Human Sexuality: the Final Frontier! Here is the truth: we have always stood in awkward, vulnerable terror of our sexual nature. In lusting after strict and neat definitions, we forsake the beauty and freedom that can be found in seeing that the reality of sexuality is elusive - a complicated and shifting spectrum of genders and sexual preferences. But as a society we're simultaneously openly obsessed with sex. And judgment. And there's where it gets ugly: we have allowed this bewilderment to be exploited by uncompassionate people who define for us what is right, normal, and healthy, and what falls out of those favored categories.

Over the past few decades, lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgendered artists have increasingly shunned these stifling social constructs by using their artwork to self-define and share their experience with the world. This month, you can get the stories from the source by viewing the 10th annual "ImageArt!" show at the Visual Studies Workshop, in coordination with the 17th annual ImageOut Film Festival.

The first art you encounter upon entering the gallery is Richard Harrington's "Look-Say," 18 poster-sized, acrylic-on-board, vintage-looking "flash cards." Each card shows a letter of the alphabet, a matching word and picture, and phonics key. The nine cards on the left grouping include formerly innocent words immediately identifiable as part of our modern, bigoted vernacular: pansy, fairy, fruit, queer, faggot, queen, and others, and each picture matches the traditional dictionary-definition of the words. The grouping on the right side is identical, except every picture is replaced with one of the same young man. The sinister power that language can wield is evident in this work.

In the provided artist statement, Harrington states that he locates "existing images and text found in toys, games, textbooks, and teaching materials" from the 1960's and 1970's, and recontextualizes them, in order to explore "popular culture gender propaganda and its effects on the formation of identity." Harrington's other piece in the show is "Family of Four," which are essentially more-than-life-sized paper dolls of two men with two children. The smiling kids stand in front of the happy couple Dad and Rick, closer together behind their kids, with no stifling politics to interrupt their content unit.

Manuel Pena, who is interested in "the homoerotic gaze" and "how gender organizes and disorganizes society," explores the private dwelling of two men in "Dream House Series 006" and "Dream House Series 009," two digital prints of a pair of sexy man-dolls, all segmented limbs, ripped muscles, and sexy glances, engaged in mid- and post-seduction.

A different gay male identity is captured in Alan Charlesworth's color photo "Bear Trek Pool Party 2008." When I met Charlesworth a couple of years ago, he introduced me to bear culture and opened my eyes to an unexpected challenge within gay male communities: struggling with not being the stereotype. Our media suppresses most gay identities that don't fit the type that we have deemed to be tolerable - think of Will and Jack from the sitcom "Will & Grace."

"The stereotypical homosexual male is commonly featured with an impeccable hairless and toned body," says Charlesworth. "The bear culture has always dismissed these stereotypes and continues to question the idea of what it means to be beautiful." By using a slower shutter speed, a blur of movement is captured, except for a few still couples who embrace and kiss. A mirror on a far back wall reveals the artist in the style of painters of old who showed themselves in the portrait. This also symbolizes that Charlesworth has found a place within the bear community, though he himself is not a bear.

Erin Ireland's "Intuitive Core" is a small bronze abstract figure with a body like a calla lily, vulval forms curling and opening here and there. The armless, headless figure is elegant, but hints at the female body objectified, identity-less. The female identity is tightly bound up with the physical form; we are our bodies. This is even truer of the gay population: society defines them by their sexual acts and little more.

One of two large oil paintings by Joleen Beckman, "Megan at Her Mirror," is a wonderfully executed portrait of a striking brunette busy painting her toenails. Particularly great attention is paid to the detail of the skin over her Achilles tendon, tense from holding her foot steady for the task. Beckman's recent works "explore issues of female identity through images of reflection and the construction of outer appearance," she says. Fragmented views of the figures in her paintings investigate the disconnect between what is there, what we think we see, and how we perceive and reconcile each. The intimate moments allude to the traditional and unselfconscious "woman at her toilette" genre. "Jesi at the Mirror" is a lovely and pensive androgynous figure, and Beckman plays with gender definitions by using "the" in the title, as my keen-eyed mother pointed out.

We all love love. When we are lucky enough to find it, genuine and glowing, we should do everything in our power to foster it. Yes, sexuality is complicated and messy, embarrassing and vulnerable. But are we really going to stand in self-conscious terror of our diverse desires while we let a few authorities control us through exploiting that fear? No phobe-o!

ImageArt

Through October 25

Visual Studies Workshop, 31 Prince St.

442-8676, imageout.org

Wed-Fri 3-7 p.m., Sat-Sun 2-6 p.m.