Jason Childs's 17 canvases of teary-eyed figures raised the bar (and the roof) at SOO Visual Arts Center last spring. Childs's oil technique evokes a soulful Gerhard Richter, while his seemingly straight-forward reproductions of photographs work to question authenticity in the digital age. The catharsis of crying doesn't last, nor do the source images suggest anything more than fleeting photojournalism, as signified by titles such as "s8420tu6.jpg." But suspended in time, Childs's paintings mourn the loss of originality as much as they honor the anguish in the anonymous faces and bodies. That a Minneapolis artist pulled off a show of this caliber and did not immediately defect to New York is a minor wonder in itself.