There was nothing outwardly difficult about Talia Chetrit’s second New York solo show; eight modestly scaled, soberly framed black-and-white photographs—all but one made this year—ranged evenly around the walls of a small gallery. The prints themselves look simple, too, or at least pared-down. But in her crisp, elegant shots, Chetrit makes everything count, bringing sculptural concerns to bear on a two-dimensional form and referring to historical precedents even as she launches an inquiry into the future of the image. There’s no apparent digital manipulation here, and most compositions