By Terri Ciccone

After getting off the Morgan stop a few weekends ago, art lovers were greeted by a giant Paper Mache robot, lounging on a sidewalk. Inside 56 Bogart, a lady was rolling around in a sleeping bag, and “living sculptures” were posing in crazy outfits at the end of the hall. Partly due to the recent discovery of Bushwick by the New York Times as “a raw-edged art hub,” a certain level of edginess is expected to be seen in there. Some expect to be blown away by crazy avant-garde art or weird imagery, with which Bushwick artists rebel against the confines of gallery expectations and collectors in Chelsea. But sometimes you just see some damn good work, even if it may lean on more traditional concepts.