Born in Rome in 1942, Luciano Ventrone is a celebrated Italian photo-realist with a distinguished exhibition history centered in Rome, Milan, and Bologna. This is his first solo show in New York.

Mr. Ventrone came of age in tandem with Richard Estes, Robert Cottingham, Chuck Close, and other first-generation photo-realists, but he takes a very different turn from his American counterparts, using the techniques of the genre to bypass mundane contemporary items and quotidian scenes. He anchors his imagery in the tradition of Italian still life painting that dates back to Caravaggio.

More than photo-realism was in the Italian air in the early 1960s. Mr. Ventrone held his first exhibition in Rome in 1963, the year Roberto Longhi published his groundbreaking studies of Caravaggio’s influences and effect. His second show followed in 1964, a year that galvanized artists and scholars alike with the great exhibition of Italian still lifes held in Naples and traveling afterward to Rotterdam, Milan, and Zurich. On show at Bernarducci. Meisel is Mr. Ventrone’s persuasive reconciliation of these two disparate strains of motivation, one from the late Renaissance and the other from his own formative period.

“Satelliti” (2007-08), “Allegria Irrequieta” (2008), and “Vincere il Tempo” (2007-08) are unabashed paraphrases of Caravaggio’s “Basket of Fruit” (c. 1596), in the Pinacoteca Ambrosiana, Milan. Here are the woven baskets, fruits piled on top of each other under a crown of crisply outlined, blighted grape leaves and a trail of vine. “Il Dona della Natura” (2008) repeats the motif minus the wicker basket. Fruits spread across a flat, white surface in a decorative display of market abundance that imitates traditional tabletop scenes.

But tradition comes with an unmistakably modern, even theatrical, twist. It is viewed under the powerful artificial lighting that belongs exclusively to the 20th century. Raking overhead lights remove the motifs from Caravaggio’s visual world and place them squarely on the front lines of contemporary food styling.

Mr. Ventrone photographs his own setups and arranges them with the precision of a stylist for Gourmet. Fruits split open to announce their ripeness. Mr. Ventrone repeats the cleft pomegranates and breaking melons that make the paintings of Giovanna Garzoni (1600-70) so engaging. (Garzoni was one of the loveliest rediscoveries in the 1964 Naples exhibition.)

“Scarlet Lake” (2008) and “La Maestra e l’orgoglio” (2007) are particularly appealing. One cluster of fruit fills a crazed Chinese bowl; another rises up from an unglazed ceramic piece decorated with mythological figures. Each spare, deliberate alignment of these fruits and stems approaches the formal restraint of ikebana. Mr. Ventrone is most satisfying when his structuring impulses guide decorative ones.

And it is form, not contrived enticement, that is the real pleasure of these compositions. None are any more hyperreal for their time than Caravaggio’s verace pinto was in his. If photo-realism seems to give us more to see than 17th-century realism provided, that is because our viewing is heightened by newer systems of lighting. Candle power suppresses minute detail; multiple 500- to 1,000-watt bulbs exaggerate it, even without a macro lens. The artist’s challenge is to hang on to form amid a welter of exposed detail. And Mr. Ventrone does.

“Il Bianco della Spose” (2008) masses the heads of white roses, in full bloom, in a pale marble bowl against a gray backdrop. It is a simple arrangement but also a study of light that diversifies tonalities within the single color, emphasizes volumes, and distinguishes textures. “Sci di Colore” (2008) does the same but with a more varied blend of colors and shapes. Studio light, entering from more than one direction, grants each aggrandized petal its own spatial dimension. By canceling out chiaroscuro, it bypasses romantic moodiness. For all the prettiness inherent in the motif, these are clinically unsentimental floral pieces.

“Crollo Nervoso” (2008) is a strangely violent image. A watermelon is shattered into pieces and a few seeds scattered about. The rind is just beginning to dry and shrivel; chunks of flesh hang loose. Rot is not far off. Full-spectrum lighting glistens on the moisture of the fruit as it would on the bloody pulp of fresh roadkill. Set against a dense black background, it is an unsettling illustration of the way metaphors for death assert themselves in unlikely places.

The slick surface and artifice of photo-realism do not favor figuration. Four female nudes are included, each one another luncheon piece. Studied poses, Ingres-like turbans, and faux modesty — that coy hint of shaved pubis — evoke the refined vulgarity of soft-core calendar girls. Woman-as-ripe-fruit is a tired trope.

It is hard not to imagine these figures sprayed with glycerin and set, like lamb chops, on a bed of scallions. Bartelo Pisanelli, a food writer who was Caravaggio’s contemporary, declared scallions had no purpose than “to excite the libido.” Just so. Mr. Ventrone’s still lifes look more convincing without them.

Until May 31 (37 W. 57th St., between Fifth and Sixth avenues, 212-593-3757).