For creative individuals, sometimes the burden of making a meaningful artwork is a lot to bear, especially when publicly displaying them is part of the equation. Luckily, not every artwork needs to encompass vast intellectual territory or requires hours of hard work to assemble – that is what sketches are for. As for showing off the sketches instead of leaving them in their notebooks… that is a different story altogether. At Fjord, curator Frankie Martin, a recent MFA graduate from the University of California, San Diego and transplant to Philadelphia, has called on some of his UCSD colleagues to draft the show “Sketches from California.”

Brianna Rigg, detail of “Tidal Line (or Sculpture to Run Alongside).”

Many of the pieces at Fjord were assembled in a day or even just a few hours, and although they generally elicit feelings of partial ideas, as a show they offer some insight into the mental experimentation that led to their becoming. One of the most dynamic pieces is “Tidal Line (or Sculpture to Run Alongside)” by Brianna Rigg. Wavy pieces of cut wood are riveted together in an adjustable configuration that traces the imaginary edge of an ocean or lake. Similar to the lapping waves, this piece is able to bend and change much like the tenuous edge of the tides. Rigg draws her line in comparison to the horizon as well, except that it is infinitely more tangible than either the constantly moving shoreline or the purely visual distance where earth curves out of sight. In lieu of this physicality, the artist remarks on the possibility to run along the length of this sculpture like a jog down the beach. The only problem is that, as it stands, the object only extends for a couple dozen feet in the gallery space, which would make for a rather quick sprint.

Nina Preisendorfer, “haus landscape #1.”

In a somewhat similar form to Rigg’s waterfront, we find a more domestic interpretation by Nina Preisendorfer in “haus landscape #1.” Likely inspired by the rows of nearly identical boxes that make up California housing developments, exaggerated black hills ripple across four strips of thin white paper, each peak populated by an unending row of generic, cartoon houses. Concepts of overpopulation and resource depletion abound here (these hills could just as easily be populated with trees), but as a sketch, this piece seems like merely a starting point. An entire wall or room of this kind of residential nightmare would surely have a huge impact beyond just a few small slivers of paper as it currently stands.

Clinton McCallum, “Theme Song (Beachday Version)” with Brianna Rigg’s “Tidal Line (or Sculpture to Run Alongside)” and Matt Savitsky’s “Flagged for Removal” visible nearby.

Clint McCallum has a blue, striped towel, some sunblock, and a Walkman lying in a miniscule amount of sand that blends remarkably with the painted plywood floor. Throwing Philadelphia’s climate a little California bone in the face of the quickly encroaching fall, visitors may lie down and pop on the headphones to listen to his “Theme Song (Beachday Version).” It requires a certain lack of self-consciousness to plop down on the towel and don the headphones, effectively situating oneself as part of the installation for other visitors.

Behind the not-quite-resort scene, a loop of videos from Matt Savitsky, Frankie Martin, Micki Davis and Vanessa Roveto, just in case paradise seemed too imminent. Martin depicts a group of “harbor seals” (read: men in leggings getting wet in a fountain) frolicking in a displaced downtown habitat, while Savitsky depicts a mime in drag silently agonizing the demise of a palm tree as it is cut down over the course of an afternoon.

The inclusions in “Sketches from California” may seem challenging and abrasive in their fragmentation, but the dialogue that emerges is easily just as important as a final product would be. Armed with the knowledge of how hastily made artworks fare in a gallery setting, the end result is as much a crit night as it is an exhibition, where the artists away with as much or more than the viewers.

Fjord is located at 2419 Frankford Ave., Philadelphia; [email protected]; fjordspace.com.