These masks are manifestations of joy,
exalting what is human... animal,
what is alive
...and even what is past and gone,
for the spur that created them is
the same that moved the
shaman 20,000 years ago and knows
no boundaries from America to Africa,
making Siberian tribes and Australian
aborigenes spiritual brothers.
The full meaning of any of these masks
cannot be explained.
To delight the eye is not their sole
purpose. They proclaim the existence of beings
who don't belong to the practical,
everyday world, but are part of a universal force or power
pervading all animate and inanimate
matter. One should possess, among other powers,
the ability of identify himself with
an animal or magically to transform himself into one.
If most masks are meant to mask, of
hide one identity, these want of reveal, of create another,
and another more, for all of them
have two sides, two different entities. They should be
instruments of ecstasy... primordial,
mythological time reactualized... lived.
Having no need of disguise, the mask
is the supernatural being itself ready of attract
the good spirits, the spirits of peace,
health, love, joy and good fortune
that so haphazardly touch us.
He was so satisfied that he decided to devote himself exclusively to mask-making,
and has turned our more than 500 of them. “I found masks interesting because
are more than art,” he said. “They began as a tool of the shaman,
the medicine man of primitive times.”
Sainz said masks and culture are linked: “There seemed to be an inner need
of man to make masks” and called them the most universal form of art. “I
studied some primitive masks and thought, “Why not contemporany masks?
” And his new career was born.
Sainz does not share the primitive shaman’s notion that masks can cure
the sick, or make one rich, but does feel that they bring luck, as long
as one believes. And Sainz believes: “They bring me luck. I am in perfect
health and at the top of my creatíve powers.”
He has stories to tell about good omens, ones in which he said masks
have played a part. For example, 10 years ago Sainz was living in a loft
on Second Avenue in Manhattan. His building caught fire: “The whole place
was wiped out. There was extensive damage and most people had to move out.”
But Sainz’s apartment, filled with masks, was untouched. It suffered no
smoke or water damage at all.
“People can think what they what,” he said, “but I feel very protected
with my masks around me.”
Nor does he think the masks can work just for him. “I had a good friend—I won´t say her name because she is a fairly well-known artist—and she was very unhappy because she wanted to find someone to share her with,” he said. “She is really a wonderful person and I couldn't under-stand why it never worked out with any of the men she dated.”
To make a long storv short, one day Sainz and his friend decided to trade art: “She gave me one of her paintings and I gave her one of my masks.” And the next time the two spoke? «She called to tell me she was getting married, and she is still very happy today. I dont’t think she has ever made a connection with the mask, but I have."
Sainz himself is not unlucky in love. He has been living with the same woman for 15 years and said she is very supportive of his work, although she is very involved with her own career, which is writing. Sainz has made a mask in her honor: «I won't tell you which one it is because she doesn't even know. But I will tell you that it is one of the prettiest.”
He said it’s not uncommon for him to design a mask with a specific person in mind, although, as is the case with his woman friend, he never admits it to the person. “They are portraits to me, “he said, but I don’t say it because right away the person will say 'Oh, I hope that's not what I really look like. '”
Sainz is inspired by his materials as well as his friends. He often uses things in his masks that others would throw away. “I try to recyde things instead of wasting them," he said. The “things” include marbles, pieces of mirror glass and rope, to name a few. He also works with iron, wire, wood and metal chains, plus a variety of paints. “You name it, it's in one of my masks," he said.
Many
of his masks are two-faced; flip them over and you'll see a completely
different face. Sainz has specific reasons for making two-faced masks:
“In case one side doesn't work for you, you can try the other side. They
are meant to be used, to be touched, to be changed.” Also, he said many
people become quickly bored with artwork shortly after they purchase it.
A two-sided mask can provide some variety.
“At least they will notice it for a little longer if it can become another thing entirely just by turning it around.”
Sainz could not tell you the perfect place to put your mask because he believes in covering all bases. "I have them in each room of my house, and I also have some outside the house," he said. "My house is well-protected." Pressed to describe an ideal setting for his artwork, he admitted to one fantasy. "I would like to have a huge wall filled with masks so I could study how they relate to each other. Then I would like to take one down and put it on a wall by itself. Alone, they can look completely different."
Unfortunately for Sainz,
the mask business is not exactly booming. When he does sell one, he can
make from $400 to $1,500, but finding a buyer isn't always easy. "When
I was a painter I did much better financially," he said. "In a way, masks
are a sacrifice. But I didn't begin making them for financial reasons anyway."
He said many artists in
history, including Pablo Picasso, were interested in masks at one time
or another. "I never met anyone else who has done them for as many years
as I have," he said, "but they always have an appeal."
Part of that appeal, said Sainz, is that the masks can mean different things depending on who looks at them: The expressions can seem contented, or pensive, or even sad. But as far as Sainz is concerned, all the masks are happy because they reflect his mood when he is creating them.
"I could not begin to work on one if I'm unhappy," he said. "They are a source of joy to me; aside from the creative joy, I like just feeling them in my hands." He said they have become a part of him: "A little of me goes into each of them, and I plan on making them until I die."
Some masks can be completed
in three weeks, while others take six months, but Sainz wouldn't play favorites
even if he five years on the same one. They are like my children," he said.
"I love them all. How could I pick a favorite? The rest of them would be
jealous."
East Hampton, June
1986