If you missed the photographer’s first retrospective, at Harvard’s Fogg Museum last year, here’s a remix: a beautifully installed selection of works, spanning two decades. The closely observed visual essays pledge allegiance to in-between moments— portraits of the obsolescent (record albums) and the overlooked (pennies). Fifty-four small blackand- white pictures, taken between 1996 and 2000, document empty whiskey bottles on daytime kitchen counters; installed in a grid, the piece is at once a matter-of-fact index and an ode to morning-after melancholy. Thirty-two unique color C-prints of everyday things—cluttered tabletops, clock faces, keys dangling in doors— made in Paris, then folded and mailed to friends in New York, wrap around three walls. Marred by postmarks and handwriting, with scraps of tape still attached, they’re battered monuments to memory, correspondence, and lost time. Through Dec. 24. (Murray Guy, 453 W. 17th St. 212-463-7372.)

THE NEW YORKER
December 21, 2009