GERTRUDE ABERCROMBIE, SEARCH FOR REST (NILE RIVER), 1951, COLLECTION OF SANDRA AND BRAM DIJKSTRA.

There are more than 80 paintings in the exhibit “Gertrude Abercrombie: The Whole World Is a Mystery.” I looked at every one — most of them more than once. It’s a hypnotic, entrancing display that captivated me for hours.

It’s also a perfect example of how to present a single-artist exhibition that will please experts and novices alike. But we’ll get back to that subject.

On view through June 1 in the Carnegie Museum of Art’s Scaife Galleries, “The Whole World Is a Mystery” is a career-spanning look at the artist, who was born in Texas but is closely associated with her adopted hometown of Chicago. Abercrombie developed a singular visual language characterized by certain repeated images — dead trees, doors, cats, clouds — that make her work seem like an extended, symbolic conversation.

Or, perhaps, like jazz, repeatedly exploring and recontextualizing ideas in the way musicians play with musical phrases and motifs. Abercrombie was close with the thriving jazz scene of mid-century Chicago and was embraced by its stars. According to Dizzy Gillespie, Abercrombie was “the bop artist, bop in the sense that she has taken the essence of our music and transported it into another art form.”

Her work is decidedly surreal; doors with no hinges float in the middle of the street, ladders climb to clouds and chaise lounges glow in the moonlight on barren plains. Unlike the intense surrealism of her contemporary Salvador Dalí, however, there’s a subtle, cool quality to Abercrombie’s work. She embraced the movement while separating herself from it: “Surrealism is meant for me,” she said, “because I am a pretty realistic person but don’t like all I see. So I dream that it is changed. Then I change it to the way I want it. It is almost always pretty real. Only mystery and fantasy have been added. All foolishness has been taken out. It becomes my own dream.”

Strolling through the exhibit — which is separated into two long corridors — allows the viewer to observe how Abercrombie’s interests changed over her lifetime. (She was born in 1909, began painting in the late 1930s and died in 1977.) Throughout, however, a certain enigmatic tone persists; even when she begins painting still lifes, it is with an otherworldly curiosity somewhere between ominousness and playfulness.

GERTRUDE ABERCROMBIE, DEMOLITION DOORS 1964, ILLINOIS STATE MUSEUM PURCHASE; PHOTO: ILLINOIS STATE MUSEUM.

Needless to say: I recommend a visit to “The Whole World Is a Mystery,” in large part because I’m so taken with Abercrombie’s work. But I’m equally impressed with how well the exhibit introduced me to this artist — with whom I was previously unfamiliar — giving precisely the right amount of background, context and additional material.

Abercrombie’s paintings are neatly and (mostly) chronologically arranged. In each new room, an easily digestible block of text explains the stylistic and personal changes in the artist’s life that are relevant to the nearby paintings; a free guide, available at the entrances to the exhibit, provides added detail about select paintings.

In one room, with some of Abercrombie’s beloved jazz music playing, the longer exhibit guidebook is available for your perusal. (Carnegie Museum of Art co-organized the exhibit with the Colby College Museum of Art in Maine.) If you’re particularly interested, you can buy that book in the gift shop, along with the expected array of prints.

In short: There are lots of well-organized paintings to look at. The exhibit gives you plenty of context, but not too much. And if you’d like to dive deeper, you can. You can continue listening to the accompanying playlist on Spotify, if you’d like.

Many museum exhibits overwhelm with information. I’ve been to many museums, both in Pittsburgh and elsewhere, where I have no idea where to begin or how to understand what I’m viewing; I’m left wandering around idly until something grabs my attention. Conversely, “The Whole World Is a Mystery,” gently but decisively, guided me through a comprehensive exhibit — and I emerged as a devotee.

It’s a testament to how strong the curation is at Carnegie Museum of Art, a world-class institution that constantly proves why it bears that label. And it’s a lovely tribute to Abercrombie, an undersung artist whom I can now count among my personal favorites.