Over a century after his death, the tropical hues and fecund shock of Gauguin’s famous canvasses have been thoroughly absorbed into our visual vernacular. Native girls lounging on beaches, the ripe fruit and palm trees—these images are postcard-familiar to us now. The first painting Gauguin (1848-1903) sent back to market—and it didn’t sell until after his death—was the 1891 Vahine no te Tiare (Tahitian Woman With a Flower), whose subject is rather timidly and conventionally posed in a borrowed dress. What blasts through are the primary colors: red, yellow, and blue that set off her startlingly non-Caucasian skin tone. By the time of The Bathers (1897), Gauguin has given himself over to his Polynesian imagination—a river scene of four half-dressed nymphs, garlanded with flowers, guarded by snoozing dogs, a vision of Eden in which the painter himself is the only Adam. There’s not much personality and certainly no realism to these women; their features have been flattened out and subordinated to the bold colors. To complement Gauguin’s work (about 60 pieces in total), SAM presents an equal number of Polynesian artifacts rendered in wood, stone, feathers, bone, etc. None of which, unlike Gauguin’s prolific output, was meant for gallery walls or sale. The problem with setting these alien-eyed Tiki icons and coconut bowls in an art museum is that they’re not really art. They’re examples, fascinating anthropological specimens from a time before Gauguin. Note: The show has been extended one week; and SAM will be open late, until 9 p.m., during its final week. BRIAN MILLER

Thursdays, Fridays, 10 a.m.-9 p.m.; Wednesdays, Saturdays, Sundays, 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Starts: Feb. 9. Continues through April 29, 2012