Larry Bell's new watercolors transform what we usually think of as emptiness into a concentrated force field of electrifying energy. At Off Main Gallery, 30 works on paper made over the last three years demonstrate that sometimes less is more, especially when Zen serendipity enters the picture.

Each of Bell's lovely paintings occupies an approximately 2-by-2-inch section at the center of a sheet of white paper that measures 10 inches on a side. More important, each of these sections of dribbled, dabbled and blotted paint does not form a soild block of color. Instead, the Light and Space artist has limited his swift, flick-of-the-wrist brushwork to the left and right edges of each tiny square, leaving relatively wide swath of negative space running vertically down its middle.

These blank spaces recall moonlight reflected on a lake's choppy surface. As such, they appear to be the opposite of empty: shimmering glimpses of bright dancing light.

Bracketed by irregularly shaped blotches of powdery pigment, they complement these craggy components to form abstract landscapes whose small size is belied by their visual impact. Vast expanses seem to have been compressed into Bell's watercolors, which combine the space-saving efficiency of microchips with the limitless tranquility of traditional landscape paintings.

In the 1960's Bell made a name for himself with variously sized cubes constructed from sheets of clear and treated glass. Following the same logic, his humble watercolors use apparent emptiness to highlight the fullness of those moments we tend to call trancendent.