Katy Grannan has taken a leap forward in her work. Her second New York solo show is better than her impressive 2000 debut because it is richer, riskier, and more elusive. There's less explicit nudity, and the complicated ways she combines voyeurism, banality, and pattern have gotten even more complex and creepy. This two-gallery exhibition is so disquieting that it's possible to argue—without stretching the bounds of credulity—that Grannan is not only one of the best portrait photographers working today, she may be a legitimate heir... More >>>