Optimism trumps failure

There's not a lot of space for art -- especially sculpture -- at Concrete Walls @ Cafe Back Door. But Rochelle Botello has turned the tight confines to her advantage, creating an installation of mostly doll-size figures, made of duct tape, cardboard and fabric, that is dreamy and down-to-earth sweet, without being sugarcoated, and rough around the edges without being callous or unduly enamored of abjection, suffering and failure.

Empathy, not vengefulness, loads Botello's otherwise forlorn figures with a wide range of emotions. Titled "Wrestle My Tuesday," her tragically optimistic works make intuitive, mind-bending sense.

Five little drawings, in colored pencil and watercolor, and six small sculptures have been hung on the walls and placed in the window. They set the stage for the quirky drama that unfolds overhead.

Botello's drawings have the feel and flavor of Marcel Dzama's homemade cartoons, except that hers are a little less elegant and slightly less pointed in their storytelling. Most feature interactions between two creatures, often depicting moments when the tables turn and things don't go as expected.

Some of Botello's wall sculptures are structured like bookends -- paired things that do their thing by pushing in opposite directions. "Pretty Boy" and "I'll stay here as long as you need me to" capture the vicissitudes of lifelong relationships, when couples form wholes that are stronger and more resilient than either half is on his or her own.

The highlight of the show is the flock of five colorful birds and a trio of guys that Botello has suspended from the high ceiling. It's as if a daydream has taken on a life of its own.

The yellow bird is the only character with anything like superhero powers. A cascade of rhinestones spills from its backside.

The guys are far more ordinary. A boy, dressed in a cape and white underpants, looks less shocked than amused, despite the bird stuck in his mouth. A parachuting teen, whose briefs are being tugged off by a furry critter, appears to be similarly entranced. And a fat man who is stuck in a life preserver and sucking his thumb seems content, not embarrassed.

In the forgiving world inhabited by Botello's dyed-in-the-wool misfits, growing up -- otherwise known as resolving psychoanalytic conflicts -- is less important than wrestling a little pleasure from life's ups and downs.