The urban landscape is littered – literally – with the discarded stuff of (mostly human) life. Food refuse, trash, industrial decay… bits and pieces, and odds and ends that have lost their meaning by way of their inglorious disposal. While it may be the ultimate cliché to say that one person’s trash is another’s treasure, four artists at Tiger Strikes Asteroid – Jaime Alvarez, Ben Brandt, Janaye Brown and Jay Muhlin – have taken it upon themselves to somehow turn objects of ill-repute into items worthy of our attention in the show “Way Down Low” curated by Ezra Masch.

Jay Muhlin from the series “Our Bones And Their True Names.”

Last of the ways one would expect to find detritus on display is probably in a light box, but that didn’t stop Jay Muhlin and Jaime Alvarez from turning lightly crinkled metal foil and smashed convenience store cups into glowing wall fixtures. Since we might often encounter such backlit cases as restaurant menus or in other, more appetizing locations, discovering one with a car window full of bird droppings is a real show stopper.

Jay Muhlin from the series “Our Bones And Their True Names.”

Glorifying such a messy scene at first seems like a betrayal of art’s occasional claims to beauty and other ideals, but at further inspection, the image itself – content aside – is rather fascinating. The round bend of the window’s black molding against the white body of the vehicle, the orangey heating filaments in the window itself, and the texture and patterning of the excrement itself are all compositionally fine, although not quite fit for the corner Chinese takeout down the street. As if this very consumption were intentionally upended elsewhere, we find a halved “BIG GULP” cup from 7-Eleven lying in the mottled, black setting of a city street. The logo is upside down and the cup is at less than half the size it should be, complete with a hole at the very bottom. While Muhlin doesn’t directly condemn our society of waste, the message here seems to indicate a self-consciousness at the very least.

Jaime Alvarez, “Untitled (Cliff 2)” from the series “Instruments of Cope.”

With a turn for the three dimensional, we find a sort of collapsing structure by Ben Brandt that looks like it could easily be any indistinguishable piece of a partly demolished warehouse. The external concrete texture betrays its actual materials. Is this wilting mass composed of wood, metal or plastic underneath? If it were not for its placement in an art viewing space, would this object warrant a second glance?

Ben Brandt, “Magic Carpet / Old Mechanical Bull.”

Aside from the above questions, it is clear that the form is intentional and almost resembles a miniature sagging segment of Stonehenge if not for the appearance of its almost liquefied bottom and wooden shipping crate pedestal. The base of unfinished wood hints that it is under construction, being disassembled, or that its components are themselves salvaged parts. Since building supplies and art shipping containers bear such a resemblance to one another, the bare plywood and two-by-fours, not to mention the hunk of gray matter itself, do well to blur the lines between raw materials, refuse and art objects.

Janaye Brown, still from “Swan Song.”

In the small room near the entrance to the galley, we find a looping video by Janaye Brown. In it, there is merely the visage of a metal pole around which some type of metallic textile is tied as it flaps in the wind. The foil-like flag is at half-mast, and greatly resembles Alvarez’s piece, except that it is bathed in a deep red lighting. Silent and all but hidden away, this nocturne is at once a tribute to and a eulogy for these abandoned and neglected parts of the world.

All of these artworks and artifacts will be on view at Tiger Strikes Asteroid through September 28.

Tiger Strikes Asteroid is located at 319 North 11th St., on the second floor, Philadelphia; [email protected]; tigerstrikesasteroid.com.