Minter in front of her new work up at Regen Projects' opening this Saturday.
Whitewall met with Marilyn Minter for a quick sneak peak of her upcoming show at Regen Projects in the midst of giant wood boxes and even bigger paintings.
Los Angeles is a strange city, a virtual land where reality sometimes mixes with fiction — love it or hate it — I love it. Coincidently, L.A.’s Regen Projects is where Marilyn Minter has chosen to present a massive show of her recent work. It’s a perfect location for the artist who seems to always evoke visceral reactions from her art.
As I approach the gallery, I’m struck by the size of the plywood boxes waiting outside. They tell me Marilyn Minter is here. It could be a movie set, but it’s better, it’s an art set. As I pass through the door, I’m greeted by Minter, sitting on a chair with a big smile on her face.
She walks me through the space — it’s just the beginning of the long installation process. Inside there are even larger wooden boxes. “This is a mock up of the installation,” she says, showing me a detailed 3D rendering map of the show. Around us are humongous dripping lips paintings (the Mouths series), and in the other room smaller photographs sit on the floor, waiting patiently. “Some of the pieces are not unraveled yet. It’s still too dirty here,” she says. ”They are [made with] raw paper that will hang on clips.” Indeed, as we speak, a crew is busy cleaning everything.
“This is a Pamela Anderson, it’s called Drip. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which one is a photograph or a painting.” I ask her what it means for her to be in such a space. “Things are just great, you know, I always wanted to work in a gallery as beautiful as this. This is a lifelong dream,” she continues, “It took me three years to do the Pamela Andersons, they took me so long. I saw this space two years ago and I’ve been working since then.”
The result is so fantastically dreamy that it transports me into a parallel reality. But it’s time for a longer conversation with Minter (for an upcoming Whitewall issue). We head for the gallery’s office and talk. After we end the interview, I take a few pictures before I leave. As I drive back to the East side, I’m left with a curious sensation, this uncanny feeling I sometimes get when I feel a work transcends time. Clearly, I’m under the spell.
