3 minute read
Artist Oasis
Painter Anh Duong finds perfect light at her expanded, serenely decorated 1887 fisherman’s house in East Hampton.
By Donna Bulseco
Photography by Oberto Gili
Painters, especially those who do portraits, live for a certain quality of light, one that illuminates the emotional pitch and physical characteristics of the subject at hand. Artist Anh Duong is one of those painters who takes a deep, abiding interest in the way light looks in a given space, be it inside or out, and she counts herself lucky to have a place in East Hampton that delivers the magic. “It’s about the open sky,” says Duong when asked to characterize the
light that infuses the 1887 fisherman’s house she bought in the ’90s that was virtually untouched by upgrades at the time. “There’s something about the openness of the beach that creates a special light that enhances the beauty of what you’re looking at, so everything is crisp and bright in a natural way. You can’t achieve that effect with artificial light.”
Duong, who grew up in France, the daughter of a Vietnamese father and Spanish mother, spent summers on beaches in Bordeaux, entranced by the fresh air, crystal-blue water and magnificent sand dunes. Now, having a place in the quiet enclave she adores evokes those childhood memories. She has always loved to paint, but only got serious about her art when she came to the East End in the late ’80s and stayed for three summers at the Andy Warhol estate in Montauk. It was there that she developed the discipline and commitment of an artist. Duong’s body of work includes many self-portraits, her unusual beauty and striking features reminiscent of Modigliani’s soulful portrait of an elegant woman named Lunia painted in 1919.
For the past few years, Duong has been hard at work on several artistic endeavors that will be revealed in 2019. Yet her time in the Hamptons has a different agenda: to relax, unwind and separate herself from the “crazy rhythm” of New York City. Sure, she’ll socialize, walking to a casual dinner at a friend’s place, with a homemade clafouti or tarte tatin in hand. “Obviously, I care for fashion, and I love the activity of the city, but in my downtime, I don’t want to put on makeup, and I’m very happy in my pajamas,” Duong says with a laugh. “The beauty in life is to have contrast.”
Her house is itself a study in contrast, with low-ceilinged rooms as well as high-ceilinged ones, a layout that affords a feeling of coziness in certain spaces and openness in others. “That was important to me,” says Duong. “I like the rhythm of different rooms.” A year after she moved in, she and her good friend architect Daniel Romualdez tinkered with the layout by moving a staircase to open up the living room; a fireplace and second-floor bathroom were added, while outside, a cottage on the property was converted into a painting studio. Duong so values Romualdez’s aesthetic that she asks him for advice on everything from what to wear to a fancy event to where to settle a bright rug she brought back from Capri. “Daniel has an amazing eye,” she says. “He’s capable of doing ‘bohemian’ or ‘uptown’ and makes a home practical in a sophisticated European way that for me is comfortable.”
Throughout the house, paint tones differ from room to room in the subtlest way. “I didn’t want the house to feel generic, with every room the same pristine white or beige,” says Duong. Instead, there’s a slight shift between rooms painted in dust tones, “as if there’s a change of light but no shocking transition.” The kitchen is the one departure from the soft palette: It’s painted a deep periwinkle blue and serves as a strong backdrop for a portrait of the house that Duong did her first summer there. In it, the view is from the guesthouse; there’s a pergola and wisteria and native greenery without a lot of trees. “When the moon is full,” says Duong, “you can really see the moonlight, the most mysterious light of all.”