Rarely has surrealism felt as serene and friendly as it does in the work on display in the ArtSpace Galleries in the Center for the Arts.

"Falling Awake," the joint exhibition by Wilson ceramicist Valerie Seaberg and guest exhibitor Martin Garhart, remains on display in the ArtSpace Main Gallery through Jan. 29, as does Miga Rossetti's "Where To Put It All," in the Theater Gallery.

Martin Garhart's large oil paintings come closest to the unease we typically associate with surrealism. Ordinary objects achieve a mystical aura and imbue the accompanying landscapes and figures with a sense of mystery or foreboding. Heavy wood frames and an often burnished light lend a timelessness to the oils. Expert renderings generally suggest tranquility. But odd icons and a nearly oppressive sense of quiet can tip the viewer off balance, and the familiar and the foreign silently battle for dominion over the viewer's feelings.

Similarly, a half dozen or so watercolor diptychs by Garhart create dissonance, with images from nature sharing the paper with abstract compositions or human artifacts taken out of context, like two random snapshots on a page in a photo album. The title of one, "What was said remained," offers a hint to the artist's concerns, suggesting how dreams and memories persist and influence us as we navigate the reality of everyday life.

Many Jackson Hole art watchers are familiar with Valerie Seaberg's ceramic work, but the dozen-plus sharing the ArtSpace Main Gallery with Garhart's paintings represent a leap beyond the familiar work. These pieces are quite a bit larger than what I recall seeing at past Seaberg shows, but size alone doesn't account for their impact and presence. Shaped like blossoms one might encounter on another world, or coral growths pulled intact from the bottom of the sea, the forms are strange and inscrutable – even more so for the bands of horsehair that soften the lips of each structure – and yet the exquisiteness of the craftsmanship exudes a warmth, a friendliness, a love, perhaps, into which one wants to dive and bask. Again, the strange and the familiar combine to create tension, but in Seaberg's case, they achieve an equilibrium.

Miga Rossetti's show turns the Theater Gallery into a veritable aviary, with birds and nests dotting or dominatine her patchworks of landscapes and colors. Canvas sizes vary from six-by-six inches to a square yard or larger. The dreamy naturalism brings to mind Frida Kahlo, while riots of color and pattern evoke Henri Matisse. The deftly sketched benign creatures reminded me of Paul Klee's "Twittering Machine," but a sense that something else might be lurking beyond the horizon suggested Giorgio De Chirico. The results generally are bright and whimsical (though not cartoonish), but with hints of shadows that bring both compositional and emotional depth. All those birds gathered together in one place give the Theater Gallery an edge that would make Alfred Hitchcock proud and give Carl Jung much to think about.