Painter Shay Kun’s conceit is simple. His exhibition at LaMontagne Gallery features exquisitely painted landscapes that echo those of 19th-century American masters such as Thomas Cole and Albert Bierstadt. Into these he drops odd characters who enact perplexing narratives, disrupting these odes to nature’s majesty with bizarre and often violent human agency.
Sometimes the incursion is small, as in “If You Don’t Have a Strategy, You’re Part of Someone Else’s Strategy,’’ which lulls the viewer with rolling hills, a meandering brook, and the operatic play of dark clouds and sunlight in the sky. In the middle ground, a wreath hangs from a branch, ablaze with flame. Two men have propped a ladder against the tree’s trunk. Kun’s narrative is deliberately oblique. Is this a ritual? Some kind of effigy? It’s not clear. What is clear is that human presence besmirches the peaceful landscape.