten large scrolls in mixed media on masa paper together, there is something defiantly static about her calligraphic representation of numbers in different scripts along with geometric forms. The hanging scrolls lack verve and vitality.

Wrapping up, Felicia writes:

If you venture out to Margaret Hudson's art gallery, at 1946 E. Swift Ave., you'll find a room devoted to the lively drawings of Luciano Gabriel Quijano. The color drawings are bright and charming; the line drawings exhibit an intuitive skill.

Luciano, by the way, is 9 years old. He's a third-grader at Manchester GATE in Fresno who draws what he sees in his head. He's also a fan of The Beatles -- who are captured in this show in their "Yellow Submarine" phase -- and the Marx Brothers. It's an impressive display and will be at the gallery for the month of May.

At the Arte Americas cultural arts center, there's a striking new exhibit called "Movidas y Movimientos." The work -- some of it an arresting, in-your-face art -- is from Carlos Jackson, Xico Gonzalez and Maceo Montoya. This is strong stuff, with a political commentary edge that will assuredly stir spirited discussions among those who see it.

And Donald concludes:

I wound up at Fig Tree Gallery (whose Web site had not been updated by the day after ArtHop, shame-shame-shame), where Stephanie Pearl sets the stage for "Slow Dissolve" by stating that friendships can fail to thrive. "It is then that we slip into a slow dissolve," she writes. "This is my story of letting go." There's a melancholy feel to many of the mixed-media works in Pearl's current show -- likely strengthened by a muddy, dour color palette. My favorite work is "The Lonely Truth," which bucks the color trend with a vivid mustard/ochre burst of brightness. Starting at the top of the canvas, there is the feeling of a southward whoosh of motion, segueing into cloth that resembles tangled fishing nets, coagulating into a nearly solid color, and then finally breaking into a configuration that resembles chunks of luxurious paneled tiles. I like it: I stand in front of it and feel the world dissolve.