Modern life sometimes seems like a hedge against chance. What with work, family, friends and home, our lives become highly structured affairs. The spaces in between are to be navigated as quickly and efficiently as possible.

The unexpected is not always welcome, more a nuisance than an interruption from the ordinary.

Artists often turn to abstraction to best represent these unruly parts of reality, things that seem difficult to translate into literal, representational forms. Abstraction has worked its way into every art form -- painting, music, sculpture, photography, poetry, dance, theater and so on.

Photography is often considered the art of capturing on film a lens-sized slice of the world, landscapes, cityscapes and portraits being the main attractions.

Abstract photography has rarely been a main attraction. It has not been worthy of inclusion under the big tent with the master or ceremonies, the trapeze artists and lion tamers. It's more like the snake lady, or dog-boy -- interesting to look at, but not easily understood.

For photographers in particular, human actions are rich fodder and the natural world a beautiful accomplice.

Abstraction and chance have both played a large part in the work of photographer Carl Chiarenza. You may not recognize his name, but he has had an impressive five-decade long career as a photographer and educator. He is currently Artist-in-Residence and Professor Emeritus of Art History at the University of Rochester.

A new exhibition of his photography is opening at the Lora Robbins Gallery of Design from Nature at the University of Richmond. Elizabeth Schlatter Deputy Director of Exhibitions curated the show, and has written about Chiarenza and his work.

She has long admired his photographs, and is a self-proclaimed "sucker for beautiful abstract work that displays technical skill and a strong esthetic." She interviewed Chiarenza for Focus magazine and wrote the introduction to a book accompanying the exhibition.

In that essay, Schlatter tells how the future course of Chiarenza's work changed in 1979 when the Polaroid Company invited him to try out their new large format camera. As only the great Ansel Adams had permission to use the camera outside the studio, Chiarenza had to come up with some in-studio subject matter.

He found himself composing collages of stuff lying to hand. Call it a half-Eureka moment. He was intrigued by the process, but he was deeply unimpressed with the results.

So he took the idea back to his home studio. He switched to black and white film and never looked back. Today, he uses the same methods and techniques that arose from the chance encounter with the big camera.

The show is called "Peace Warriors and Solitudes." It is a reminder that current events have a way of intruding on an artist's carefully laid plans.

Chiarenza was frustrated with events in the Middle East, particularly our presence in Iraq. He started working out his frustration in the studio, working with bits and scraps, cathartically twisting and crushing things this way and that.

He began arranging them and what emerged were figures, of a sort, within a collage. The Peace Warrior series is all angles, blocks and chunks of metal scraps, with lots of folds and crinkles. There are plenty of planes and hollows for light to hide in, or to bounce off of.

If you stand back and gaze at Peace Warrior (Don Quixote), an image of the warrior appears. There he is stalking the land, tall and thin, leaning purposefully forward, his mind all storms and Dulcinea.

In Peace Warrior 568, that might be Darth Vader menacing you from behind the glass.

The Peace Warrior images have an elegant Shaolin quality to them. It's an apt metaphor as these Chinese monks practice martial arts for many years in solitude with nary a chance to kick anyone's ass.

After completing a series of these images, Chiarenza found himself needing some yin to balance the yang. What emerged was the Solitude series. These collages are comprised of long gradual curves, layers and textures, much different than the tight formations and masculine energy of the warrior series.

The net result is a balance between needing to protest destructive human actions and a deeply personal need for reflection and peace.

Peace Warriors and Solitudes opens July 15 at the Lora Robbins Gallery at the University of Richmond. For more information call (804) 287-6659.