Posts tagged water mill

Lucien Smith Finds Poetic Justice In ‘Southampton Suite’

When abstract painter Lucien Smith manipulated a repurposed fire extinguisher and turned it loose onto a series of 9-foot-by-7-foot unprimed canvases — and, in 2014, sold one at auction for $372,000, nearly six times its estimate — the art world collectively lost its mind.

His rise through what he called his “Rain Paintings” series would be simultaneously meteoric and disruptive. The New York Times and Vogue named him the “art world wunderkind,” while ruthless critics attempted to tear him down. For a time, it worked.

After Artsy estimated that his work generated $3.7 million that year, Smith took a step back from the New York spotlight in 2015 by retreating to his home and studio in Montauk — disenchanted by dealer and gallery politics, and eager to reconnect with himself.

Five years later, he has done just that, and with poetic justice. Ten of the very same large-scale, controversial “Rain Paintings” are now on view for the first time as a group at the Parrish Art Museum in Water Mill through January. He waited for the right moment to place the paintings, he said, knowing that when they did reappear, they might look radically different to him.

And they do.

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Roadside Attraction: Hans Van de Bovenkamp Headlines Sculptural Driving Tour

At age 82, Hans Van de Bovenkamp has a twinkle in his eye. Shades of gray tease at the sides of his full, shaggy hair, but it holds its color. His sense of adventure is sharp, his laughter contagious, his creative mind vibrant.

Even still, “Now, I’m the old guy,” the sculptor said with a laugh from his longtime home and studio in Sagaponack.

He is referring to the once abundant cohort of abstract expressionists who established the East End as an art center in the mid-20th century. Despite their 20- to 30-year age gap, they were his friends — Willem de Kooning, Adolph Gottlieb and Conrad Marca-Rellito, to name a few — and an artistic home far from his native Holland.

Through his own property, he keeps their legacy alive — its 7½ acres dotted with 50 of his large pieces in what has become known as the Sagaponack Sculpture Farm, the last of nine stops along “A Hamptons Sculpture Tour,” presented by Louis K. Meisel Gallery through Labor Day 2021.

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Climate Change: Sea’s Rising, The Ocean’s Coming In

Almost 400 years ago, settlers discovered an idyllic peninsula along the coast of the Eastern Seaboard, its countryside cared for by five Native American tribes. They acquired land, built modest homes and continued on in this tradition, sowing the land with crops, culture and, eventually, wealth.

Word had spread about the tranquil white-sand beaches, vast farmland, dreamy wetlands and extraordinary light, attracting the upper echelon of society who created what “The Hamptons” is today — both a geographical area and a state of mind.

For tourists, the towns, villages and hamlets here are a sanctuary, a playground, and an escape from the hustle and bustle of their lives. But for many year-round residents and longtime visitors, that façade is starting to crack.

In recent years, their questions about and demands for the future of the East End have reached a fever pitch — concerns over sea level rise, erosion and global warming dominate pleas to save what is left and reverse the impact of climate change.

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Photographer Renate Aller Captures the Spaces Between

Whether she’s watching a river of clouds snake through a mountain pass, or holding her breath as the sun breaks through a storm on the ocean horizon, Renate Aller has honed her ability to predict a moment — and only then does she click her shutter.

That split second, she says, is “the space between memory and expectation,” during which nothing inherently happens, but without which no change could occur.

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Buddhism Continues to Grow on the South Fork

When the three gongs sound, the Ocean Zendo practitioners take their seats in the Unitarian Universalist Meetinghouse on the Bridgehampton-Sag Harbor Turnpike — on cushions and mats, crossing their legs into full lotus, half-lotus and Burmese, or in chairs, their feet touching the floor, hands in their laps.

In the silence, their eyes do not close; instead, they drop to a 45-degree angle, unfocused, as they begin to breathe.

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