Photographer Peter Vanderwarker relies more on blinding colors than provocative themes in his works of art. From his portraits of prominent Bostonians to his photographs of the city’s architecture and scenic locations, Vanderwarker’s attempt to emphasize the cultural diversity and vivacity of Boston lacks innovation and depth; at the very most, his artistic visions are cliché. “Vanderwarker’s Pantheon: Minds and Matter in Boston,” Vanderwarker’s current exhibition, is on show at the Boston Athenaeum through May 2.

Peter Vanderwarker has developed an intimate familiarity with Boston and its community. Trained in both photography and architectural design, he was a Loeb Fellow at the Harvard Graduate School of Design. “Vanderwarker’s Pantheon” is a continuation of his exploration of Boston as a historically innovative urban center. Vanderwarker strives to relate his vision of Boston’s unique aspects by capturing prominent buildings, locations, and individuals on film. The portraits and architectural photos endeavor to depict Boston in its ongoing development as a commonwealth center of life, culture, and community. However, while Vanderwarker’s intentions are admirable, the way in which he uses photography to document Boston’s growth gives only an unoriginal glance at the city.

The series of photographs of the John Hancock Tower, taken from the MIT Boathouse, are merely flat, frontal views of the building. The pictures present the same, grid-like, glass-windowed Tower; the only noticeable difference is that they are taken with different lighting. The sole creative element of these large, vertically oriented photographs is how they are reminiscent of Monet’s paintings of cathedrals at various times of the day. Otherwise, the intent behind the series is ambiguous, as it seems only to depict a superficially beautiful image of a skyscraper. Such a representation of the Hancock Tower lacks an intriguing perspective as well as a sense of artistic mastery.

Furthermore, Vanderwarker makes even the most familiar, comfortable images of Boston trite. His photographs include the Public Garden in the winter, the Charles River, the grand marble staircase of the Boston Public Library, and Harvard’s very own Sever Hall. Taken in sharp focus, the photographs are intensely colorful. However, this over-saturation of color cheapens the images, making them look like blown-up postcards. The angles and views of the locations are more ‘familiar’ than the sites themselves because they are essentially formulaic. As a result, it is impossible to develop a deeper personal reflection on the seemingly mass-manufactured photographs.

The portraits that comprise the majority of the exhibition depict individuals who have contributed specifically to the Boston community, from painters to University professors to members of the medical community. These people are meant to represent a select cross-section of society. Many of the portraits are displayed one next to the other, some even tangent at their sides. With African American educator next to Asian American pharmacist next to Caucasian judge, the juxtaposition of the portraits strives too obviously to emphasize the diversity and unity of the Boston population. Vanderwarker’s portrayal of these individuals is forced rather than sincere, and the contrivance renders the photographs too idealistic.

Adding to the contrived nature of the exhibition are statements by the individuals depicted in the photographs. While Vanderwarker attempts to inject a personal voice to the portraits, most of the writing sounds like an excerpt from a cover letter. Moreover, the labels seem like product placements; each placard also includes a thumbnail of the logo of the company or institution to which the individual belongs. Because the relationship between the subject and the setting of the photo is exceedingly apparent—for example, a doctor placed against a background of pill containers—there is hardly any room for imagination or analysis on the part of the viewer. While it may have been Vanderwarker’s intent to create a scrapbook of his “heroes,” the lack of creativity and innovation in his execution makes these tributes seem more like enlarged Facebook profile pictures.

“Vanderwarker’s Pantheon” does succeed in capturing picturesque snippets of locations in the city that are integral to Boston’s urban identity, but it fails to convey any inspiring or provocative messages. Overcome by clichéd perspectives and overly deliberated connections, the exhibition is muddled by the cheap, commercial nature of the photographs. While there was no gift shop in the Athenaeum, the museum very well could have shrunk Vanderwarker’s images to sell them as postcards to tourists.