A red light casts a shadow on the tiny figure wrapped in a black satin robe and hood and suspended from the ceiling. Other six-inch figurines wearing the same pointed hoods and robes glimmering of red, white and purple satin sit atop horses and in coffins and cages.

Ink and graphite drawings and snapshots of sinister-eyed, hooded figures line three walls.

Two signs hang above the frames.

"Open Meeting. Ku Klux Klan. May 28, 1966," they both read.

Artist William Christenberry's Klan room appears as part of his larger exhibit, "Reconstruction," a collection of his Alabama-inspired, mixed-media works since 1961.

The University of Arizona Museum of Art and Center for Creative Photography have won scorn and praise for sponsoring the exhibit because of the Klan tableau.

"We tried to communicate to the community that it's an art exhibition and that it needed to be seen in context with the rest of his work," said Nancy Lutz, assistant director for the Center for Creative Photography.

Lutz and other museum administrators met with the University Campus Crisis Committee last month to quell concerns regarding the exhibit, particularly "The Klan Room."

"To create images that we don't deal with and can't see helps bring issues to the floor," said the center's curator Trudy Wilner Stack in the March meeting.

The tableau, about the size of a dorm room, contains more than 450 Klan objects. They exist as drawings, paintings, photographs and dolls.

Because the Klan has always been secret, Christenberry said, a common perception of the Klan has always been white muslin sheets.

But the contemporary Klan, he says, dresses in purple, green, white, magenta and black satin robes. This is what he represents in his art.

"A doll carries interesting weight," Christenberry says, citing the uses of voodoo dolls and fertility cult figures in certain cultures.

"Any time you reduce the human form or make it larger, something happens in our psyche, makes us rethink why it is such a symbol of something," he says.

The Klan Room has only been displayed in two other locations, but not with all of his work. The UA will be the first to exhibit all of Christenberry's art.

Other institutions who had expressed interest in the UA's decision to display Christenberry's art pulled out of the sponsorship for unknown reasons, Lutz said.

There has been hesitation in the past from other museums to show his art because of the topic.

"The Klan Room needs to be seen in context of what he has to say," Lutz said.

Most of Christenberry's art is drawn from his experiences growing up in Alabama, where the Klan exists as a dark part of Southern culture.

"I would like people to see continuity and totality of my expression in all forms, from 1960 to 1995 - to see evolution, passions and involvement with all subjects, positive and negative," Christenberry said.

The UA Museum of Art and Center for Creative Photography have provided books for those who see the exhibit to scrawl their impressions.

Reactions range from admiration to disgust.

One Tucson woman wrote that though she was disturbed by the figures, she thanked Christenberry for bringing the issues to view.

"It is very difficult to express what is ugly in America but endlessly important," she wrote.

However, an anonymous visitor remarked the exhibit was "thoroughly disgusting" and was unhappy with the artist's "obsession with this horrific thing."

Christenberry says the Klan motif began to surface in his art after a 1960 encounter with a robed Klansman on the steps of the Tuscaloosa County Courthouse in Alabama.

He says his work "Behold" in 1964 contains the earliest manifestation of the Klan.

The rest of the Reconstruction exhibit includes more than 150 pieces, in various mediums, that reflect Christenberry's experiences in Alabama.

"I don't think I could express myself through one medium," he said.

Included in his works is a photograph of a house built by a proud one-armed man. Other pieces include three-dimensional miniatures, snapshots, paintings and sculptures of stores, houses and churches found in Alabama.

"I don't feel offended by it, but I feel something," said Patricia Blackwell, information coordinator for UA News Services after looking at books containing his work.

A group of 40 students, faculty and staff from the University Campus Crisis Committee walked through the exhibit Friday with Christenberry before yesterday's opening.

"It's nice to have emissaries kind enough to come learn about his art," said Wilner Stack.

Bobby Browning, program coordinator for the College of Agriculture, said, "It's so beautiful, but it's scary the (Klan) exists to portray."

Lynn Van, junior majoring in French, said she could see into Christenberry's mind though his art.

She said the Klan room showed how "troubled and disturbed" he was about the Klan.

"It showed how morbid and twisted Klans members can be because of their hatred," Van said.

Jamede Reece, psychology junior, said that although the exhibit was a little shocking to her, she commended the artist for providing a channel to help everyone become aware of every aspect of the culture, good and evil.

"We can't just hide it," she said.

Christenberry emphasizes that his work is only an interpretation of the Klan.

"I'm not a propagandist and I don't believe art does that. It simply makes clearer things to help bring about understanding and improved perception that increases a person's ability to feel," he said.

Cecilia Lou, assistant dean of Asian Pacific American affairs, said she had a better understanding of the exhibit after walking through it with Christenberry.

"There is a contrast between good and evil between any culture and he was trying to show that," she said, adding that some works in the tableau were disturbing.

Tisha Guildehaus, Pima Community College student, said, "It's controversial, and for anyone to bring it out has got guts."