For some, black is a state of mind. For Brooklyn artist Vincent Como, who grew up in a small Pennsylvania town near Pittsburgh's steel mills, it's a way of life. It's also his way with art.

For proof, close the door on Peery Hotel's vintage elevator and descend to the basement. There, in the small room with green carpet that's titled the House Gallery, you'll find the exhibit "Haunting Modernity," four works key to Como's achromatic vision.

Take them one by one. Like the blank stare of a stranger who says nothing, or the pitch-black room free of the dimension of light, each pulls you in with a whisper that sometimes threatens to spill out of canvas' edge in a silent scream.

"Dark Benediction," with its rock circle in front of a canvas saturated with 15 layers of inky darkness, hints at the beginnings of a religious ceremony. Which it is, if you consider the black tourmaline crystals thought to repel negativity in certain New Age circles.

Inspired by a German poem that's an ode to a lover who died of tuberculosis, "Hymns to the Night" throws mist around the edges of 15 black rectangular shapes. All, of which, can be stacked into a portfolio case, which hangs nearby on the wall. The case, of course, is black.

Como's "History of Painting" series takes one dozen different frame designs from throughout art history, each with a canvas painted inside painted black.

"Blackspace," which Como painted in a series of 100, is the artist's acrylic-and-ink homage to the everyday person's need for a bit of black now and then. Portable in size, and each with a numbered (albeit, white) cardboard case, it's pitch black and ready for on-the-go gazing during those spare moments of a bus or subway commute.

Like coffee or caviar, each of these artworks is an acquired taste. For Como, a large part of black's attraction is that its taste stretches long into whole passageways of dense, metaphorical meaning. That means everything from heavy metal music to the black cowboy hat of the bad guys, the black pride of the Civil Rights movement, the dark matter and black holes of astrophysics, the black prima materia of ancient alchemy and Islam's black rock Ka'abah of Mecca.

That Como can offer riffs of context in ode to black speaks to how much he enjoys bridging the gaps between art history and culture.

"I want it oversaturated with meaning and ideas," Como said. "Working in this context is like a can of orange juice concentrate. You pour liquid into it and it keeps going and going."

His dedication is almost as saturated as his art. Como himself wears black at all times, offering a peak into his travel suitcase as proof. During his flight into Salt Lake City for the May 6 opening of his exhibit, he listened to Chopin's "Nocturnes."

"This exhibition is indicative of the work I'm engaged in for the rest of my life," Como said. "I'm committed to black."

Como is a rare artist who works from both a modern angle reminiscent of abstract monochrome works, and a classic angle with an emphasis on metaphor, said Julie Dunker, owner of the Peery's House Gallery.

"It's rare to find an artist who sticks with one idea, and then runs with it to see how far he can take it," Dunker said. "For me, that's where the most creative work comes from."

One drawback Como admits to, though, is the polarizing nature of his chosen path. People gravitate toward firm reactions of love-hate -- or would that be black-white -- when they see his work. Appeal may be limited, but he welcomes the additional metaphor.

"There's very little middle ground, I know," Como said. "You either get it, or you don't."