Courtesy keithcarterphotographs.com "Lost Dog" appeals to the dog lover in all of us, even cat owners. [Click to enlarge]

Courtesy keithcarterphotographs.com "Appaloosa" captures the beauty in a simple action like a horse grazing in a field. [Click to enlarge]

In a city overflowing with contemporary art exhibits -- shows brimming with the abstract, conceptual and experimental -- it's easy to forget about simpler art. Visiting the Warhol, Mattress Factory, Brew House or any other of Pittsburgh's contemporary art galleries can quickly train your brain to look critically beyond the surface of a work and try to decode its inevitably complex message.

Keith Carter's photographic exhibit, "Poet of the Ordinary," requires you to abandon any such deep interpretative impulses. To call this simpler art is not to degrade it, but to place it in a class among those works that are accessible and aesthetically pleasing to the majority of the population.

In the exhibit's 50 black-and-white images, Carter explores subjects like dogs, horses, children and architecture. Using selective focus techniques -- where the photographer only allows a certain part of the image to be in focus -- Carter controls the viewer's attention and creates soft, emotional and almost surreal perspectives of the everyday world.

For example, in "Lost Dog," like in many of his images of animals, Carter creates a subtle air of emotion and grace around his subject. We see the extreme close-up of a dog's head. Its nose, pointing toward the viewer, is an out-of-focus blur, as is everything behind the animal's pinned-down ears. Carter makes his viewer concentrate on the wide, dark, glassy eyes of the creature, which almost appear to weep.

Similarly in "Appaloosa," Carter captures the elegance and grace of a spotted horse quietly grazing in the evening light, almost camouflaged against the silvery ground. The slight downward angle, and, again, use of selective focus, makes you feel as though you're standing alone with this powerful animal, in awe of its serenity and inherent beauty.

In these images, Carter asks us to see the splendor, tenderness and spirit in a place where we may sometimes forget they exist. We see weepy-eyed dogs on a regular basis. We've seen grazing horses. We know these animals can be handsome, that they can be awe-inspiring. Carter's images remind us that these qualities are always present, even though we may not always see them.

The same things can be said of the rest of the exhibit -- whether it's a Venice canal, a wishing well, or a child sitting alone on a bench. These are not extraordinary subjects, nor are they extraordinary or complex compositions. In the simplicity of black-and-white close-ups and the intimacy of selective focus, Carter hints at the beauty in the ordinary; he brings out the magical in the mundane.

However, in his attempt to be a poet of these everyday subjects, Carter can sometimes fall short of poetic and land squarely in the ordinary. For example, his image of a vase of flowers has nice tonal qualities, and an interesting use of focus, but it's little more than a nameless print you'd buy at Bed Bath & Beyond to hang in a corner of your dining room.

Perhaps this is the price of reaching a wider audience, of appealing to the masses through universally readable images. You don't have to be an art critic to appreciate and enjoy Carter's work. However, you also don't have to get excited, inspired, or moved beyond more than a knowing nod and spark of approval for his perceptiveness.

He pulls at your sense of appreciation for the everyday world, but he doesn't pull too hard. Carter's work is what you'd buy if you like to shop in the art section for calendars every year: A different photograph every month, maybe even a few to rip out and keep after December 31, but not the piece you'd hang above your bed.

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