To check your aesthetic sensitivity, answer "yes" or "no" to the following questions:

1. Art is a sculpture made of french fries.

2. Art is grinding your teeth.

3. Art is a shoebox full of Icelandic darkness.

If you answered yes to all of the above, your sensitivity is first-class. You will fully comprehend this column, which is about the Shoe Box Sculpture Exhibit that opens today at the University of Hawai'i Art Gallery with a free public reception from 2 to 4 p.m. It's a kick.

Tom Klobe, director of the gallery, gave me a preview. The entries, which have to fit into a shoebox, come from all over the world in a wild variety of materials. There is a sculpture made of crocheted wire. There is a miniature Roman coliseum with a tiny TV set on the stage that works. There's a Noah's ark made of french fries. And a teapot covered with fish skin.

Pieces come from Taiwan, South Africa, Australia, Vietnam and almost every state across the U.S. My favorite is a little Rube Goldberg machine for grinding your teeth. You turn a tiny crank and the gears make a skull grind its teeth. The sculptor is asking $2,000 for his masterpiece.

An artist from Vietnam sent a battered U.S. Army helmet he picked up on a battlefield. The helmet has a bullet hole. The bullet must have killed the soldier who wore the helmet. The artist put a wooden handle inside the helmet and turned it into a bucket used for watering rice plants.

If the contents of the Shoe Box Sculpture Exhibit are far-out, the idea behind it is very much down-to-earth. "The cost of exhibiting large sculpture is enormous," Klobe explained. "Crating a big piece can cost in the thousands and shipping it is very expensive."

In 1982, two University of Hawai'i art professors got the idea of exhibiting sculpture that can be sent in a shoebox. The exhibit now shows at UH every three years, then goes on tour. It's so popular that one-third of the pieces are sold and artists from around the world compete to enter.

Klobe said the most memorable piece he can remember was an entry called "Icelandic Darkness" that arrived in a large box. A small box inside was carefully wrapped in masking tape. The curator of the exhibit cut through the tape to open the box. It was empty. Suddenly she got the horrible feeling that the box was the sculpture.

Klobe wrote to Iceland and ask permission to reseal the box, then put it on exhibit. "Absolutely not," the artist wrote back. "You've released the darkness. I'll have to send you some more."

Klobe has saved the box. One of these days, he's going to fill the box with Hawaiian sunshine then send it to Iceland. The show runs until April 14.

Reach Bob Krauss at 525-8073.