The work of Edith Vonnegut is part of ‘The Vonnegut Family of Indianapolis: A Legacy of Creativity’ at the Indianapolis Art Center.

Vonnegut visited Indianapolis last weekend for the opening of The Vonnegut Family of Indianapolis: A Legacy of Creativity at the Indianapolis Art Center with an additional private reception benefiting in part the Writers’ Center of Indiana; but it’s not the first time the novelist/artist has exhibited his work here. This time, though, Vonnegut’s prints are accompanied by the work of his son and daughter, as well as modest examples of the output of his father, Kurt Vonnegut Sr., and his grandfather, Bernard Vonnegut.

Certainly, enough has been said and written about the Vonneguts’ connection to Indianapolis; most are aware of the architects’ contributions and the novelist’s highly-revered works. And yet, when Vonnegut Jr. pays his former hometown a visit, we still find something to say about him, his art, his writing and, perhaps most of all, his eccentricities. Vonnegut is revered far beyond the confines of our small state. He continues to be quoted as one of a few wise literary elders whose opinions on everything from politics to the social consciousness are taken seriously, or at least paid attention to. A recent example: “There is a tragic flaw in our precious Constitution, and I don’t know what can be done to fix it. This is it: Only nut cases want to be president.”

The obvious, and perhaps tired, question is, does Vonnegut’s art stand up to his literature? The answer is complex, as so much of his allure is tied up in the comedy and tragedy of his characters, wrought with intellectual vigor and humor. Prints such as “Trafalmadorian Movie Star” and “Trout’s Tomb” obviously reference his characters, while “Mutt, White Edition” and “May I Have This Dance?” appear to come from someplace else. Vonnegut, though, has a consistent and inimitable style, as compelling visually as it is verbally. His pictures seem to emanate from one or two sweeps of an almost unsteady, delightfully imperfect hand, resulting in a stylized representation of a figure or image. “Vasectomy,” like so many of his pieces, is clearly a visual joke: Flowers bloom from the side of a pot that has been cut open so fewer flowers emerge from the top.

Vonnegut’s daughter, Edith Vonnegut, who is said to have sold works to the likes of Julia Roberts and Susan Sarandon, also has a witty edge. Her “Domestic Goddesses” series borrows from classical imagery, manipulating it to depict masculinized women conducting the domestic business of cooking, cleaning and child-rearing with heroic aplomb. Vonnegut’s son Mark, a pediatrician, creates watercolors, but without the hard-edged irony of his father or the visual strength of his sister. Instead, his pieces, though lovely, seem tentative.

Legacies are a strange beast, and while the apple may not fall far from the tree, it may end up a different color altogether. The Vonnegut Family of Indianapolis: A Legacy of Creativity continues through Aug. 29 at the IAC, 820 E. 67th St., 255-2464.