The subtitle of Karyn Fearnside's exhibition is The Shape of Me, Piercing the Veil and Genetic Inheritance. This provides the conceptual premise behind the 28 works in the exhibition and their division into three groups. Fearnside offers a text as introduction to the works. This is noteworthy in its revelation of the familial themes that inform the artist's very personal, even idiosyncratic, images. Without the text the exhibition as a whole operates on a number of levels, each to a varying degree of success.

For me the most successful are the eight images (Cat's. 9-16) whose titles "are taken from the stations of the Kabbalistic Tree of Life". These constructed archival prints have the aesthetic character of vintage 19th-century photographs, a character reinforced by their essentially black-and-white palette. Thematically the veiled faces express an objective reality that is easier to relate to than the more personal images that operate through the rest of the exhibition. As a group their visual impact is effective while the concomitant expressive density provides conceptual depth not present in (most of) the other works.

The cast pieces (faces of the artist's daughter and partner) formed into two sets of wings (one black, one white) offer clear dichotomies between the positive and negative possibilities innate in genetic inheritance. This is underscored by the images of the artist's daughter in her grandmother's wedding dress that form the majority of the exhibition. There is a sort of uneven dance of life through the exhibition's imagery that hints at a performative element, at the images being documentation of a performance that all of us go through as we pass through life. The Shaping, though populated with (some) subtle and layered works, falls into the trap of being too personal for me. The characters and characterisations hold meanings that matter to the artist and the visualised protagonists. An objective stance, quietly removed from the familial, might have given this family album a more welcoming introduction for the viewer.

Joan Costanza's Branching Out is broadly concerned with the patterns of and in nature and the exploration of techniques to express the artist's confrontations with these. The results are varied but overall there is a thematic connection throughout the 11 works in the exhibition.

The best works speak of a life force beneath the surface. This is articulated in a number of ways. In Yukon Delta the river becomes a river of life as it pushes from the base of the picture plane upwards through the centre of the canvas to the top of the image. It spreads its finger-like tributaries across the canvas like the branches of a tree reaching into the sky. The interpretative ambiguity between an aerial view of a river delta and an upward-looking view of a tree is especially eloquent and imbues aesthetic and conceptual tension into this work. Costanza's palette is vibrant and vital and her use of black is especially astute.

Lake Eyre Drain offers another aerial view. Here the waters of Lake Eyre spread in a mesenteric web over the surface, vividly capturing the life force within them. The use of red clearly alludes to the red of blood and the marked contrasts between it and the ochres of the surrounding earth are powerfully achieved. However, the odd curatorial decision to place this work on a bulky stand beneath a somewhat obtrusive air-conditioning unit does not serve it well.

Honesty (linaria annua) is large (158 centimetres high and 80 centimetres wide). Its persona as botanical specimen is reinforced by its being placed on a deep, black ground that provides dramatic visual contrasts and highlights the delicacy of the individual floral elements.

Costanza is a skilled draughtsperson. This is clearly exemplified in Ficus I, a fine graphite drawing that like the above works evokes the life beneath the surface of the writhing forms of the branches of the fig. Her use of chiaroscuro is finely attuned and is also elegantly present in other works, notably South Coast Meander I.

Some of the other works in the exhibition see the artist obsessively (over-) exploiting a range of technical approaches within singular pieces. Estuary Ultrasound and Ficus Fantasy exemplify this. The artist's notes in the accompanying booklet highlight her technical explorations and perhaps inadvertently point to her giving primacy to the technical over the conceptual (and ultimately) the aesthetic.

A group of small(er) works (Branchings I-IV) see Costanza exploiting the more abstract elements found in the natural world. These have other worldly, dreamlike qualities that capitalise on the inner rhythms and layering of nature.

The celebration of the human and the natural in these exhibitions, despite some misgivings on my part, is worth a visit.