Upon entering the gallery, one would probably feel a little awkward, surrounded by sexually explicit drawings focusing on male and female genitals. However, after analyzing the work more carefully, I found that there were deeper meanings behind the nudity. Noriko Shinohara’s “Cutie” series of cardboard boxes that resembled homes depicted aspects of American life unfound in conservative Japanese art. For example, in one scene, the female protagonist dressed up as a dominatrix and wanted to drive a Cadillac, eventually leaving her lover because he could not supply her with the material goods she desired. The strangest thing about these pieces was how elementary they appeared, both in dialogue and in their cartoon-like images, because the story clearly involved adults engaging in sexual activities. Perhaps it represented how the Japanese artist felt when she first moved to New York, like an infant arriving in a strange, new world.

Hirsohi Sunairi’s “White Elephant” was another outlandish piece – a white elephant sculpture which symbolized benevolence in Buddhism, the dominant religion in Japan, broken into scattered pieces to exemplify the tragedy of September 11th as a disturbance of peace and order. In this way, the artist used an icon from another culture to tell an event in American history. Once again, I was baffled by the message behind the art and how innovative the creator had been in connecting the two together.

Nobohu Nagasawa’s “Bodywaves,” a glowing rocking chair that made soothing sounds of crashing waves when sat on, effectively showed how modern technology influenced contemporary Japanese art. The same applies to Yumi Kori’s “Shinkai,” a meditative room with floating balloons illuminated by eerie red lights. It was like something from the Twilight Zone, and all I could do was wonder where the paper screen doors and floor mats were.

My favorite, however, had to be Ayakoh Furukawa’s shocking “100 Ways to Torture the Innocent.” Adorable yet sickening, this piece showed a variety of methods to mutilate a hamster, including sticking needles into its body and strangling it with string. Although not done through a particularly odd medium, I have never seen such animal cruelty in traditional Japanese art. Along with Ushio Shinohara, who ditched the paintbrush and chose to put on a pair of boxing mittens to punch the art onto his canvas instead, it was obvious that contemporary Japanese artists were taking new risks for artistic expression.

No doubt the average American would find this exhibition peculiar. However, I believe the viewer should go in with an open mind and expect the unexpected. What seems odd to one may be considered art to another. Profound and beautifully eccentric, I personally found the works far more interesting than the ones in popular museums around the city

Even more startling, perhaps, were Fernando Carpaneda’s bloody figurines. Clad in black, the characters were either vampires or they were impaled in some way. Clearly the three-dimensionality escalated the eek-factor. The realism of the dying man in “You Hurt My Feelings” sent shivers down my spine, as it appeared he was looking directly at me with one bulging eye. Had he been sketched on a flat plane, the effect would probably have been far less chilling.

Yet despite the daunting appearances of perverse child-turned-monster trick-or-treaters or the sexual allusions found in Frank Russo’s drawings, some of the artworks in the gallery were actually quite amusing. In Mike Rimbaud’s “Song of the Lost Soul,” he cleverly used a guitar as his canvas. Painting an image of a woman on the body of the instrument, he used the neck to add a snake and a bee making their way into the woman’s mouth. It was an extremely creative way of using up all the space available. Another witty artist was James Wrona, who turned “The Last Supper” by Leonardo Da Vinci into an adorable “The Slashed Supper” with Halloween characters. Even children would enjoy identifying the figures, which included Chucky, Freddy, Jason, Dracula, Frankenstein, Werewolf, and Mummy.

Eventually I got used to the rock music, which was really fitting for a Halloween art show. By having this sort of “soundtrack” playing in the background, the viewers’ pulse would quicken as it does when gazing upon the disembodied arms and legs by Martina Secondo Russo. Personally, I found this exhibition much more fascinating than walking through haunted houses in amusement parks. Edgy and bold, the artists undoubtedly convinced me that the Halloween show is not, based on popular misconceptions, only for Goths or punks.

Outside the Winter Garden at the World Financial Center in Battery Park City, children threw yarn between two buses to create a “spider web” composed of a plethora of colorful strings. The finished piece would be used to raise money for “The Drawing Center,” a small art museum in the city. In addition, volunteers taught crocheting and knitting with yarn, rope, and even shoelaces. Children were most attracted to the web though, crawling under it and hiding beneath the string. I was hesitant about throwing some yarn in there since it might hit someone I couldn’t see. This was the only setting where no actual sketching was done.

Nearby, another activity was taking place at the Teardrop Park. I was given a mirror and two index cards to draw my own eyes. Others sat on grassy hills to paint flora in black ink. Most of us were frying from the heat at that time due to lack of shading. Afterwards, our works were displayed on scrolls lined on the pathways.

The last destination was at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of the American Indian. The Northern Tide Dancers (including Jeffrey Gibson and Athena LaTocha) from Alaska performed for a small audience whose objective was to draw the body in motion. The dancers sang and yelped, clad in red and purple capes with beads tied around their feet. One of the performers had on a hawk costume I was particularly fond of, with a beak-like headdress and holding feathers in his hands, moving as if he was gliding in the air. Throughout the dance, there was a lot of stomping of the feet, shrieking cries, spinning in circles, side-to-side swaying and shrugging of shoulders. On the second story, children were making stenciled designs with roll-on paint (imitation balsa wood prints) and designing oak tag boxes with images from the exhibition (resembling feast bowls) at the Rotunda.

Overall, this was a well-organized event. Although I would have loved to play laser tag, it was originally scheduled for 9:30 PM anyway, five and a half hours later. Still, I would not recommend “The Big Draw” to most teenagers or single adults. A majority of the participants were children and parents so a student like me would feel somewhat out of place. Moreover, the activities, though ranging from a variety of mediums, were rather simple and independent, and there wasn’t a good deal of artistic guidance available. For those serious about art, this event would not have contributed much to your knowledge. Furthermore, people who do decide to attend this event in the future should remember to wear lots of sunscreen since most of the activities were outdoors. Primarily for kids, “The Big Draw” was like an extensive art class in a public elementary school. Perhaps the event planners can arrange something a little more suitable for all ages next year.