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When this reporter reached Marilyn Minter by phone in her studio, a deafening metallic screeching sound in the background threatened to drown out the first few minutes of our conversation. “We’re manufacturing a fountain,” Minter explained. “A video fountain. You’ll see it in my next show.”
At age 74, Minter, a visual artist whose radically sensual work has been tantalizing and ticking people off for decades, is hustling, and has the accolades and cultural clout to prove it.
There’s a romantic, heady dreaminess to her contemporary paintings and photographs, many of which feature women in the nude bathed in hues of lavender or gold. Dripping liquid and steam ooze from tight close-ups of eyelashes and orifices, and mouths in her work are often biting down on beads or clusters of sticky pearls. Each image leaks indulgence and gleeful, sometimes mud-splattered mess.