At first glance, many of the vintage photographs currently gathered at the AGO look mundane. Alfred Eisenstaedt’s picture of a sign advertising a German puppet museum is innocuous until you look a little closer: it’s easy to miss the swastika. A rose under Ansel Adams’s lens would be just another rose, if not for the carefully chosen background-dark whorls of driftwood that contrast with the petals’ delicate veins, giving the flower a near glow.

Two Photographers, Two Visions is an apt title for this exhibit. Long before the digital era, when cameras were clunky and film was black-and-white, Adams and Eisenstaedt made their careers by taking pictures, helping to elevate photography into a respected and valued art form. The two found success in very different spheres: Adams grew up in the United States and devoted his career to capturing its natural beauty, while Eisenstaedt worked as a photojournalist, first in Weimar-era Germany and later in the U.S. Both are celebrated for the sense of artistry displayed in their iconic images.

In Adams’s case, it’s easy to see why. His stunning mountain views and vast landscapes have undeniable beauty. However, the accolades conferred upon Eisenstaedt’s pictures are a little more mystifying. What makes his shots of a dancer’s audition, bakers rolling dough, or workers painting puppets timeless images and works of art?

Eisenstaedt’s talent is his eye for unexpected details that make an otherwise conventional scene resonate. Sometimes this effect is used for fun: one photograph shows four well-dressed, earnest adults engrossed in a game of bridge. Look closer, and you see they’re sucking on pacifiers. The caption explains that they’re penalized if the pacifier falls out.

Other times, the effect is deeply unsettling. His series “The City of Puppets” depicts puppets in a variety of settings: on a poster, in a museum, in a factory. However, the significance of the title- a cryptic reference to the Nazification of German culture at the time-imbues the photos with a more ominous tone.

“Examination of a German Dancer in the Third Reich” (1934) captures a dancer in motion during an audition, but her image barely registers. Instead, one of the judges is the inadvertent focal point of the picture: clad in a Nazi uniform, he stares inscrutably at the camera. As the atrocities of war are so often conveyed through grisly images, Eisenstaedt’s understated interpretation-the symptoms of Nazism penetrating the arts world-is unexpectedly powerful.

On the other hand, Adams’ abstract photos show that sometimes, the subject matter isn’t even the point of the picture. A shot of a graffiti-covered wall is purposely taken out of context because he wants the viewers to focus on the jagged patterns. An aerial view of a freeway interchange in Los Angeles is notable more for the serpentine patterns created by the tangle of highways than the actual scene.

While subject and composition make the difference between a good photo and a great one, the best photographs instill their images with a quality that can’t quite be explained in words. The fact that Adams and Eisenstaedt helped bring prestige and viability to photography marks them as masters in their field. The way their images continue to haunt, move, and appeal universally marks these pieces as works of art.

The exhibit runs until February 4, 2007 at the AGO. Visit www.ago.net for more information.