Art and alchemy often go hand in hand. A block of stone becomes an elegant nude study. A sheet of cloth and some tinted oil becomes an Old Master painting. A hunk of wood becomes a Chippendale chair or a Townsend-Goddard chest. A bicycle seat and a pair of handlebars becomes a bull’s head.

In “Pulp Function,” a clever and entertaining new show at the Fuller Craft Museum, in Brockton, Mass., the artistic magic is directed at another everyday material — paper. As a result, many museum visitors may never look at paper towels, cocktail napkins or even disposable diapers the same way again.

Of course, most visitors will also know that paper has a long history as an art-making material. Medieval manuscripts, Persian miniatures, Old Master drawings — the list of paper-based art forms is virtually endless.

Yet it’s only recently that artists have started using paper not as a blank slate on which to draw, doodle or print, but as an expressive medium in its own right. For these artists, paper isn’t something to be taken (or used) lying down. It’s something you can cut, carve, loom, mold, even turn into furniture and jewelry.

Organized by Lloyd Herman, a freelance curator who specializes in contemporary craft (and who mounted the popular “Trashformations East” exhibit at the Fuller two years ago), “Pulp Function” features the work of more than 70 artists from around the country. As you might expect, some make a stronger impression than others. Yet the show’s real star is paper itself. Indeed, it’s hard to think of another material — including art-world staples such as canvas, stone and wood — that crosses so many artistic boundaries so effortlessly.

In fact, one of the surprises of “Pulp Function” is how easily paper can be made to mimic the look and feel of other, often more costly materials. The grid of translucent gray squares in Liliana Fijman’s Transparency, for example, could easily pass for a piece of contemporary stained glass. Instead, the translucent material turns out to be kozo, a traditional Japanese paper made from the bark of mulberry trees.

A chest of drawers by Jason Schneider, meanwhile, appears to be covered with a veneer of burled wood. Instead, the “veneer” turns out to be thin strips of corrugated cardboard. The result gives the chest a wonderful honeycomb-like texture.

Other artists perform similar marvels. Put Meryl Ruth’s The Emperor’s Penguin Purse in a fancy shop window and you might easily mistake it for an expensive leather handbag. (Instead, it turns out to be made from a combination of paper, clay and stoneware.) One of the show’s largest works, Aimee Lee’s Hunk & Dora, suggests a crumbling stone tower of the sort you might find in a Charlotte Bronte novel. (It turns out to be made from a combination of paper and Tyvek, a paper-like material used in home insulation.)

Even jewelry-makers get into the act.

The “gems” on a trio of rings by Sarah Kate Burgess, for example, turn out to be tiny columns of brightly colored paper. An even more impressive work is Carol-lynn Swol’s Hoodoo Channel Brooch, a silver-and-Tyvek creation that looks like a teensy piece of modern sculpture — a baby Brancusi.

Paper’s chameleon-like abilities also extend to fabrics and clothing. And why not? After all, paper is made from wood pulp, a close cousin of fiber-based fabrics such as cotton and linen. A good example of paper’s dressmaking potential is Donna Rhae Marder’s The Final Dress (for Jessica), a little girl’s dress that sports a plaid skirt made from old photographs and mohair-like sleeves made from handmade paper.

Many of these clothing-themed pieces also grapple with social and political issues. Again, that’s not surprising: social and political concerns have long been a part of the wider fiber art movement, which originated during the feminist struggles of the 1970s. Among other things, fiber artists embraced “soft” materials, such as paper and cloth, as a counterweight to harder, more “masculine” materials, such as stone and metal.

Older viewers, for example, may recall when irradiating women’s bodies with x-rays was a popular hair-removal option. For everyone else, there’s Erica Smith Rasmussen’s Dirty Little Secret, a work that graphically evokes the process by setting a flesh-colored dress above a pile of human hair. As an added touch, Rasmussen’s dress is covered with tumor-like bumps.

On a more humorous note, there’s Mia Hall’s Domestic Expectations installation, which features a wedding dress made of paper towels. A second outfit, this one designed for the mother of the bride and modeled on a two-piece Chanel suit, is made of disposable paper diapers.

Another highlight is Cat Chow’s Not For Sale, an elegant evening gown made from $1,000 in shredded dollar bills. Considering the cost of clothes these days, that’s probably a bargain.

Chow’s cash-meets-cachet gown also illustrates another aspect of “Pulp Functions”: the use (and reuse) of books, boxes and other familiar paper products to create works of art. In addition to Chow, the show’s roster of recyclers includes Shelly Hedges (a dress made from Mary Jane wrappers), Bird Ross (a necklace made from Cheerios boxes) and John Malinoski (a toy car made from an old Miller High Life box).

Despite the show’s focus on paper and paper products, some works are so exquisitely crafted and/or so visually striking that they easily transcend their paper-bound status. Swol’s Hoodoo Chanel Brooch, a picture of which adorns the show’s short but informative catalog, is one such work. Paper or no paper, it’s just plain gorgeous.

Another of these category-transcending works is Deborah Baldizar’s Edge, a slightly-larger-than-life molded-paper sculpture of a seated woman. It’s a beautiful piece, one that could just as easily be included in a survey of contemporary sculpture. The fact that Baldizar is one of two Rhode Islanders in the exhibit (the other is Liliana Fijman) makes it even better.

“Pulp Function” runs through Jan. 6 at the Fuller Craft Museum, 455 Oak St., Brockton, Mass. Hours: daily, 10-5 and Wed. 10-9. Admission: adults $8, students and seniors $5, children under 12 free. (508) 588-6000 or www.fullercraft.org.

bvansicl@projo.com