At the Sunday opening of the annual Masters of Fine Arts Thesis exhibit, the atmosphere was light and pleasant, with artists and their friends clustered in knots of conversation. Their discussions were punctuated by joyful screams and embraces. Yet behind them upon the walls the artwork brooded, a slightly sinister element in an otherwise cheerful afternoon.

The yearly exhibit, split into three parts this spring due to the amount of artwork available, is always a memorable event, as students nearing graduation pull out all the stops and present their most potent work. This year was no exception, and the artwork on display in this first installment left an indelible impression upon many of the viewers.

One of the first pieces to catch the eye upon entering the main gallery is a collection of oversized purses by Polly Giragosian titled "Clutches, Crutches, Insecurities." Constructed from fabric and bubble-wrap and painted in brilliant lipstick colors, these playful pieces soon reveal a sinister side. Near them are a set of stockings studded with needles, and a smaller purse covered with hairpins, elements of standard femininity revealing the dark underside of seemingly benign fashions. Giragosian seems intent on depicting the painful side of such cultural burdens, translating purses into traps and low-heeled pumps into torture devices.

A collection of large digital images lines the far wall, full of bright colors and ironic imagery. Exploring gender roles and the stagnant atmosphere of the "ideal" family, Coffey's bright collage images contrast and combine cliched cultural elements with digital eye candy. Marked by ironic phrases such as "Men have 3 choices: Work, Work, Work," the large laser-printed compositions don't break much new ground in either politics or digital imagery, yet are quite compelling both aesthetically and ideologically.

Also of note in the main gallery are the pastel and pencil works by Ginger Slonaker, seemingly whimsical and bright-colored pieces with disturbing undercurrents. Created while living in the Netherlands, her pieces explore the feelings of alienation and self-doubt created by living in an unfamiliar culture.

Using the repeated image of long, narrow stairs, a unique feature of Dutch architecture, her images are filled with distorted faces and observing eyes condemning her "Americanness," her sense of difference. Slonaker's use of contrasting colors and textures adds depth to the children's-book whimsy of her graceful pencil lines.

On the east wall of the gallery, a series of pieces by Esther Granata use bizarre materials and abstract imagery to explore the physiological link between emotional state and bodily health. Passion and despair wreak havoc on an otherwise healthy body, as Granata's distorted, visceral images depict quite vividly. Using paint, watercolors and unorthodox materials such as scraps from medical textbooks, dead insects, and seed pods, her brightly colored, intricate compositions are covered with words and phrases of someone at the mercy of the person's throbbing, passionate heart and rapidly decaying stomach lining. Skillfully created, spooky wax models of the organs in question hang from the wall, a gory reminder of the mess we carry just beneath our skins.

In the south wing of the gallery, a quieter atmosphere prevailed, created by two powerful and eerie installations. Tori Arpad's enigmatic "Assumed Histories: Immersion" claimed an entire section of the small room, covering all four walls. Lining the gallery at eye level are a series of wooden blocks, each with an image laminated on the surface, the chain broken by an occasional scrap of extremely decayed swimming flipper. The images - photographs of water, air and the ubiquitous symbol of the flipper - were tortured and manipulated in dozens of ways, both digitally and by hand.

Three free-standing aquariums are arranged within the gallery space. Bearing the words "Breathe," "Dive" and "Remember," each contains a mystery: one holds a wax sculpture of a head with exaggerated, primitive lines, another a measure of muddy water, and the third has another head sculpture covered with salt. These pieces, combined with the collection on the walls and an endlessly repeating audio recording of voices discussing water, makes for a truly mysterious exhibit. Of all the pieces in the show that would have benefited from an artist's statement, this one cries out for more information.

In the other section of the wing are a series of paintings on wood by Sarah K. Bean. Combining astonishing talent and shocking subject matter, her pieces use a deft, almost photorealistic technique to deal with the painful subject of child abuse. As calculated as a well placed punch, Bean's pieces knock the wind from the viewer, as an eye seduced by the initially pleasing aesthetics suddenly confronts the raw ugliness of that taboo subject.

Unnervingly graphic, Bean's pieces deal with a hidden and rarely discussed aspect of our culture, as prepubescent girls sprawl prostrate on mattresses. Avoiding the trap of allowing politics to rule her pieces, she creates a complex atmosphere of emerging and brutally tainted sexuality. "Sisters - The Mandrake" links the body of a young girl to a humanized mandrake root, a tuber of supposed magical powers that, according to legend, screams when pulled from the ground.

As I viewed the entire collection, I couldn't help thinking the lights should have been slightly dimmed, in order to present some of these pieces in the proper atmosphere. As lively as the conversation at the opening was, it seemed to quiet and falter every time someone broke off to gaze at the artwork. Artist Ginger Slonaker offered a perspective on the "darkness" of the show: "I think it is easier to let out hate and anger, because when you are angry you know you are right - you know what you feel is genuine, not wavering." The willingness of these artists to gaze at their subject matter with focused, unblinking eyes allowed them to create a powerful, compelling show. If this first installment sets a standard, we can expect this year's MFA show to leave a lasting impression on every viewer.

The first installment of the MFA Thesis Exhibition will be showing in the University of Arizona Museum of Art through Sunday. The second part will be in the Joseph Gross Gallery from Wednesday through May 10. Hours are 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. weekly and 12 to 5 p.m. Sundays. The gallery is closed Saturdays. Call 621-7567 for more information. The reviewer may be contacted at eilersm@aruba.ccit.arizona.edu.