The New York that Dan Weiner photographed is gone. The Upper East Side, where he lived in the mid-20th century, went from gritty to glam. Hot spots like El Morocco vanished. Yet it would be a mistake to say his images are about nostalgia. If anything, they have a certain quiet urgency, drawn out through faces, lines and tones, that still offer lessons on how to see the world around us.

“In all his pictures, people did not look uncomfortable,” said John Broderick, his son-in-law, who is in charge of the archive. “You get drawn in. You can tell, besides the empathy, you can tell he had a tremendous respect for the people he photographed, no matter what they did or who they were. He would take a picture of someone, and you, by looking at that, you become that person. You feel that person.”

By the time he died in a plane crash in 1959, at the age of 39, he had amassed a huge archive of work, mentored Garry Winogrand and earned praise from the likes of Walker Evans. An exhibition at the Steven Kasher Gallery of his New York images, as well as those by his wife, Sandra, offers a chance to appreciate his vision.