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Who says art galleries are boring?

The subculture of Multnomah does not want to hear about art galleries. They'd rather hear about Taco Bell," Eli Jones, a sophomore, said. Another student used the term "boring" to describe what he thought about galleries (women tended to be less direct).

However, visiting art galleries turned out to be everything but boring for Toby Turnage, Scott Bennett and I. On entering the "Divine Art Gallery" on 3862 SE Hawthorne Blvd., our eyes were first drawn to a sign that read "Open from 9:56 a.m. to 7:04 p.m." We passed the sign and continued up a long flight of stairs. At the top was a long pipe with a stick attached to it by a string and a sign that said, "Ring chime for service." The gong was loud, but no one came to help; the young desk clerk was busy playing a piano at the back of the room.

Toby, Scott and I passed a desk with a large iguana terrarium inlaid in it and proceeded to the art exhibition. The art itself included painting, photography, modern sculpture and blown glass. Much of the more abstract modern art was beyond our comprehension, but we admired the creativity of some of the artists. All of the art was from local Portland artists.

One thought that didn't cross our minds was buying. Most artwork was around $1,000. However, the gallery didn't seem to be attracting snobbish people. People weren't coming to buy. So why do people go to art galleries? One can learn as much through art as through a novel. "You go there to think, to be expanded, to imagine, to contemplate perspective," Nathan Meenen, a freshman, said.

Toby, Scott and I discussed what we thought one artist's beliefs may have been. All of the artist's paintings were sacrilegious: An angel is depicted with a bottle of alcohol in his hands. Another angel stands next to a hotrod, representing materialism.

The world of art can be a doorstep to the cult. The day after I visited "The Divine Art Gallery," I learned it was located in an old Masonic Temple. The art is also rearranged or replaced every full moon.

If you are looking for Eastern European art, Gallery Trabant sells art made only by Eastern Europeans. The gallery itself is tiny, about the size of two men's dorm rooms put together. But the petite items on display are of high quality, ranging from fine leather Polish purses to Bulgarian dolls that would enchant any little girl.

But even more interesting than the artwork were the people who worked there. The storeowner talked with me for about 45 minutes on European culture, even though the store had closed. He told me that he goes to Eastern European countries twice a year to collect art and contact artists. In return, he voluntarily teaches courses on business marketing in Bulgaria and Poland. One of his dreams is to make a poor Eastern European artist famous.

Through the whole process of gathering Eastern European art, the owner has also become patriotic. "One of our missions is not just to sell cool things but to try to help people with their misconceptions of Eastern Europe -- that people are communists with no imagination, who don't care about what they create," he said. Art has helped him understand another culture and respect it.

"People have strange notions," he said later. "You tell them it's art and people will buy just about anything." One art gallery proves this point. When I called for a brief description of the art at "Where Is the Art?" a woman told me the art was not visual. Not quite understanding this concept, I continued to ask questions, wrenching out of her as much as I could. "You can't understand it unless you come," she kept saying. Furthermore, throughout the course of the conversation she raised her voice and was soon yelling at me.

Then all of a sudden she stopped and said, "You see, you've just seen some of my art." For the purpose of remaining sane, I chose not to ask any more questions. But you can visit her gallery for yourself: "Where Is the Art?" is located in the 24-Hour Church of Elvis.

Instead of turning art into anything, The Twist turns anything into art. Many sculptures on display are made from recycled or found material. One sculpture of a woman was composed of only found objects such as a baseball bat, a globe, a party hat, buttons, a cell phone (I wish I could find a cell phone), a flashlight, a fork, a hammer, and a license plate. However, my favorite sculpture was too big to fit inside the store. Outside sat a giant duck, about 8 feet tall, made entirely of recycled steel objects found in everyday life.

What the owner calls "junk assemblage sculpture" fascinated me and even made me consider building some of my own when I saw how much it was being sold for. "The Recycled Steel Wall Sculpture," a patchwork quilt of all found objects, was for sale at $5,600. A recycled and repainted steel bench runs $6,800. I lost all hope when the owner said the giant duck would cost "around 50 grand."

Uniquely in Portland, on the first Thursday of every month, art galleries are open late, until 9 p.m. Thursday is also the day when all the shows open. Though you probably won't be able to visit all 72 art galleries downtown, an employee at "The Quartersaw Gallery" recommended to go to at least three. All art galleries are free to visit.

Stephen Heckman recently played "hip hop poetry" with five others on pots, pans, drums and an alligator call whistle. Demo cassettes of this new art are now available for $45.



Worldly pleasure is portrayed as life's highest goal in "Oh My Heaven," by Beverly Weaver ($3,800).

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