The Art of Scent: A Multisensory Journey
Art isn’t just something you see—it’s something you can feel, smell, and immerse yourself in. That’s the premise behind this new triptych project, an installation inspired by the three scents of my handcrafted incense: No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3.
Art isn’t just something you see—it’s something you can feel, smell, and immerse yourself in. That’s the premise behind this new triptych project, an installation inspired by the three scents of my handcrafted incense: No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3.
This isn’t your traditional painting. Each piece in the triptych is a synesthetic exploration of scent, where color, texture, and form attempt to visually translate what it feels like to experience the fragrance. The installation brings together painting, sculpture, and scent into one cohesive, multi-medium expression.
The Concept
It all started with a page in my notebook—a rough sketch of three hand-blown glass vessels, each designed to hold one scent. These vessels will sit in front of large-scale panels, each a synesthetic representation of the scent it holds. The idea was to merge the physicality of scent with the visual language of color and texture, allowing the viewer to experience the fragrance in an entirely new way.
“Art, like scent, should linger—long after the moment is gone.”
The Process
The first panel, inspired by No. 1 (Rose and Clove), is a 14-inch by 50-inch painting that explores a gradient from super matte to high gloss. This gradation is my visual representation of how I smell No. 1—a transition from the deep, grounding notes of clove to the luminous, almost ethereal quality of rose.
For this piece, I experimented with a new technique: stretching the canvas in a way that creates folds or “pleats,” giving the surface a dynamic, almost sliding appearance. The creases feel alive, as though the painting is shifting, echoing the way scent moves and evolves as you experience it. This technique has opened up a new realm of experimentation in my work, and I’m thrilled to see where it takes me in future projects.
A Project in Progress
This installation is still in its early stages, but sharing its progress with you is part of the journey. The completion date? TBD. But this is where the excitement lies—in the process, the experimentation, and the possibilities of what this project will become.
Each panel will be unique, reflecting the distinct personality of its corresponding scent. The hand-blown glass vessels will act as sculptural extensions of the painting, adding yet another layer of interaction and meaning.
Where Art and Scent Meet
This project is as much about breaking boundaries as it is about storytelling. It’s an exploration of how scent—a fleeting, often invisible experience—can be grounded in visual and tactile form.
I can’t wait to share more of this journey with you as it evolves. What do you imagine when you think of the scent of rose and clove, or geranium and slate, or tomato leaf and frankincense? Soon, you won’t just imagine—you’ll see it.
Stay tuned for updates, progress shots, and the reveal of the final installation.
"Earthling" by Anthony Amadeo
“Earthling” is a reflection of how abstract forms can still carry the weight of a portrait—an otherworldly tribute to the human spirit.
What does a portrait look like when it’s not a portrait at all? When it’s stripped of the literal and rebuilt as an abstraction? "Earthling" is my answer to that question—a journey into a realm where figures dissolve into color, shape, and imagination.
62 in. x 50 in. | Acrylic, Pencil, Pastels, and Spray Paint on Canvas | 2022
This painting started as a challenge: what if my portraits were the most obscure, abstract versions of themselves? I began with a single fluid, transparent jewel-tone green—a color that felt like the atmosphere of another planet. Powdered, softened, and spread, it became the sky. Then came the figure: Adrian Jimenez, sketched lightly in pencil from a reference in my archives. But Adrian, as we know him, disappeared quickly, morphing into lines, curves, and blocks of color.
The process unfolded layer by layer:
With pastels, I created rough abstractions that danced across the canvas, as if trying to find their place in the world I was building.
I let the pastel and pencil lines sit and stared at them—really stared. From their movement, new shapes emerged. I followed them with bold paint, tracing their echoes with blocks and tubes.
That large neon green arc? It began as a leg. The sharp pink corner? That was an elbow.
Each piece of Adrian became something else entirely. A vision of what I think an earthling would look like on my planet.
What I love most about "Earthling" is its duality. At its core, it’s personal—a creative exploration that came to life over four months of sitting, staring, and imagining. But for the viewer, it’s a portal. It invites you to lose yourself in its optical illusions, to find your earthling within it, and to imagine the world they might call home.
Where does this take you?
Look closely. What shapes do you see? What world would your earthling inhabit?
“Earthling” is a reflection of how abstract forms can still carry the weight of a portrait—an otherworldly tribute to the human spirit.
Price Upon Request
Yellow by Anthony Amadeo
What is Yellow? Not as a color swatch on a paint tube but as a feeling, a memory, a texture. The challenge wasn’t just to use yellow, but to see it—feel it—and translate that sensation onto the canvas.
What would happen if you tell 10 artists to paint “yellow”?
What is yellow?
Not as a color swatch on a paint tube but as a feeling, a memory, a texture. The challenge wasn’t just to use yellow, but to see it—feel it—and translate that sensation onto the canvas.
54 in. x 43 in. | Acrylic and Spray Paint on Canvas | Astoria, Queens, 2022
Yellow, for me, is light. It’s warmth rolling across skin. It’s the way the sky stretches out as the sun drops behind a far-off horizon, leaving streaks of gold on water-stained clouds. I didn’t want to tame it. So I splashed yellow across the canvas—uncontrolled and unpolished, like sun rays burning through haze.
To shift the yellows, I darkened it with an earth tone and softened it with neutrals, watching the pigment move and sink. Every brushstroke landed like a soft echo of light.
And then came the fuchsia stripes—clean, rigid, architectural. A city interrupting nature. I thought of buildings catching the last light of day, their sharp edges cutting through the otherwise soft blur of a sunset.
This painting feels like standing on the edge of the skyline, breathing in the city and feeling the sun burn away the chill.
Yellow isn’t quiet—it’s alive. It reflects. It moves.
Price Upon Request