Riding the elevator up to Schoelkopf’s third-floor gallery to see the new show Richard Estes: My Camera Is My Sketchbook earlier this week, I was thinking about the complexities of photorealism—the school of art that emerged in the late ’60s and gained prominence during the following decade with its hand-painted images that appeared to be indistinguishable from photographs. Of course, there are many contemporary artists who now work from photographs or make art that mimics photography. Some are at the pinnacle of critical esteem and market clout (think of Gerhard Richter here). But those artists are not among the dozen or so names associated with the movement—for example, Chuck Close, Audrey Flack, Robert Cottingham, Malcolm Morley, Ralph Goings, Charles Bell, Robert Bechtle, and, above all, Richard Estes.