Take a drive around the city. Expensive downtown high-rises lining one block contrast with poor and working class neighborhoods a few miles down the road. Sandwiched in between are the complex "emerging" neighborhoods whose ever-changing streets are constantly clogged with construction equipment. This is the urban landscape, and it's what photographer Ken D. Ashton seeks out to document as its inhabitants constantly change and rebuild and, sometimes, neglect it. His new show at Flashpoint, De Aqui al Paraiso, is a collection of photographs from ten years of travel to these neighborhoods around the world.

Ashton isn't quite after the urban 'lifestyle,' instead he captures the interaction that people — the tourists, the young city-goers, the fifth generation residents — have with their environment. This interaction, by its very nature in such a closely confined space, is a constantly grinding force that leaves its imprint on the sidewalks, the graffiti-stained walls, even the city skyline. Cologne (pole) focuses tightly on a street sign pole covered ten times over with stickers advertising local concerts and sports games. Occupying most of the print is the rest of the largely empty street, but that it's completely out of focus emphasizes how the pole, even as such a tiny part of the environment, feels so much of the human hand everyday.

Documentary-style photography can easily be labeled photojournalism, which has its own merits, but where Ashton succeeds in turning his prints into artwork is in his eye for movement. Using strong focal points, long-exposures, and grainy film, he captures not only movement in the scene, but the overall changing environment — the big picture, if you will. In At the bar, Ashton photographs a pub scene, but keeps the people out of focus. It's these people who move, who change, while the bar and its familiar glassware, which appear in crisp focus, will remain the same as the world moves around it. New Years Eve, Havana features a city square crammed with partiers. The celebration seems to be ongoing in front of our eyes as the long-exposure draws their dancing out across the paper, and yet, the harsh, grainy film makes the image appear to disintegrate, reminding us that tomorrow the city square will be abandoned and littered in confetti and empty beer cups, left with only the memory of celebration.

The sequence in which the photographs are hung provides another interesting look at these landscapes. Though not explicitly narrative, it is easy enough to imply one as you step in the foyer and see Portugal from the train; the scenery rushing by will make you feel as if you’ve just arrived in a new town and unpacked your bags. The first third of the collection mostly features personal, indoor scenes – a sleeping figure grasping blankets against the sun, a sparse basement that looks as if it’s being converted into a darkroom, and a quiet hotel room with a basketball game seemingly on mute (pictured). The second third pulls the camera lens back, out of the personal and into the public, following holiday bashes, weddings, and nights at the bar where surreptitious glances and phone numbers on matchbooks are exchanged.

Lastly, Ashton takes one more step back and focuses on the cityscape, where neglected fences, shoes hung over telephone wires, and skyscrapers dominate the field of view. In this way he captures human interactions in the urban environment not just from London to D.C., but from bedroom to skyline.

Flashpoint is located at 916 G Street, NW and open Tuesday through Saturday, 12 p.m. to 6 p.m. De Aqui al Paraiso will run until July 1.