There’s an entertaining inversion in the current exhibitions at Sylvester & Company in Amagansett and Gallery Merz in Sag Harbor: One is a furniture store that also displays artwork while the other is an art gallery that is also currently displaying furniture.
Actually, it’s probably something of a misnomer to refer to Sylvester and Company as merely a “furniture store.” Packed with elegant designer accents and accessories for the home, Sylvester and Co., even absent the artwork on display, is more redolent of a design exhibition space devoted to the display of rather esoterically engaging objects. Where else would one find items such as an acacia z-stool or a faux shagreen bench (real shagreen was apparently made originally from the hide of a wild ass, but now typically fashioned from shark or ray skin, which is clearly something I never would have learned at Target).
The current exhibition at Sylvester is of recent paintings by James Kennedy, and the works fit in surprisingly well with the surrounding myriad design motifs, in no small part due to the interestingly diverse stylistic elements that the artist applied to the pieces throughout the exhibition. Balancing the powerful imposition of textures and color with a delicate yet insistent presence of illumination, the paintings bear elements of landscape but, in their atmospheric intensity, become more rooted in abstraction than representation.
This effect is most immediately apparent in works such as “Citadel” (oil on birch), in which Mr. Kennedy uses assertively subtle color tonalities to establish a psychological sense of distance within the work. This distancing is further emphasized by the physical construct of the composition itself: the hazily shimmering image on the horizon is placed in the lower register of the canvas while the sky is filled with forebodingly ominous clouds.
In “Linear Blue” (oil on birch), on the other hand, Mr. Kennedy almost completely erases any overt references to a representational landscape beyond the hazy imposition of a horizon line bisecting the canvas. This allows for a gentle transition of light and color, injecting a spatial reference that is more implied than dictated and allowing the viewer to experience the image’s melding of both intellectual and intuitive references.
In other works, such as “Conscentic” (oil and wax) and “Mandala” (oil and sand), the artist eschews any immediate reference to landscapes and instead emphasizes rather rough-hewn geometric images. These impart an air of hushed spirituality and take on elements of antiquity and timelessness, underscoring delicate organic rhythms that seem to pulse with an understated intensity.
The exhibition of recent works by James Kennedy continues at Sylvester & Company in Amagansett through May 20.
Meanwhile, the current exhibition at Gallery Merz in Sag Harbor features Asian works of art along with paintings and prints by Western artists influenced by Oriental art along with a number of Asiatic furniture pieces that are, in some cases, used to display some of the other works on exhibit.
While admittedly not particularly schooled in aspects of Oriental home furnishings, I was particularly impressed by the Chinese Altar (red lacquer on elm, late 19th century Q’ing Dynasty) with its elegant minimalist lines and its profound measure of simplicity in design.
Also of particular interest is a wood block print by the Japanese master Hiroshige from his famous series titled “Fifty-Three Stations on the Tokaido Road” (circa 1833). But perhaps even more entertaining is a series of prints by Kobayashi Kiyochika, a wood block artist of the late Meiji period known for incorporating western styles and subjects.
Originally a student of both Kawanabe Kyosai and Shibata Zeshin and heavily influenced by the landscapes of both Hokusai and Kuniyoshi, Kiyochika is generally reviled by Japanese nationalists who saw his work reflecting the modernization of early 20th century Japan, and thus too occidental and lacking the essence of traditional Japanese aesthetic values.
Also of note are Michael Knigin’s “Homage,” Jean Schumann’s “Lettre du Rapture,” and Kevin Berlin’s “Goldfish,”