Three excellent young painters - Sara Fletcher, Sarah Goffstein, and Greta Songe - shine in their current exhibition at the Leger Gallery in downtown Davenport. Former students of Ron Cohen at the University of Iowa, they are all at the beginnings of their teaching careers. These artists are well on their way in establishing their personal styles in art, and all have something individual to say about experience and memory. One artist is influenced by the light and stillness of Vermeer, another by the colors and patterns of the artist Vuillard, and the third by the flowing music of nature.

It has always been a nomadic monster, roaming the Quad Cities (usually Rock Island) in search of arts patrons. In recent years, it has squatted at The Villa, the McKesson building, and (most recently) the Rocket Theatre.

Now, in its 13th year, it has taken up temporary residence across the river in Bucktown, and it has also mutated. What was once a single-minded creature - all about selling art - has now evolved into something of an entertainer. To its already formidable arsenal it has added magic and improvisational comedy and a haunted dungeon.

It is, of course, MidCoast Fine Arts' Great Mask Halloween Bash & Fine Art Auction, scheduled to start at 6 p.m. on Saturday, October 21, at the Bucktown Center for the Arts (225 East Second Street in downtown Davenport).

Les Bell is well-known in the Quad Cities area for his teaching at St. Ambrose University, his wide intelligence, and his colorful and sensitive use of the nude in his art. There are few artists who can so easily paint the human figure as the primary subject of their work. The new Leger Gallery, in downtown Davenport, is presently hosting a 10-year retrospective of his paintings.

In Bell's world, the nude form is an artistic style, a psychological mystery, and a symbol. He is painting women in their many relationships and roles - from strong to vulnerable, from innocent to wise, and from beautiful to detached. She appears as a nervous young girl looking out from behind a curtain, a busy young woman at the beach on her cell phone, a calm, dark-haired female eyeing her companion, a distressed woman turning away, an intense, worldly lady erotically drying herself on a beach, a shy young girl, a young maiden holding snakes, a waif, a French courtesan, a Spanish dancer, and many more.

When Bill Hannan first met Jeanne Tamisiea in the 1980s, she was one of three finalists for a teaching position on the fine-arts faculty at Black Hawk College. "You could tell right off the bat that she was a teacher," Hannan said. "If you are a teacher, you can spot one."

Tamisiea "tried to connect immediately," Hannan explained. She made eye contact and asked questions, and the vibe was less of a job interview than a classroom in which Tamisiea was the teacher and her interrogators were her students. "Jeanne sat down to talk to us," Hannan said. "The other two [candidates] sat down to be interviewed."

After the interviews, Hannan said, the decision to hire Tamisiea was a foregone conclusion. "We only talked about her," he said. "We didn't talk about the other two guys."