Drawers are used as places to store, keep or hide personal objects. Symbolically, they have innumerable meanings: an untidy drawer can show the chaotic or inner turmoil of the owner, a locked drawer, secrets; an open drawer, opportunity.

In the case of artist Andre Benoit's use of drawers as frames for his two-dimensional assemblage works, the latter seems most likely. His imaginative, minimalist art is an opportunity for the viewer to explore familiar scenes, objects, animals, birds and marine life presented in the forms of discarded objects; much as the artist may have while creating them.

Displayed on the walls of the stairway leading to the second floor at Gold/Smith Gallery is the assemblage art of local physician/artist André Benoit. A plein air painter of 30 years, he began his own exploration into this art form in the fall of 2013.

The theme of his show is entropy.

“Assemblage tries to contain. I didn't want that. I was looking for entropy — unbridled energy without containment, without a focal point,” Benoit said. “I try to lead the eye like a pinball moving from one area to another.”

A perfect example in this show is Benoit's “Still Life in Yellow Paint.”

Seemingly encased in a drawer frame, shapes reminiscent of primary-colored building blocks placed in such a way, that the energy is palpable. Painting it all one color, other than black, was a suggestion made by artist John Vander, of Gold/Smith Gallery.

Benoit was considering painting it all black, shades of Louise Nevelson, but had mentioned this yellow he had to Vander.

The same piece in black would have slowed the energy to a crawl. This is one of the most intriguing assemblages in the show.

“I use wood existing in its raw form that has been cast off; interesting pieces that have the potential for representation of other forms,” Benoit said.

Benoit applies a reductionist approach to his assemblage works by simplifying each one to the bare minimum, through shape, color and contrast. His sole tool is a miter saw, although most of the pieces in his assemblages are used in their original found shapes and then glued into the frame — most often, a drawer that has been sized back to keep it from protruding too far from a wall when hung.

He is particularly drawn to drawers with dovetailing, a type of joinery in which sides of a drawer (in this case) are joined together by ends that interlock like a piece in a puzzle. Benoit accentuates the affect of the dovetailing by rubbing the corner areas with linseed oil.

Why bureau drawers? Just as the objects used in his art are found, so are the drawers. And, Benoit said, he enjoys old, handcrafted things.

The pieces in his current show at Gold/Smith were assembled on his stove top or over his kitchen sink. This artist lacks studio space, which forces him to lose himself in one piece at a time.

“It is confining,” Benoit said. “I sometimes wonder what would happen if I had more room to work on more pieces at a time. Using the drawers for frames also saves space because they stack well if I don't build them out too far.”

Benoit is always on the look out for new cast off materials to increase the chances he will have just the right piece. Although, if he doesn't have what he would prefer to use on hand, he has no problem substituting something else.

Benoit uses puzzle pieces, wood, of all varieties, in its raw form and from furniture, and, in the case of the piece “Holy Mackerel” — balsa chips used as shipping filler.

“Holy Mackerel” is rich in texture and colors of blue, white and black. At first glance it reminded me of a piano, which led me to recall a great album title, “You can tune a piano, but you can't tuna fish.” The shapes, their arrangement, and the textures really make this piece pop.

“The white boxes on the Mackerel are pieces of balsa wood that come with an adherent netting on the back,” Benoit said. “When I saw that, and the texture of the mesh, I thought it would give the fish a nice surface texture, which I painted over.”

In “Stormy Weather,” discarded puzzle pieces reminding him of stratus clouds were used to add to the dark, danger-threatening scene depicted.

Dagger-like waves surround a tiny lobster boat, white-tipped to create the illusion of a wild sea. Even the fish at the bottom of this drawer-framed vignette appears to be affected by the elements — its mouth is open and tongue extended out like a scream.

For this reviewer, every piece tells its story. Some, like the delightful “Fiddleheads and Butterflies,” begs to be hung in a child's bedroom. This colorful, whimsical piece with a bright yellow sun (is that a top to a container?), bumblebees, birch trees, bow tie shaped butterflies ... it's a sweeter world, the garden.

Foraging for discarded materials for his art appeals to the plein air painter in him, engaging his mind and imagination in the out of doors. He never knows what idea will be inspired by a piece of wood, or what type of wood will be laid in his path.

Whether painting or assembling, this physician of 33 years understands the importance of taking departures from life and the challenges it will always present.

“You lose yourself in your art,” Benoit said. “It's a good place to find refuge.”