Barbara Mink

I'm introducing a new piece at the forthcoming State of the Art show, in conjunction with the Light in Winter festival. Flatter, less textured, more emphasis on line, but still in the relatively narrow color palette of white, black, beige, hints of red. I do love going back and forth between large and small scale as well as differences in texture and line; the one thing i don't do well is stay in one place.

The other Paris exhibit was at the Musee de quai Branley, the controversial primitive art museum near the Eiffel Tower. An exhibit called Upside down Arctic was a multimedia installation featuring fabulous masks and tiny detailed inuit sculptures and talismans, all over a thousand years old. Air conditioning and fake snow may have been a bit kitchy, but the ambient animal sounds and creaking ice made the whole thing work. Good discussion with my friend James Siegel, anthropologist, on the role of masks in ancient cultures and how they fit in (or don't) with the aesthetic of an art museum.

Sitting in CDG airport in Paris, languishing as flight home delayed five hours, a good to to reflect on some of the art experiences this past week.I was especially impressed by an exhibit of Jacques Villagle, specializes in incorporating ripped advertising posters (ripped by others) into large-scale collages with acrylic paint. In the retrospective at the Beaubourg I was really struck by one period in his output which came close to Abstract Expressionism; heavily textured paintings because of the paper and words, but pulled together with large color fields, a la Rauchengberg, Clyfford Still, Rothko. I think I'm going to try incorporating words and pictues along with the photo transfers I did last year, perhaps a good way to reinforce the texture of the acrylic medium.

Sigh. It IS odd, trying to launch a new business venture in the midst of a worldwide economic recession, but I guess one does what one must. The giclee prints on canvas I've had produced locally came out beautifully, I think; the big oils and acrylics scale down nicely, and they ARE an affordable alternative to the originals. But people are understandably wary of laying out money right now, so... we'll see.

It's hard to believe almost a month has passed since my last post during Art Trail; everything was subsumed bythe excitement and triumph of the election. Now that I can think of other things, I'm thinking about the different attractions of abstract and representational painting. I do love realistic renderings of people and still life arrangements; but I really enjoy the freedom and complexity of abstract improvisation. The materials take on an interesting new role , more like a partner than a medium to be bent to your will. The resulting layers of color and texture are fun to explore over and over again; a different experience as a viewer, and certainly a different process as a painter.

I was sitting at State of the Art Gallery yesterday, during five hours of pouring rain, and was amazed at how many people stopped by despite the bad weather. The Ithaca Art Trail show, which comes down next week, is a particularly good one, I think. It's amazing how many people live and work as artists here without an official gallery affiliation. Ithaca's central isolation and small population is a challenge, but it's a great place to produce; and a great place for people to visit. Many of the member sales in the gallery are to visitors from elsewhere. High hopes for my new online venture!

I grew up as my father’s painting assistant, helping lug his huge Expressionist canvases to various shows, going with him to sketch at Niagara Falls, minding the booth at the outdoor art fairs where he exhibited his work. I loved painting and sculpting myself but I didn’t get a lot of encouragement; art was my father’s domain. As I moved into adolescence I found different creative outlet for myself; acting in theatre, radio and on television; making jewelry; sewing clothes; painting glassware. Ten years ago I woke up on a January morning with the irresistible urge to paint. I don’t know where it came from or why it showed up on that particular day, but before the urge could pass I reached for my young daughter’s watercolors and began painting. I went through an entire pad of paper and that was that. I was painting. My first formal art class was in botanical illustration, which was wonderful for teaching me about close rendering, but I found that I couldn’t keep my irises on the page...