But forget the printing. The color Polaroids of lightbulbs and large silver gelatin prints of glasses filled with varying amounts of water, that constitute her second one-person show at Gallery 339 are startling, absorbing images.

You've seen Means' glasses of water, in a passing fashion, sweating on your kitchen counter on a hot summer day, or on a bedside table in the morning, with those infinitesimal air bubbles making their way upward at a glacial pace.

What you haven't seen before is that plain glass of water isolated against a black background, blown up to almost 46 by 38 inches, with all its scratches, chips, and other marks of use suddenly magnified. The effects of the water and bubbles inside the glass, and on its exterior, as condensation, are reminiscent of falling snow and constellations.

If you remember Irving Penn's remarkably pure compositions of everyday toiletries posed with Clinique products against a white backdrop, you can imagine where Means taken the humble, solitary glass. Huge, looking a little used and abused, and transparent against black, it is anything but austere.

Means' color Polaroids of lightbulbs, printed by a large-format Polaroid camera and all unique, have at least as much in common with pop art and minimalism as they do with photography. Her upright bulbs with their glowing filaments, isolated against magentas, blues and greens (made using color filters) manage to bring both Warhol's serial portraits and Dan Flavin's fluorescent light pieces to mind. As with Flavin, when he was alive and working, it seems pointless to ponder what Means will do next.

Videodrome

Mad Max, Volcano, The Day After Tomorrow, Planet of the Apes, Escape From New York, and a few other feature films of the sci-fi, apocalypse and disaster genres, plus a dash of Hieronymus Bosch and the real horrors of 9/11, have become almost seamlessly one in the sprawling video and audio installation in the Icebox Project Space.

"The soft epic or: savages of the pacific west" has to have been an epic undertaking. It consists of five separate video projections shown flush, side-by-side on the Icebox's east wall. But the imagery in each video has been conceived to join the imagery in the video next to it, so that the effect is of watching one immense rectangular panorama composed of five moving, related parts (it's like a filmic version of exquisite corpse, the surrealist drawing game). Animals dressed as humans are seen walking through a devastated city of burning buildings and falling rubble. Every few minutes, the five videos repeat simultaneously, as does a haunting surround soundtrack by Bird Show.

The closing reception on April 10 (several days before the show closes), from 6 to 9 p.m., will feature performances by Bardo Pond and the Spiral Q Puppet Theater.

Naturally

A few of the hits: Darla Jackson's Hydrocal rabbit with a plastic ice cube tied atop its head with a gauze strip; Matthew Neff's prints of exotic birds wearing those "Elizabethan collars" that prevent dogs from chewing themselves; and Serena Perrone's large, memory-infused woodcut print of children hiding in a 19th-century Southern landscape.