Too often these days, our experience of a work of art begins with an idea passed along to us by a gallery owner, museum curator, or the artist herself. Even if we encounter the painting, sculpture or installation before the intervention takes place, we still must square what we’ve seen with someone’s explanation or contextualization. Do we like it more now or less? Is our first reaction as valid as it was before?

Having lately grown weary of such circumspection and second-guessing, I was pleased to find myself at Francine Seders Gallery last week taking in the sculpture of Bradd Skubinna, the drawings of Robert McNown, and upstairs, the paintings of Jeffrey Burgert. All three artists share a faith in the viewer’s ability to respond to their work on its own sensory terms, unaided by philosophical musings, history lessons, or personal anecdotes.

Skubbina’s sprawling abstract wall-mounted sculpture, Everything Happened at Once, seems to almost float by as one enters the galley and walks past it. Constructed from thinly cut and curled cylinders of printed cardstock (many appear to be recycled exhibition postcard announcements from shows past), white and brightly-colored plastic bottle cap rings with their familiar serrated edges, and drinking straws all cut to specific lengths, the work has an amazing degree of energy that comes from the subtle variances of its light, color, and texture. With only slight changes in grade, the cumulative effect of the cut paper edges -- with their recessed color interiors -- give the center of the work a rough, almost sandy appearance. By contrast, the outlying sections -- built of clear plastic straws massed together with occasional star shapes or concentric rings of pink, orange, or blue straws in their centers -- appear smooth, fluid, and opaque.

Negative Space Drawing, his other large work on display at the gallery, is situated on the adjacent wall. It is a loose, irregular web of plastic bottle cap rings fastened together with paper-covered wire twist-ties. The bright colors of the materials and their delicate, stringy contours contrast with the flat, latticed shadow cast behind it. Nearby is Shift, a piece comprised of plastic bread-loaf clasps, prescription pill bottle caps, drinking straws, and tea bag tags which emanate across the floor in concentric circles from central points beside the wall. The dynamism of the work comes in part from the engineered purposes of these component parts, which were designed, of course, for snapping on, popping off, tugging upward or sucking out. Also included in the show are a series of smaller, moody abstract works entitled Blue Drawings, constructed of translucent blue plastic applied in strips onto paper. Skubinna transcends the mundane nature of his materials by identifying their potential energies and harnessing them into large, carefully constructed works of art.

If these sculptures force us to step back and get a better view of what’s going on, McNown’s ink on paper works, with their detailed lines, cross-hatchings, loops, dots, and concentric rings – all cut and reassembled into larger patterns -- draw us forward. The titles of these works, January 2005, July 2004, July II 2004, 14 April 2005, suggest the qualities or temperament of specific months and days; properties that extend beyond our memories of people, narratives, or events. McNown's compositions are, like Skubinna’s, equal parts geometry and color. In both cases, the vibrancy of their color spectrum is processed and articulated through shape and line, modulating the texture and mood of experience.

In the dimly-lit upstairs gallery are a series of small, yellow monochromatic oils by Jeffrey Burgert. As we approach and gaze at them head on, they seem to darken; as we pass them by, they fade back again to their original, lighter shade. At the angle of their greatest darkness, a mysterious grid of light appears, hovering ever so slightly above the canvas.

There is too much art today that is based upon intellectual premises rather than real sensory interaction. Maya Lin’s “Systematic Landscapes” exhibit at the Henry may be the apotheosis of this, but the trend is evident everywhere. Seeing the work of these three artists reaffirmed the primacy of an art that contains all its joys and mysteries in its own creation.