Daniel Clayman, "Pierced Volume." Photo: Mark Johnston.

There's some great new glass down on the waterfront. No, not outside (you'll have to wait longer for that) but inside the Museum of Glass and Traver Gallery, where new shows highlight a trio that couldn't be more contrasted: Dale Chihuly and Daniel Clayman (at MoG) and Richard Marquis (at Traver.)

Clayman's the first one you see at MoG. Seven huge white glass sculptures inhabit the space like Platonic ideals of geometry and perspective, an architectural drawing come to pristine life. The only one that falls a little flat is, unfortunately, the one at the entrance: "Circular Object One" (aka a wheel) turns an odd yellow on top, thanks to a spotlight trained on the wheel's bottom. (Ironic, since Clayman started his career as a lighting designer.)

But the rest are impressive. They're all made of white glass frit (particles) cast into sections using the lost wax technique (as bronze sculptors do), with the sections (usually square or rectangular) glued together into huge geometric forms. "Leaning Plane" and "Tapered Plane" are 3D explorations of perspective and angle: the first a tall, slim wall leaning out at around 15 degrees, with light filtering through photographically; the second a narrowing road of glass tapering to a vanishing point in the gallery's corner.

Clayman's curved forms entice movement from the viewer: you're pulled in by the vortex of a tapered cone, tricked by the visual planes of a gutter-like channel hung at eye-height, or compelled to walk back and forth to catch the glossiness of the outer wheel.

Dale Chihuly, "Laguna Murano." Photo Shaun Chappell.

But then in the far gallery comes Chihuly, like a baroque concerto crashing into a Zen meditation. "Laguna Murano" is a five-part chandelier, a collaboration between Chihuly and his Venetian cohorts Lino Tagliapietra and Pino Signoretto. And the detail is stunning: tendrils of amber and gold seaweed float and tangle around central buds festooned with sea-creatures. The whole thing is unabashedly sensual, with bulbous breasts pointing up into nipples, the central droplets in viscous white. Yet somehow, something's wrong--the sharks, mermaids, starfish and so on are tiny, dwarfed by the abstracted baroque tendrils, and the five pieces (three standing, two suspended) are crammed up. It even ends up looking too small for the gallery space, which is ridiculous for such opulence.

Meanwhile, over at Traver, it's a whole new world, filled with humor, self-deprecation, sly winks and general vivacity, courtesy of Richard Marquis. He's an artist who admits that his work is so diverse it ends up looking like a group show, so that's what he called it. And it's a lot of fun, all done in Marquis' signature murrine style, with dots, stripes and wavy square patterns. Familiar stuff like his oversize eggs in gilded cages sit next to new works like the Babar-curvy elephants bookending tomes marked "Dick's Works." There are pyramids with Viking horns, suspiciously witch-hattish cones.

But my favorite has got to be the "Potato Boxes," where lumpy glass potatoes sit in home-painted shelf boxes (a laugh at Dante Marioni's elegant goblets!) like a Pixar film waiting to happen. Thanks, Dick--you completely cheered up my day!

MoG is open 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays, noon-5 p.m. Sundays, and 10 a.m.-8 p.m. third Thursdays. Admission $10/$8/$6/free from 5-8 p.m. third Thursdays. 1801 Dock St, Tacoma. 866-4-MUSEUM, www.museumofglass.org

Traver Gallery is open 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Tuesdays, 11 a.m.-6 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays, noon-5 p.m. Sundays. The Marquis exhibition is up through October 5. Free admission. 1821 Dock St Ste 100, Tacoma. 253-383-3685, www.travergallery.com