Walter Niedermayr’s wall assemblages of panoramic photographs record both the spectacular profile of his native region of the Italian Alps and the results of its relentless colonization by late-twentieth-century tourism. As did painters like Turner and Friedrich, Niedermayr exults in the sheer drama of the place, where nature takes on a frosty and inhospitable grandeur. Always from a distance, his camera records much of the standard repertoire of chilly Romanticism—the juxtapositions of ice and stone, the deep fissures, the rocky crags scurried over by infinitesimal human figures inevitably