Ever since I interviewed Leonard Koren, the founder of WET magazine, I've been feeding my newfound fascination with water. So naturally it made sense to pay a visit to the legendary Marilyn Minter, whose wet paintings, photographs, and videos (such as this one) never fail to capture splashing liquid in a stunning way. Marilyn's best-known work possesses Pop and glamour sensibilities, as well as sexual imagery that has done its fair share of scandalizing ("I was demonized... I was cast out of the art world," she has said of the experience that dates back to the 80s). Jeremy and I dropped by her midtown Manhattan studio, which was bustling with young painting assistants, not unlike those buzzing about the workspaces of the Italian Renaissance masters.
Alexandre Stipanovich: When did you arrive in New York?
Marilyn Minter: In '76, when I moved to a loft on Mercer Street, right near the Opening Ceremony store, and rent was $300. I still live there––they can't get rid of me! [Laughs] I would have never been an artist if I didn't have that place. Because I was really broke at the time, I rented out the front to a gallery for a while. During the day, I worked part-time teaching art at a Catholic high school. So I would go home and walk through the gallery to paint and shoot in the back. That was the way I survived for years.
AS: Did you start as a photographer or as a painter?
MM: I always started working from images. I was never somebody who could paint from their head. I constantly need references. Some people work out of their heads, some people work from nature, and I've always needed something from culture. So I guess all my sources are culture sources.
AS: Can you tell us about your technique?
MM: All of the work I've been doing lately is behind glass. These paintings here, on my wall, are actually made from 35mm film negatives. I know, shocking right? [Laughs] They sure don't look like it! They've been Photoshopped tremendously––like 80 layers of Photoshop––so all of the paintings are total constructs; they don't exist as a photo. We take elements from some photos and project them onto others in the process. I change things all the time. It takes years for assistants to learn what they're doing here. It's a real technique!
AS: How did you come up with it?
MM: Just organically. I started doing it myself with two fingers. But I don't paint here anymore; there's just too much going on. Now Johan, my second-in-command with whom I've been working since 1992, is the finisher and our assistants make the first layers. When I stopped being a finisher, my paintings got a lot better because I could get some distance from them.
AS: Where does your fascination with water come from?
MM: I don't know! I always thought it was because I'm a sweater––know what that means? Some people are always too hot, you know? I'm one of those people. When I used to be a volleyball player, I'd be soaked in one game. That's the only thing I can think of... I'm a water sign? [Laughs] It's not always water though; in Playpen it's silver paint.
AS: True. Still, there's a lot of freshness in the wet works, maybe because of their sharp quality.
MM: I took these images and put them behind glass. They're not really people, they're images I've alre
Alexandre Stipanovich: When did you arrive in New York?
Marilyn Minter: In '76, when I moved to a loft on Mercer Street, right near the Opening Ceremony store, and rent was $300. I still live there––they can't get rid of me! [Laughs] I would have never been an artist if I didn't have that place. Because I was really broke at the time, I rented out the front to a gallery for a while. During the day, I worked part-time teaching art at a Catholic high school. So I would go home and walk through the gallery to paint and shoot in the back. That was the way I survived for years.
AS: Did you start as a photographer or as a painter?
MM: I always started working from images. I was never somebody who could paint from their head. I constantly need references. Some people work out of their heads, some people work from nature, and I've always needed something from culture. So I guess all my sources are culture sources.
AS: Can you tell us about your technique?
MM: All of the work I've been doing lately is behind glass. These paintings here, on my wall, are actually made from 35mm film negatives. I know, shocking right? [Laughs] They sure don't look like it! They've been Photoshopped tremendously––like 80 layers of Photoshop––so all of the paintings are total constructs; they don't exist as a photo. We take elements from some photos and project them onto others in the process. I change things all the time. It takes years for assistants to learn what they're doing here. It's a real technique!
AS: How did you come up with it?
MM: Just organically. I started doing it myself with two fingers. But I don't paint here anymore; there's just too much going on. Now Johan, my second-in-command with whom I've been working since 1992, is the finisher and our assistants make the first layers. When I stopped being a finisher, my paintings got a lot better because I could get some distance from them.
AS: Where does your fascination with water come from?
MM: I don't know! I always thought it was because I'm a sweater––know what that means? Some people are always too hot, you know? I'm one of those people. When I used to be a volleyball player, I'd be soaked in one game. That's the only thing I can think of... I'm a water sign? [Laughs] It's not always water though; in Playpen it's silver paint.
AS: True. Still, there's a lot of freshness in the wet works, maybe because of their sharp quality.
MM: I took these images and put them behind glass. They're not really people, they're images I've alre