Tim Noble & Sue Webster at The Goss-Michael Foundation

Sublime, ecstatic, whatever you call it, art occasionally rises up even beyond the intentions of the artist who made it. This happens briefly in the current exhibition at The Goss-Michael Foundation, a selection of works from the Brit duo of Tim Noble & Sue Webster on view there through September 30th. Yet, just as quickly, it drifts back into the ordinary, akin to the ebb and flow of the sexual play to which much of their work alludes.

The scene is set upon entering the darkened gallery, with the flickering fountain of chromatics entitled Excessive Sensual Indulgence, beckoning from across the room. Moving nearer the piece, the heat given off from the lights begins to bridge the physical space between viewer and work.

That moment is the first clue, hinting at the best of what the two are up to. The undeniable spectacle of the physical medium giving way to the immaterial sensation of energy flow between object and observer.

Moving into the main space, this first high quickly ratchets down to a rather ordinary neon piece, Fucking Beautiful. A repetition in white light of the title phrase taking the form of an "I Love You" heart, and no I'm not talking about the now ubiquitous "<3" of text messaging fame. Please, can someone, anyone do something interesting with neon after Bruce Naumann?

Nearby, Dirty Narcissus sports an earth-toned mass of rubber atop a soiled pedestal. A turbulent repetitive grouping of male genitalia gripped by a woman's fingers, the piece feels like futurism run headlong into a porno scene. The artists however, are not content to "let it ride" with this compelling physical presence.

Taking it one step further, they use light to project a shadow of the piece onto the nearby wall, revealing a two-headed silhouette of the artists. And there, in all its glory, is the "magic and illusion" of which their bio speaks, which does illicit a momentary "how did they do that?" moment, just before it gives way to a "you know, that was a cool piece before they got fancy and tried to say something profound with it" feeling.

Rounding out the main room is another lighted sculpture, Metal Fucking Rats, which deftly accomplishes what the prior work strives for. A seemingly random grouping of welded scrap metal which sits on the floor transforms into a shadow of two rats getting it on, en flagrante delicto.

This, my friends, is that moment of transcendence, connection and meaning rising up from a pile of garbage on the floor. Flesh giving way to spirit, in the unlikely form of copulating rats, life itself emerging from the chaos.

After viewing the sculptural work, the framed grouping, The Joy of Sex comes across almost as an afterthought. A series of prints based ostensibly, on the book, the works show the two artists naked, in various forms of coupling and display. While well drawn, the images bare no intensity, no passion, not even the basic lust of the internet porn variety. Ironic yes, but also like watching two sex workers doing their jobs in earnest 'til clock out time.

With all its ups and downs, this exhibit shows a gifted team, who to their credit, are not taking the easy road of superficial glitz that some of their YBA counterparts have ridden to fame. Having said that, the best of their work hints at the possibility that they may be able to shed the lingering residue of cliche that even the best give in to on occasion, and ride their own idiosyncracies into the orgasmic unknown.