The title of this exhibition alludes to the intended completion of 52 books in 52 weeks, but is in fact misleading, unless you take notice of the slick little addition symbol positioned post-numerals. In July of 2003, Icelandic artist Sk�ta Helgason (who goes simply by "Sk�ta") set out to produce 52 books in as many weeks; in actuality, the ambitious endeavor took seven years, but I'm still impressed with the outcome.

An idea for a large-scale book project developed when Sk�ta was creating an exhibition catalog for a group show in which he was involved. During that time, a maddening flood of ideas took up residency in his mind, he states in book 01/52: "My contribution for the show was what I named ‘Fluxus Genetics' - a search for genetic linkages to Fluxus in contemporary art practices." Fluxus was an international group of artists, architects, composers, and designers, which included founding member George Maciunas and Yoko Ono. Sk�ta's work focused heavily on discerning conceptual "children" - relationships between the work by Fluxus and those they influenced. His work on that exhibition book, which serves as book 00/52 in this show, resulted in a sudden geyser-esque surfacing of a series of book ideas.

Sk�ta describes the deluge as annoying, and he made a contract with himself - present on the gallery wall, in all of its comically correct legal jargon glory - to complete the book-a-week project, "allowing for various extenuating circumstances like family matters, financial needs, or Acts of God [... which] occurred with frequency," book 01/52 relates. Another poster-sized legal form similarly describes his subsequent release from the project. The smallish one-man library is an impressive feat, and one worth spanning some time in perusal mode.

Stretching the definition of "book" to encompass two and three dimensions, one-offs, reproductions, short tomes to the extremely long, the exhibition includes rows of tables with books under glass held up by paper cups. Bookshelves hold browsable versions of some of the books, a wearable book on dress form (47/52 is a short-sleeved black garment covered in retail tags of every label and price; all seem to be marked down or from discount stores, documenting the story of bargain-obsession), and a Mac viewing station-booth with a projector set up to allow a digital browsing of the work. You can also view images and video of many of the books online at vsw.org.

In his provided statement, guest curator Scott McCarney, an artist and educator, says that "a common theme in the books of ‘52/52+' series is the richness of our attempts to organize, mark, and chronicle the passage of time, to collect the fractured moments of daily life." This is an act not unfamiliar to anyone who keeps a photo album or scrapbook, but the key here is the subtle effort at digestion and sense-making of the experience; a poetic, connecting look at the aspects of life one man has encountered and mused over. "Time is relevant, if not contiguous: consider these books as discreet moments unbound by daily existence," says McCarney.

The subject matter is as varied as the media and binding techniques used, the diversity reflecting whatever Sk�ta was meditating upon, including his native Iceland, landscape, travels, and people. Item 35/52, or "I Can't Get Enough of the Beautiful People of Canal Street," is a stack of pieces of transparent shower curtain printed with cartoon frogs, bound with two shower rings. I was interested to find what I was drawn to by glancing at the rows in the gallery, and what piqued my attention just from reading the provided list. This latter group includes the humorous 06/52, "Icelandic Sheep in Cyberspace," a stab-bound, thick stack of pages of simple images of sheep posted on the Internet by "farmers, tourists, and aficionados." It took weeks to "herd" these images of Icelandic-American sheep, says the artist, who grew up on a sheep farm in Iceland.

In many senses, every book is Sk�ta. Books 22/52 to 25/52 are "Collected Works: Food Books," documenting his meals - after all, you are what you eat. Book No. 9 is "Last Year Reading 2002: including the books I did not finish," a book of images of other books on subjects ranging from art photography to fiction to comics to essays, with a few repeats and only a couple of which I've read myself. "36/52 + Metro Travelogue" is a thick stack of metro cards bound with a metal ring. Expiration dates printed on the backs reveal the span of time we're dealing with.

A simultaneous exploration of paranoia and humdrum routine is found in "Frequent Fliers," book No. 5, in the form of a stack of pages covered by an image of a commercial jet flying through unbroken blue sky. Inside we find all manner of familiar in-flight emergency protocol directions, from old school illustrations to stills from computer animated instructors.

Spanning the length of three tables, No. 20 depicts "Fence at Lj�tsstadir," in an accordion-folded image so long it piles thickly in two places. Some frames contain only one lonely, tilted post, some none at all, and almost-invisible wires are stretched throughout. Grass, rocks, and wildflowers are occasionally broken by the shadow of humans, but otherwise the picture is empty as the artist followed the lonely route of the broken-down fence.

"52/52+" neatly explores a magpie artist's documentation and preservation of collected items, experiences, memories, and ideas, revealing much about the artist and his concerns, tastes, and values, each piece a mini biography in itself.

"52/52+"

By Sk�ta

Through July 30

Bookstore Gallery at Visual Studies Workshop, 31 Prince St.

442-8676, vsw.org

Thursdays 5-8 p.m., Friday-Sunday noon-5 p.m.