Thermodynamics tells us there is a finite amount of energy in the universe, but William Eggleston's work from the past fifty years proves that there is an unlimited amount of significance. Describing him as a father of color photography is a red (or maybe magenta?) herring. Eggleston deserves the Whitney's royal treatment—a 150-work career retrospective—because of the deep veins of content he has managed to tap, most running right under his feet. His flashed 35-mm images of a bivouac of shoes under a bed, or of a stuffed, icy freezer, are like new