Tuesday
Apr142026

Sirens & Sinners

This month's exhibition with Asher Mains at Art House 473 in Calliste, Grenada is a little bit of a wander down memory lane.  Works from 30 years of painting the Mask Series, with new little paintings continue the exploration into human nature.  Asher creates the Sirens, incorporating ghost nets from the beaches of Calliste. Asher Mains and Susan Mains at opening of Sirens & Sinners

 

Installation View Asher Mains Installation View Asher Mains

Sirens and Sinners

In the intimate, chapel-like hush of Art House 473. It is a space itself steeped in reinvention as a former church turned contemporary art sanctuary, Sirens and Sinners unfolds less as an exhibition than as a quiet reckoning. The collaborative presentation by Asher Mains and Susan Mains resists spectacle. Instead, it leans into something more disquieting: the slow, persistent gaze of faces that seem to remember you.

The title gestures toward myth and morality, temptation and transgression, but the works themselves complicate any such binaries. Here, the “sirens” do not seduce so much as confront, and the “sinners” appear less condemned than deeply, almost tenderly, human. There is a sense that these figures, many rendered as mask-like visages, are not archetypes imposed from above, but identities accumulated over time, sedimented through experience. Indeed, the exhibition draws from what has been described as a decades-long exploration of masks and the stories they carry .

Susan Mains’ contribution feels especially steeped in this temporal layering. Her “little faces,” as they have been called, carry an uncanny weight: miniature yet monumental, naive yet knowing. They recall not only Caribbean masquerade traditions but also something inward, psychological, faces as thresholds rather than surfaces. One senses that each is less an object than a residue, the trace of a lived moment that refuses to fully dissolve.

Asher Mains, by contrast, brings a spatial and atmospheric counterpoint. His work situates these faces within a broader visual language, one that oscillates between abstraction and figuration, between environment and apparition.  His collection of found objects, ghost nets that wash up on the fishing village beaches of Calliste, become props in the presentation, and find their way in to the paintings, holding, caressing, even trapping the “sirens”.  As he studies Homer in the Odyssey and the works of St. Lucian Derek Walcott in Omeros, he creates his own magical realism narrative, deeply routed in the Caribbean life of the sea. 

If Susan’s pieces are intimate confessions, Asher’s are the rooms in which those confessions echo.

What binds the exhibition is its refusal to resolve. There is no clear moral axis here, no didactic narrative separating virtue from vice. Instead, Sirens and Sinners proposes a more unsettling thesis: that the categories themselves are porous, perhaps even illusory. The viewer is left to navigate a terrain where allure and guilt, innocence and complicity, coexist within the same gaze.

And perhaps this is where the exhibition finds its quiet power. In a cultural moment that often demands clarity, labels, positions, declarations, Sirens and Sinners insists on ambiguity. It invites us not to judge the figures before us, but to recognize them. To see, in their layered faces, something uncomfortably familiar. 

In the end, the show does not ask who the sirens are, or who the sinners might be. It asks, more subtly and more dangerously; when you look long enough, can you still tell the difference?

 Her Slippery Crown 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

Monday
Dec292025

Its a New Year 2026

 

I've been painting for this!  Always a pleasure to show with Gallery of Caribbean Art in Barbados. Would love to see my Bajan collectors at the opening.   

The definition for cacophony --a striking combination -- a cacophony of colour!

You don't have to wonder what the theme of this show is, just let yourself feel the rhythm, the sunlight, the heat of Caribbean-ness.  

I have been exhibiting with Gallery of Caribbean Art for more than 20 years, and am so happy to bring another set of work.  Times may change, but love only grows.

See you soon Barbados.

 Dancing Lady Bele 48" x 46" Oil on CanvasCacophony of Sails 24" x 36" AcrylicJust a baby. 12 x 9 Oil on Canvas

 

 

Sunday
Jul272025

Still working.

Somone asked me recently if I had any thoughts of retiring.  After I stopped laughing, I replied, "Why would I retire from work that I love?'   Still painting. Still curating. Still organizing international exhibitions for Grenada. I can't get fired, because I'm the boss.

What I didn't post here, Commissioner to the Grenada Pavilion at La Biennale di Venezia.

See the link.  A group project to try to get the public library in Grenada repaired and reopened.  See it in Venice, Italy until November 23, 2025.

 

The Grenada National Library

 

AND... 

 

Carifesta XV in Barbados in August will have visual art from Grenada as part of the offering.  Joining with at least 22 other countries, the celebration will shine.  See the website here for details

 

 

Saturday
Mar022024

The land the sea and the sand.

Appparently I am a wannabe Bajan.

Have a look at the exhibition at Gallery of Caribbean Art.

 

 

Saturday
Mar022024

The Land the Sea and the Hoi Polloi

The Gallery of Caribbean Art in Speightstown Barbados has graciously invited us to do another exhibit.

Faithful stalwart of a gallerist, Hazel Ann Mahy Batson has stayed with us through thick and thin, so that now after 20 years we can proudly say that we have shown 10 times in this lovely gallery.

If you love the paintings as much as I do, and want to take one to your home, just click here for

Gallery Of Caribbean Art.  They will make it so easy for you, and they ship world wide. 

Thanks for the love and loyalty all these decades.  Where would we be without you?

 

So where is Susan now? And what has she been painting.
Getting over the slowness of the pandemic has been hard on all of us. After all, we are not
making bread. And we can’t eat our paintings or wear them.
However if we are talking about the therapy needed get through that difficult time, I think the
artists were the luckiest of all.
Our usual is to be in the studio alone, working, meditating, correcting, and spilling paint. The
difference was that we weren’t getting paid for our efforts, because we couldn’t invite someone
over to see the work. So we didn’t get immediate feed back. We didn’t get that warm feeling
when someone connects with you through your painting.
We made plans, knowing they could be easily thrown out. One show I was organizing had three
dates pushed back. Eventually it was exhibited, but neither the artist nor the curator got to go
and see it. That’s not rewarding.
Surprisingly, we all kept busy. We all had hope in the future. We trusted that the path we follow
will still have some good for us along the way. That’s the thing about artists, we live in a fool’s
paradise. Happily.
This series is name “The land, the sea” and the hoi polloi”. The Hoi Polloi are the everyday
common people. In our case, the sailors, the fishermen, the farmers, the vegetable sellers.
The salt of the earth people who have always taken things in stride. We have Kick em Jenny,
our local undersea volcano rumbling at the moment. No one is panicking. We willl take it as it
comes.When the volcano in St. Vincent blew, we saved the ash to make some multi media art.
This series of work is deceptively simple. You take a glance and you think you know. Its a boat.
But did you realize the wooden boat is almost 100 years old. Built by hand, the hardwood
sourced from local trees. The caulking between the planks has been artfully pounded in by the
builder, who just wouldn’t trust that someone else would do a good enough job. The canvas
sails are recycled over and over, mending the rips, and not easily discarded. The waterline is
painted on by intuition, and when the boat is pulled into the water, the line hits the mark every
time. I can only imagine that the boat builder feels that same sense of satisfaction that we artist
feel when we complete that last stroke on the painting.
Come what may we continue to paint. We like it. Ok, true confession.
We love it.

Hope to see you on Sunday afternoon,
Susan
PS exhibition continues through 30 March.
Feel free to forward invitation