At a CD release party on Oct. 30, I found a songwriter I liked from the moment he took the stage, with his somber presence and sincere Americana. The next night, at a nearby bar, I was drawn to a new photography exhibit, with its weighty subjects and stark images. And minutes later, I was dumbstruck by the best costume I saw that evening: Javier Bardem's haunting No Country for Old Men character, a morose and forthright role.

And so, a day after we met, I was quite sure I liked Justin Evans, a multitalented man who, like his music, artwork and sense of humor, bears both restrained, palatable gravity and compelling earnestness. He is a gentle guy, unlike Bardem's killer, but he is a man you would think the Coen brothers might like.

Evans moved to Athens in 1994 to study physical geography at UGA, stayed in town for a girl, commuted to Gwinnett Tech for a degree in commercial photography, worked as a photographer's assistant, and began shooting weddings several years ago. All along, he was playing and recording music, though The Owls & the Hounds is his ?rst of?cial release, and "it probably wouldn't have been [released] without Adam," he says, referring to Adam Klein's new Cowboy Angel label, which will be instrumental in the album's marketing, as well.

Likewise, Evans' new exhibition at Flicker Bar will be his first broad attempt to sell photography. He shoots for the Adsmith, an Athens advertising and design firm, as well as several local publications, and he hopes to do more commercial work. Evans' father was a freelance illustrator, and Evans reflects a freelancer attitude to music and photography: they are things he does, not identities he embodies. Nor is photography innate or inspired, he tells me; "You visualize beforehand. You don't just show up with a camera." If there is a cohesive art scene in town, he says, "I don't pay much attention to it." (Interestingly, he lives in Jim Herbert's building, which houses Herbert's grand studio, and which photographer Ian McFarlane manages and occupies.)

Last October, Evans traveled through China for a month and shot roughly 2000 photographs. Twenty-five are on display now, and they constitute his second show. The first, a series of downtown night portraits, hung for more than a year but, because of their subjects, were not for sale. Recently, he has spent time in spent Sequoia National Park and in San Francisco. Next, he hopes to go to Thailand, perhaps in the winter, when things are quiet here, with "few weddings, a barren landscape."

The photographs at Flicker, which suggest the immense variance of the Chinese landscape, feature urban scenes of thick pollution, the Forbidden City, a Buddhist temple; rural images of rustic villages and farms; and portraits. One old man plays with a common hacky sack-like ball; another fishes with trained birds that deliver catch to baskets. Portraits were trickier, Evans says, because he learned how to ask, "May I take your photograph?" but not to interpret the assorted answers he received.

Catch Evans' new album, on sale around town, and his photographs, up through the beginning of December; what a shame if you missed out on the costume.

Elaine Ely