Newport is filled with fine art galleries and art shops, but tourists and natives alike may be missing an intimate gallery space nestled in the heart of Hammetts Hotel, right on the corner of America’s Cup Avenue and Thames Street. The Sarah Langley Gallery is on the hotel’s first floor, just to the left of the concierge desk.
The gallery, open to the public and curated by Jessica Hagen Fine Art + Design in Newport, was named after the only female owner of the wharf in history.
The featured art in the gallery changes seasonally, and from now until April 30th, Massachusetts painter and photographer Karen Iglehart has transformed the space into a reflection on color and texture with her abstract oil on canvas paintings.
The exhibition, titled “Progressions,” relates to Iglehart’s experience of Buddhism. Each canvas portrays rich slabs, gashes, slashes, and pockets of color and texture; paint is layered on and just as easily swiped off with a quick cut of a pallet knife. Some of her paintings are reminiscent of seascapes, with layers of blues and purples overlapping and mixing like the undulations of the sea; her abstract work featuring “horizontals” compliments the feeling of open ocean, with the horizontal swabs of color reminiscent of little rowboats bobbing on the water. Her vertical collection can be startling with contrast and energy, with bright vertical forms slashing through an otherwise peaceful canvas devoted to the study of (mostly) a single color.
The abstraction and the contrast between the violent verticals and calming seascapes can seem extreme and unlike the gentle peace many associate with Buddhism. For Iglehart, the practice of Buddhism does not dictate the end result or the emotionality of any given piece; rather, she practices the philosophy through how she paints with oils. “I’m actually painting by reducing,” she explains, which follows the Buddhist idea of “impermanence.” Oils are particularly malleable and forgiving. The paint can be layered and mixed on the canvas to create plays of color, shadow, and light, wet and mixable for a long time due to its oil base. But just as easily as it can be mixed, the paint can be scraped away, revealing the original layer underneath. If Iglehart doesn’t like the way a painting looks when she hangs it on her studio wall, she simply changes it until the colors on the canvas feel right.
Iglehart finds the Buddhist idea of impermanence “liberating.” “Impermanence,” she explains, “quite often has a negative connotation.” For many, we like the idea of permanent stability, in any context. Impermanence, how Iglehart sees it, means that the future is open, and that can be a very good thing; you can choose the way you want to feel when you get up in the morning, she gives as an example, or, if you find yourself in a period of unhappiness, the idea of impermanence becomes comforting, an acknowledgement that pain, struggle, and unhappiness will pass.
The gallery space is intimate, with thirteen 30-by-30 paintings adorning the walls, but its intimacy allows for quiet contemplation – or meditation – of the abstract figures of impermanence. Stop in for a few minutes, and leave with the feeling of introspection that will last for a few hours.
