Dan's Papers - June 12, 2009

There are so many intriguing aspects to Ned Smyth's newest exhibit currently at the Salomon Gallery that it's difficult deciding what comes first when articulating his work.

We could start with the title, "Seeds and Stems," as an indication of Smyth's theme. Even so, we would be guessing at best, because the installation is so rich with meanings. But we'll give it a try, nonetheless.

This critic is struck by Smyth's penchant for the past and the origins of things. The connotation of "Seeds," then, is an apt description for the artist's idea of "beginnings." Out of seeds comes the concept of "Stems," or growth and evolution.

From the basic metaphor evoked by "Seeds and Stems," we are perhaps able to discern other dimensions. For example, in a discussion with this critic, Smyth mentions his appreciation for Joseph Campbell. If we apply Campbell's theory of the "Mythic Hero," we can understand the reasons for such an appreciation, although admittedly, Smyth may have had something else in mind.

Campbell's hero is one who leads a normal life with traditional values. Through a guide he embarks on a journey, discovering a different, unknown, and even magical, place. He learns many things from this new experience and takes the lessons learned back to his own home. (The film Witness, with Harrison Ford as a cop hiding out among the Amish, is a good example of this journey.)

Without much to go on except instinct, this critic believes Smyth has (and is) experiencing a similar journey: His discovery of an unknown world replete with ancient rocks and other primal objects provokes his own individual sculptures and installations. Such works are the lessons he is bringing back to us, the viewers, which leads us to ask a salient question: What are Smyth's lessons?

Obviously, there are many. Consider that his rock and twig installations define the history of material, as they also allow us to revere natural-made forms. But Smyth takes this reverence a step farther with the juxtaposition of man-made concrete slabs and natural shapes. Is he suggesting that nature and man can co-exist?

Even so, the rocks also infer that configurations found in nature mirror real shapes in life, like male and female torsos, for example. Or is it human beings who do the mirroring, creating things that first exist in nature? This seems reasonable, considering that we all know there is no such tenet as originality, per se, in an artist's output. According to some people, originality only comes from God (in the form of nature/"original creation").

We can't help but wonder if Dame Barbara Hepworth's sculptures also focus on the same questions. Her man-made works look like prehistoric stones, reflecting the real Celtic rock formations that flourish near her St. Ives' home in Cornwall. If ever an artist was influenced by his/her environs, Hepworth's oeuvre is a perfect example. The same could be said of Smyth's remarkable stone sculptures collected from Long Island's distant past.

Ned Smyth's exhibit will be on view at East Hampton's Salomon Gallery until June 28. Please call 917-617-0828 for directions and hours.