Deceptively promising a standard sprinkling of college art, "Visual Prospects"-a show displaying works by the fine arts department's post-baccalaureate program-greets the visitor with a few abstract tirades of angry color. But upon descending into the core of the exhibit-housed in the elegant Dreitzer Gallery at the Spingold Theater Center-images of more skilled, versatile and emotive student artists come to light. Portraiture, the bread and butter of a good exhibit, is provided mostly by Susan Tsoglin, who captures two students with coy sincerity-infusing them with personality, secrets and as much intrigue as a familiar Brandeis face can muster.

Ekaterina Svistun is the bearer of the seductive, with an alluring, charmingly frightened woman hiding in the shadows of her "Nymph Surprise." Meant for the mantelpiece of a warm family room of velvet and burgundy, it is a painting of feminine sexuality reminiscent of older times. A skillfully depicted vase and flower, illuminated and wedged into the frontal plane, adds yet another aspect of the traditional. I imagine the artist as a young woman in a 19th-century chEteau, learning from her somber governess to paint a delicate still-life with melancholy hues.

While Svistun paints an ode to femininity, Helena Wurzel's super-sized opus has unmistakable feminist appeal. Whether wittingly or not, she puts a modern spin on Edgar Degas' idealized portrayal of Spartan women, rendering a modern brood of "female warrriors" stronger and healthier than those of Degas' "Young Spartans." In a color palate reminiscent of early morning winter, Wurzel's three protagonists stand stoically against the cold in matching red bathing suits, implying more comfort and uniformity than sex appeal. We've caught them in a friendly snowball fight, but the rigidity of their stances suggests that a spear in hand would be far more appropriate.

Continuing along in the exhibit, it is difficult to simply pass by "Spring to Summer" by Sara T. Meyers, who cartoonishly renders a young girl with all the sloppy, chunky effort of her pallet knife. A dead expression, awkward stance and forced three-dimensionality are the strengths of this piece, creating the illusion that, at any moment, the girl will stumble out of the canvas dripping color and sadness.

Her specter-as though Pinocchio were made not of wood but of gobs of paint-follows us to the next few pieces but quickly dissipates upon sight of Lika Yurkovetsky's "Azure," the gem of the exhibit. We see Monet's water lilies cast in shades of blue, white and grey slowly revealing the shape of a woman-her slender back bent over a vanishing leg ending in the hint of an ice skate. She gathers mysteriously from the slabs of paint set on the canvas by the pallet knife. Although she is a skater, I come away thinking of a geisha in wintry Japan-a testament to the inexplicable elegance of the painting.

Nadia Ayuri was an artist with less to paint and more to say, creating an eerie cartoon landscape-not unlike the one created by Radiohead in the music video for "Subterranean Homesick Alien"-in her two untitled works which dominated the gallery wall space. It is a world with a sinister monk, a young boy neatly displayed by a tree branch, green grass and free-floating Arabic text. Even if the exact message of the work isn't transmitted, the eerie overtones are, leaving the image embedded in one's memory.