This week, an artist walks on eggs, oft-blindfolded performers have a big show, and two heads lie on a coffee table in a Hollywood apartment.

Blindfolded singing artists
Artists Martiniano Lopez Crozet and Milena Muzquiz began performing together as the entertainment duo Los Super Elegantes in 1994. Both lived in San Francisco then, so they would go to clubs and sing while blindfolded because they believed the blindfolds made sincerity easier. By 2001, they had a record deal, and in 2004, they performed a multilingual musical, in which characters pondered the end of the world. At one point, the character Tunga, played by Lopez Crozet, puts on a blindfold and says, “I have an idea! …. Imagine everything you can imagine.” He walks out into the street and the other cast members, also blindfolded, follow. “Free the passions! Forbid prohibitions! Open the prisons!” everyone says. Los Super Elegantes performs at Gavlak Gallery this weekend, during the opening of the duo's exhibition "I Am the Door.“ 1034 N. Highland Ave., Hollywood; Sat., Sept. 9, 8 p.m. (323) 467-5700,

On eggshells
In 1981, artist Anna Maria Maiolino scattered 70 dozen eggs along cobblestone in Rio de Janeiro. Then she walked in and among them, and invited onlookers to do the same. Elegant black-and-white photographs of this performance, and of performances in which she placed eggs in other settings (on a bed, for instance), appear in the Brazil-based Maiolino’s current MOCA retrospective. She’ll do a version of the egg-walking performance, called Entrividas or Walking on Eggs, at the museum this week. 250 S. Grand Ave., downtown; Thu., Sept. 14, 7 p.m. (213) 621-1741,

Allegorical cannibals
Two heads made of beeswax, rubber, pigment and human hair lie on a coffee table in Yaron Michael Hakim’s exhibition “Anthropophagy,” installed in the well-appointed loft-turned-gallery Artworks. Behind these heads, which look as if they were just tossed away and left to rot, hangs a painting on unstretched canvas. The show's title means “eating of human flesh by other humans,” and two wild-haired naked men are disassembling a third man’s body on a work table. Weirdly, though, the exhibition doesn’t feel that gruesome — the works, elegantly made, instead feel allegorical. They're like a warning: Humans have the potential to go way too far. Don’t let it happen. 1645 Vine St., Hollywood; through Oct. 26, by appointment.

All blond levity
The mailman stopped in to look at Andre Butzer’s paintings at Mier Gallery the afternoon before the exhibition’s opening, and he seemed to approve. In the smaller gallery, Butzer had painted small pieces of thick paper black, leaving a faint, linear scratch of white on each. In the large gallery, one nearly 8-foot-wide, all-black canvas hung adjacent to an even larger canvas. Everything was spare, dark, abstract and minimal, except for the childish 9-foot-tall portrait of a cartoonish, big-eyed blond girl in a messily painted dress, dancing again a burnt-orange background. That girl broke the mood and made it clear that, no matter how many black paintings with thin white gashes he makes, Butzer doesn't take himself too seriously. 1107 Greenacre Ave., West Hollywood; through Oct. 7. (323) 498-5957,

Original wild woman
Artist Lynn Berman, who curated the performance series “Conduction” at Fellows of Contemporary Art, will also participate in it this weekend, during a night of collaborations. She and poet Eve Luckring plan to collect complaints anonymously from members of the public and then respond to these companies in real time with either a drawing or poem. By the end of the performance, complaints, drawings and poems should abound, all displayed in the small Chinatown space. Later the same evening, Ashley Romano and Ari DeSano will use words and dance to tell the story of BigFoot Patty, “the original wild woman.” 970 N. Broadway #208, Chinatown; Sun., Sept. 10, 4-8 p.m. (213) 808-1008,

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