By Catherine Fox

For the AJC

An anthropologist with a camera, Sheila Pree Bright explores concepts of beauty and power in “Girls, Grillz and Guns,” at Sandler Hudson Gallery. Evidence of her inquisitive spirit, the three series sampled here also demonstrate her aesthetic chops, particularly her ability to match the visual means to the subject she explores.

In "Plastic Bodies,” the 2003 series developed during graduate studies at Georgia State University, Bright conveys the unrealistic norms of physical perfection and over-sexualization that afflict young women by Photoshopping real bodies with the plastic parts of Barbie dolls’ voluptuous, anatomically impossible figure.

The topic is not unique (nor limited to African-American women), but the photographic solution is effective. The unsettling disjunction of human and artificial reflects the contortions women go through to conform to this construct of beauty and the risk they run of becoming as plastic as the doll.

In “Grillz,” Bright investigates the vogue (now over) for gold-capped front teeth among young African-American males as a racial Rorschach. In her view, the grills, which the young men considered adornment and expression of coolness, aroused fears (among white people) because of the fad’s association with gangsta rappers.

Bright tries to defuse fears and allow viewers to see the grills as body decoration by adopting a scientific affect. She shoots the portraits in black and white, poses each subject in exactly the same way -- eyes closed, mouth open -- and hangs them here in a grid.

The men’s pumpkin grins and scrunched lids do soften their appearance and convey an innocent pride. Whether viewers will be disencumbered enough to look at the phenomenon as a mode of self-expression is another matter.

The artist’s interest in the culture of the young African-American male predates “Grillz.” Shown for the first time are the photographs Bright took of Houston hip hoppers she befriended in the mid-'90s before moving to Atlanta. In these pictures the young men stare down the camera, weapons at the ready, in poses they hope signal their toughness and power.

Bright has renewed her exploration of gun culture. She reworks one of those earlier, more documentary-style images of a man pointing a gun at the camera, so that it becomes less specific, more symbolic and even more ominous. In the new version, the figure becomes a shadowy blur, and the viewer has the distinct sensation of looking into the barrel.

Also on view is a large color portrait of a young kid who has chosen to represent himself as a bandit, aiming two guns at the camera. Is the image an indictment of gun culture? Is it a reflection of human nature? After all, the connection among manhood, power and weaponry goes back at least to Zeus and his thunderbolt.

Would your reaction be the same if this were a white kid in a cowboy costume? Are Kehinde Wiley’s portraits of street kids replacing the kings and warriors in Old Master portraits merely a more acceptable display of the same attributes?

In a sort of benign bait and switch, Bright draws us in with arresting images, then provokes us to wrestle with the information she presents and consider why we respond to the images the way we do.

Catherine Fox is chief visual arts critic of ArtsCriticATL.com.

Exhibit review

“Sheila Pree Bright: “Girls, Grillz and Guns.”

Through Aug. 14. 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Tuesdays-Saturdays; noon-5 p.m. Saturdays. Sandler Hudson Gallery. 1009-A Marietta St., Atlanta. 404-817-3300. www.sandlerhudson.com .

The bottom line: Sheila Pree Bright’s engaging photographs draw a bead on African-American youth culture.