With only five works filling two rooms that could have readily absorbed many more, “Anne Truitt ’62–’63” proved exemplary in its economy. The three sculptures—the plinths White: One, 1962, and White: Four, 1962, and the oblong form North, 1963—and two related paintings on paper affirmed the parity between the intentional sparseness of the exhibition and that of the objects themselves. For all their apparent simplicity, the works are purposive, deeply considered things. As with the gallery’s 2013 presentation of Truitt’s works from the 1970s, collected under the rubric “threshold,” “’

“Light, Paper, Process: Reinventing Photography” marks another signpost in the ongoing debate about the nature of photography in the wake of the digital turn. The show, which follows neatly on the heels of “What Is a Photograph?,” Carol Squires’s 2014 exhibition at New York’s International Center of Photography (which focused on experimental photographic practices going back to the 1970s), was organized by Getty curator Virginia Heckert, who has mobilized her institution’s mighty resources to effectively broaden and deepen our understanding of the historical and technical underpinnings of

Entering this quixotic exhibition was like waking up as a kid in your childhood bedroom. Sunshine wafted through an open window of the vacant house in which the artist had made several subtle interventions. Sounds of cartoonish squelches, warbling songbirds, and dully thudding footsteps floated in through adjoining doorways. In one room, a disembodied voice spoke quietly of destroying a picture on the wall. But there were no pictures hung on any of the walls, only sets of speakers, and a few projectors on the wooden floors.

Hannah Weinberger’s installation Awake, while you’re dreaming, 2015, was