In Robert Glover's sculptures art imitates life, or more exactly nature. Long-time contributor to the L.A. sculpture scene, Glover shows less-than-life-size vertical pieces wrought from unglazed, buff-colored clay. All are roughly based on the upright cylinder, but Glover hand works the clay so that it lumps, coils and fans around itself in an upward motion that looks like aged bone fossilizing into weird organic shapes as we stand there.
Glover has a knack for duplicating the randomly accumulating, yet still intelligent order of a coral reef or a shell. The conceptual twist here is that, like Stonehenge, the very placement and disposition of the works imply some votive and ritual function grafted onto organic matter by man; the tension between nature and society here adds interest. More than Glover's squat mounds of pewter and terra cotta (also on view), the blanched clay works have a puzzling grace that is appealing and sophisticated.