Wandering alone at night with a camera in depopulated places is a popular pastime for photographers with existential proclivities. Chris Eichenseer lets the world cry him a river in color photographic prints featuring garish illumination and surprisingly subtle colors that give angst a good name. If you have to suffer, why not do it standing at a distance from the rows of rigs in a truck-stop parking lot after a heavy rain, in a world bathed in every eerie shade of yellowish brown? You are guaranteed to get the hit that Albert Camus’ Stranger sought from the blazing sun; he should have tried artificial glare. Only rarely does Eichenseer venture into post-industrial Chicago; his haunts are the ‘hoods where he finds old frame houses surrounded by weeds in the shadows of the Skyway. Eichenseer is as Chicago as Nelson Algren; give him his Simone de Beauvoir. (Michael Weinstein)
Through May 20 at Threadless, 3011 N. Broadway.