A heads-up to Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA) visitors: Mark Handforth: Rolling Stop is an easy show to like. The label “easy” is not always desired in the world of contemporary art, implying decorative or, worse, lacking intellectual depth. But this mid-career survey of the first Miami artist that MOCA ever highlighted in a solo show back in 1996 is plenty serious, delving into issues of the impact of the urban on the environment and on our souls, and into the nature of artistic composition itself.

Start by sitting on the bench in the middle gallery, flooded by the light from the centerpiece of the exhibit, Eclipse (first made in 2003). It’s a signature work of Handforth, made of neon tubes, physically illuminating all the other artworks in the show — the spray of light from the 100 white fluorescent beams of the eclipsed sun that covers 80 feet of wall engulfs the visitor in a warm glow. A huge aluminum wishbone sculpture is one of the pieces being irradiated, placed in front of the bench in the middle of the room. The wishbone can start to look like a dinosaur skeleton in a science museum.

Both these works reveal recurring traits in Handforth’s work. The emitted light from the sun creates a soft environment (and can appear at times violet and purple), but it is produced by that distinctively urban — and harsh — chemical element of neon. His sculptures, crafted from industrial materials, experience an anthropomorphic change when you gaze upon them.

In an adjoining room, red light emanates from the end of a street lamppost, which is jutting from what looks like a serpentine body. Hanging from the ceiling is a magnificent clothes hanger; the light reflected on it from Eclipse creates a shadow and another sculptural element. But what also becomes illuminated is the interaction with this particular environment, how little space these large sculptures actually take up. The explosive sun seems so dense at first but is really just made up of tubes. The black hanger in essence consists of one twisted wire — or line — that floats in the air.

The literal lightness makes these works accessible, even playful; pieces and themes to contemplate but not to overwhelm. Lampposts continue to make a presence in the exhibit, along with the remains of a phone booth, a warped traffic sign, a trash can.

The title, Rolling Stop, references these urban signals of contemporary life, and also asks the attendee to slow down, stop, and smell, if not the roses, then the cement.

MOCA has also chosen a good time for us to stop and take in Handforth’s body of work at this point. Although the British artist has made Miami home since 1992, most will be familiar with his work elsewhere. He was part an initial wave of artists who made a splash outside of Miami in the 1990s; he joined up with New York’s Gavin Brown enterprises (where he shares a roster with the likes of Martin Creed and Peter Doig) and wound up in the Whitney Biennial in 2004. Handforth, art schooled in both London and Frankfurt, has shown often in Europe, and this past summer he unveiled four outdoor sculptures at Chicago’s Museum of Contemporary Art.

Inside out

MOCA’s current survey includes outside work as well, as that is another critical aspect of his output over the last 15 years. Although most of the 22 pieces in the show are from 2005 and on, in the museum’s courtyard is an early work initially made for MOCA in 1998, called Herbal Hill. This tilted metal railing acts as any fence or barrier does — dividing space, marking territory — and is a reflection on lines that define artistic composition as well as property and value. Two other sculptures dot the outdoor area, including a neon moon and aluminum star.