The sculptural qualities of a luxury car’s interior cannot possibly supersede the manner in which it’s been marketed. The two are synonymous; every ergonomic moment, every accent, is a selling point. John Massey’s new collection of photographs seems, at first, to want to show juxtaposition: a sea-and-water landscape through the window of an affluent driver’s seat. Yet the organic elements in the composition instantly turn inorganic. Amber hues of sunset contrast beautifully with charcoal upholstery. The familiar language of advertising takes over. The inspiring locale seems to hawk the status symbol.

Getting past this takes effort (this, presumably, is what Massey intends), but it is worth trying. The photos are composites, created through a mix of digital and analog techniques. This is more of a conceptual melding than a contradiction. Stand back a bit, blur your vision, and the car does become abstractly sinuous — like, um, a line of trees. And one assumes, then, that Massey is also trying to say something about the landscape as a Canadian artist (the series is called “This Land”): the way the frame of the window of the driver’s seat curls across the upper frame of the shots kind of suggests Tom Thompson’s The West Wind. Yet the best piece here is a white-and-wood grain interior against an extra-pink horizon. The white could suggest some sort of paradoxical wintriness, but it’s a strain. This is a California image, and one is a ready slave to its tacky, decadent corporate mythology.