Once you experience Patty Gallagher's art during an opening reception -- where the performance aspect kicks in -- you'll never look at it in the same way again.

V.W.H. Campbell, Post-Gazette Patty Gallagher, who laughingly says, "I'm just somebody who walks around with a wig and a ball of cherries in my bag," installs her exhibition "The Dreams of Trees" at the Westmoreland Museum of American Art, Greensburg. Click photo for larger image. 'Patty Gallagher: The Dreams of Trees' Where: Westmoreland Museum of American Art, 221 N. Main St., Greensburg. When: Opening reception 6-8 p.m. Saturday (free, reservations recommended). Exhibition continues through Oct. 23. Hours: 11 a.m.-5 p.m. Wednesday through Sunday and until 9 p.m. Thursday. Admission: $3 suggested donation, children under 12 free. Concurrent exhibition: "American Scenery: Different Views in Hudson River School Painting," curated by Westmoreland Director/CEO Judith Hansen O'Toole. Events: 1 p.m. Sunday Judith O'Toole gives a tour of "American Scenery," followed by a 2-4 p.m. reception with children's activities. 7 p.m. Oct. 13 Patty Gallagher speaks about her work. Both free. Information: 724-837-1500 or www.wmuseumaa.org.

Y ou have a chance to do just that at a free public reception Saturday night when her solo exhibition, "The Dreams of Trees," opens in the Walsh Gallery of the Westmoreland Museum of American Art, Greensburg.

Gallagher is known for her pop/kitsch/surreal evocations of sprites and spirits, emblazoned with found objects, that tweak the eye and the imagination.

She gathers the materials she uses in her mixed media works from whatever sources she can -- resale shops, garage sales, used store-fixture dealers, flea markets for clothing, floral shops and craft stores among them.

"I'm just somebody who walks around with a wig and a ball of cherries in my bag," she says with a laugh.

Mannequins have in recent years become central to her pieces, and a dozen of them, give or take, populate her Westmoreland installation.

Gallagher began using them to ensure that the clothing she was creating was seen "as costume and not a thing. I had to have a model. Then they're understandable as parts of costumes."

The mannequins also have their own effect on the viewer.

"People will project themselves into the piece," Gallagher observes. "This is particularly so because of the mannequin form, which seems to intrigue people as well as frighten them." One shopkeeper she encountered years ago wouldn't go into the store's mannequin room with Gallagher because it made her feel uneasy.

"There's a primal reaction people have when they see my work. Some people, it really appeals to; some, it threatens."

Gallagher's visual works are only a portion of a larger exploration. They're manifestations of her interests in and investigations into, among others, ritual, nature, mythology, anthropology and "spirituality ... as opposed to a more definite religion."

Besides reading, she visits places considered sacred and/or haunted when she has a chance. But she's cautious when approaching belief systems and cosmological structures that run as deep as those she researches:

"I think those things are real serious issues. I think it's kind of dangerous to do them on a lark."

Gallagher was born in Letterkenny, Donegal County, Ireland, to parents who were Pittsburgh natives, and the family returned here when she was two and a half.

A resident of Fox Chapel (she cringes over the connotations the tony address has and says friends just say that she lives in her "private fiefdom"), she's recently adopted a puppy to supplement a menagerie that includes a horse, donkey, chickens and six cats.

Gallagher earned a degree in social work from Indiana University of Pennsylvania and completed a master's degree at the University of Pittsburgh. When the state began de-institutionalizing mentally challenged adults, Gallagher provided them with behavioral therapy, helping them adjust. She says the work was "very rewarding but very hard (emotionally)."

After she married and had children, she formally became involved with art; but, she says "I've always been an artist," and was making art notebooks as far back as high school.

In 1985 she started selling jewelry she'd crafted in shops, and by 1990 was exhibiting bras and bustiers embellished with brightly colored faux flowers and clumps of fruit. Large-scale pieces and vignettes followed.

She's exhibited nationally, and her solo show venues have included the Pittsburgh Center for the Arts and Carnegie Mellon's Hewlett Gallery.

This exhibition is the result of having been awarded The Westmoreland Exhibition Award at he 2003 Associated Artists of Pittsburgh Annual.

While some have read feminist, gay culture, or environmental subtexts into her work, Gallagher says such issues have usually not been on her mind. But the complexity of "Dreams" will give visitors plenty to think about, whether it was Gallagher's conscious intent or not.

"When I was little, I was convinced that trees could communicate with me," Gallagher writes in her artist statement. And a spirit-occupied tree -- with a swing that the visitor may try out -- is central to her installation.

"All cultures look to trees as having a spiritual content," Gallagher says, often as sacred dwelling places of spirits.

Two "guardians" perch on pedestals astride a doorway. Legs dangle from a chandelier based on a hoop skirt frame chandelier (from Atlanta's "Belle of the Ball" shop). A Magdeline figure with "very, very long hair" is positioned "in front of the moon" ("In one tale, she ended up as a hermit somewhere, clothed only in her long hair."). Persephone gathers with "her bridesmaids" to welcome spring.

At the entry, a large floral arrangement hides secrets within its petals. Don the headset to hear buzzing bees, another of Gallagher's favorite subjects, mixed with the music of The Doors and a couple of Disney songs. "I wanted people to really be buzzing around these flowers ... like bees ... inspecting these people inside them."

The bees may be heard by only one visitor at a time, but other sounds permeate the room.

A sound track, which is about 20 minutes long, is divided into four segments, beginning and ending with ocean sounds. Much of it has been gathered by sampling the Web.

Part one is "the microcosm to the macrocosm -- sounds too small to hear, like ants and tiny insects on earth, to huge sounds in space, like sounds from Jupiter." The second is "the four elements -- earth, fire, air, water. Very powerful words. They're sounds with a twist -- like the sound of a glacier for water."

In part three, "the shaman and the Tibetan monk are calling the animal spirits. They're calling in totem spirits to help, but in their perception and for their own purposes." The final represents "animals in the wild, without (humans) projecting upon them, existing without us in a place where we can't touch them."

As she talks, South American Indians sing softly behind a foreground chorus of crickets. Children in Africa, who have no instruments, make music by striking the river water, creating different notes depending upon how their hands are cupped. It's music that's disappearing, Gallagher says, because the people are moving away and no longer have the river.

A yipping cry comes from the "Waiting for Bigfoot" Web site. For some peoples, Gallagher says, "he's a totem man -- a paranormal spiritual creature. For others, he's an actual flesh and blood animal."

Finally, there are photographs, digitally altered and printed. The images range from mannequins in Times Square windows to root systems in the wild. One face hauntingly pivots between person and plaster.

"Is that real?" the visitor asks.

"Yes. It's there," Gallagher answers. Then adds, after a pause, "That's the question."

So what is it that distinguishes the openings? As they say in movie and theater reviews, if you don't want to spoil the surprise, don't read any further.

Gallagher often hires models to sub during openings for the mannequins in her pieces; there will be two on Saturday. The performers stand stone still and unblinking, their eyes shielded by the likes of a hat brim or mask. When unaware visitors move near the piece, the model shifts, to startling effect.

This isn't just theatrics. By projection, it adds a suggestive overlay to other objects in the room, even those not part of Gallagher's work. "How many of them have spirits that we're not attuned to?" the artist seems to ask. The experience imbues the visitor with a new awareness, and a propensity to look over his or her shoulder now and then.