The first postcard advertising Carrie Mateosian's photography show crossed my desk in March and sparked instant intrigue. A young woman in sequins and a scalding pink tutu - with false eyelashes to match - poses in the foreground of the familiar-made-peculiar scene of James Brown's Place on Culver Road. Young men and women line the counter, swanning or lost in thought. I filed the image away under "attend," but as the show's opening date drew closer, the savvy artist sent two more cards, each with a new image of these strange characters interacting with one another. A satyr-esque guy with gigantic horns locked in a stare-off with a pretty young thing. Simultaneous grittiness and theatrical beauty on display. I had to know about this artist.

I met Mateosian at the reception for the show, in the spacious Gallery @ Station 55, neighbor to the Public Market. The subjects from her images cavorted about in costume, including the dude with the horns. Her artist statement provides insight on the work: "'Allegory' is the story of me [...] my adventures, the battles within and my struggles with the world. The characters are my fears and my dreams. They both succeed and fail. They are me - broken and triumphant, and sometimes both at the same time." Through "Allegory," Mateosian has created her own Greek pantheon where each delightful or cumbersome aspect of human nature is personified and plays its role.

Mateosian spent the bulk of her youth in Watertown, New York, a place where "you make your own fun," she says. Since childhood, she has enjoyed pairing the camera with her imagination, though she never seriously considered it as a career choice until she was in her 20s. Mateosian's commercial work includes such clients as Palmer Food Services and Europa Custom Clothiers, but she does a lot of indie projects, which serve her strong desire to connect with individuals who are struggling through difficult spaces.

The images in "Allegory" read like the love children of a fashion spread and an interior-revealing mirror. Models and dancers dressed and styled by Mateosian execute her vision, while bringing their own complexities to the scenes. But who are these people, and why have they gathered there? The everyday, bigger-city look of my favorite diner paired with these unlikely characters lends itself to a sense of magical realism: I saw the members of a mythic, rag-tag traveling circus' after-show takeover of a tiny eatery, each member running from or searching for something ambiguously present in the scene. But part of the reason the artist didn't title individual works is that she wants the audience to inject their own interpretation and stories into the expressions and gestures.

The strikingly colored and highly defined images capture every detail, including the dirt and the flaws. Mateosian describes her style as "gritty" and says her technique matches her ideas about "pairing beauty with the sharp edge of life." The people line the counter along the narrow length of the diner-turned-runway, watching or ignoring the antics of whoever happens to have the stage. A man in mint green pants leaps in the air while others look on fascinated or unimpressed. They pose together in more intimate vignettes, creating tensions of opposites and trinities of traits housed within the artist, and all of us.

Mateosian refers to one frequently photographed group of three girls as "The Muses" - a powerful trio represented in ancient cultures, embodying art and inspiring man. The trio is not tame; it is a circle of impish, worldly, self-possessed, and dreamy gals. The artist describes the empowering aspect of persona-play in her work, and the "tremendous commonalities" in human experience, while singling out the low battle-stance of the "worldly" muse in one image. "We all have those ‘fuck you' moments," she says.

Also manifested are the darker parts of us, which we don't tend to dwell on. "You don't want to lose your own focus," Mateosian says, but we have to acknowledge and work with the fallible, sometimes destructive parts of us. She illustrates by pointing to the archetypal "guy with the horns, who I think pretty obviously represents the scary things, the dark things, that I think are in all of us, and outside all of us," she says. "I think the scarier ones at times are the ones that are inside you, because you can't really get away from them."

Satyr-dude's object of antagonism is vulnerable but valiant: tears mar the intricate red patterns painted around her eyes. Rag-doll hair and clothing complete the picture of a woman in a whirlwind. "She looks like she's struggling, lost, hanging on, but a survivor. There's a toughness and a wisdom to her," says Mateosian.

Some of the most absorbing images in the show are these tension-filled serial sets, in which the expert balance between self-aware models and the photographer's ideas is evident. In one image, the satyr tries to intimidate, in another he howls and taunts; the maiden's expressions leap through a mixture of longing, compassion, ferocity, and a touch of annoyance. In the last, she stares right past his antics; he's just a manifestation of her gnawing thoughts, but she's in control.

Mateosian is both the manager and artist-in-residence of the Station 55 gallery space. She intends to show her own new work every two to three months, but she also plans to share the stage. Her upcoming show "Shoot Me 4 Living" features individuals involved with the program of the same name, which Mateosian developed through her involvement with the organization Teens Living with Cancer. The work is a collaborative effort between these teens, Mateosian, and members of PUSH Physical Theatre. "The goal [of the program] is to realize your strength. It is designed to empower those facing life's struggles, celebrating the will to live one's life on one's own terms even in the face of great adversity," she says.

"Allegory"

Through July 10

The Gallery @ Station 55, 55 Railroad St.

rsvp@carriemateosian.com

Hours by appointment only