Amit Berlowitz’s cinematic studies inform all aspects of her solo exhibition “in between everything that is,” so that her photographs appear like so many successive frames from an expansive film archive. They often resemble preparatory shots or outtakes, the sketchy conceptualization of what’s to come or the discarded remains excised from the final cut. As if to underscore their transient utility and anticipated futility, they’re displayed on the gallery walls like storyboards, with handwritten titles in pencil scrawled beneath them. It’s this precarious temporality, appearing fleetingly as a