To Name A Few
27 April – 22 June 2019, Tanya Leighton, Berlin
Preview: Friday, 26 April 7–9 pm
I am sitting here with this feeling, and it is a familiar feeling, and it is my heart.
I am needing to reassure myself that I am not writing this letter to you, that I am
just writing it, simply writing it, simply letting it wander out.
I feel sad. My heart, my chest, what fills my chest, something like the taste of
copper, like sucking on a penny, like licking a 9 volt battery and getting a little
shock. It’s here, a little shock.
It has never been so apparent, the workings of shame embedded in my being so
old and outside, yet all the same my own deep thing to tend to, untangle, air out
And I guess it’s true, now I am writing to you. I am writing to you from me and
also to myself.
But isn’t that a letter?
The linear scroll is scraping against the pavement.
In my delusions I am literally some kind of a hero and that is embarrassing.
What holds the reigns, I think of some force, nameless, shapeless within and
outside this bodily container. Sending signals into outer space and actually
I can tell you the joy of this spring day, the brightness of 4PM light, the spirits
that burst through at this time. It’s almost too much of a drunken feeling to
manage. It’s almost too much.
There is my heart again. You know, I haven’t been able to feel my heart in so
And now I pause, and just stare at my hands, still on the board.
And in this moment I decided this letter is no longer for you, because I know
that you don’t want it.
This letter is for my heart, and I can say anything to my heart.
Right now, I am saying to my heart, I am sorry. I am sorry that I wrapped you up in cotton batting and put you away all tampered down and quiet. I am sorry that I hid you from myself, that I turned away from you while we were sleeping, and on purpose, many times.
I am sorry that I turned away from you, my heart. My beautiful, my tender, my sensitive, my loving, my strong, strong heart. And I am so sorry that I put you to rest so often as to no longer feel anything between my ribs and the sky.
To Name a Few
Tanya Leighton, Berlin
Gallery Weekend 2019
26 April – 22 June 2019
David Diao, 2018
Delmonico books — Prestel
With contributions from Philip Tinari, Michael Corris, Pi Li, Sarah K. Rich, Felicia Chen, Kerry Doran
Recipient of the 2019 Arnaldo Pomodoro Sculpture Prize
Solo exhibition opens in Fall 2019
Galleria d'Arte Moderna, Milan
Phaidon Contemporary Artist Series
Text by Julia Bryan-Wilson, Jeannine Tang, and Lanka Tattersall
...and other such stories
Chicago Architecture Biennial
Chicago Cultural Center
19 September 2019 – 5 January 2020
Fondazione Morra Greco, Naples
Tanya Leighton is delighted to announce that the Museum of Modern Art, New York has acquired Marianne Wex's Let's Take Back Our Space: 'Female' and 'Male' Body Language as a Result of Patriarchal Structures, 1977
Tanya Leighton Gallery, Berlin, established in 2008, is dedicated to developing a cross-disciplinary, trans-generational gallery programme with off-site projects, in collaboration with artists, filmmakers, critics, art historians, and curators. Its international exhibition programme reflects a variety of opinions and practices as well as Leighton’s associations with American and British experimental cinema, artist’s film and video, performance, minimal and conceptual art.
Director: Simon Gowing
Director: Patrick Armstrong
Project Manager: Marie Egger
Gallery Manager: Jessica Aimufua
Registrar: Henry Babbage
Finance Manager: Stefan Schuster
Tanya Leighton GmbH
Kurfürstenstraße 156 & 24/25
Open Tuesday – Saturday
11am – 6pm and by appointment
Celebrity Interviews with Tom Kummer
26 July – 5 August 2014, Tanya Leighton, Berlin
To think alone is to think poorly. Philosophy begins with the dialogue: it was through conversations that Plato (and his millions of readers) came to understand the world. Before long, though, philosophy became a succession of monologues. Still, good philosophy has arisen mostly from conversations: Marx and Engels, Horkheimer and Adorno, Deleuze and Guattari. In Greek, dialogos means 'conversation' and refers to logos - reason, language - that doesn't make itself absolute and instead is the outcome of discussion. The result: thinking and speaking 'live'.
In the best cases, interviews are conversations. The old-fashioned understanding that an interviewer is ignorant and the interviewee full of knowledge has resulted in interviews that are stiff, boring documents of one-way communication. For Tom Kummer, that's never the case. Kummer doesn't do interviews with people - he speaks to them, which is both easier and more difficult. Easier because it breaks up the unnaturalness of the situation - a situation where one person is repeatedly challenged while having to smile back at another. A situation where the journalist can always retreat to the position of asker: elegant, sitting on an armchair, his microphone as weapon, the legitimating power of the media behind him. But harder, too, because when the questioner becomes an equal conversation partner, he also waives his right to those privileges. Such a journalist doesn't hide himself behind his questioning, but rather brings himself completely into the conversation. This is the genesis of dialogues and - more important still - good texts.
To speak with celebrities, for the most part, is to speak with people who have given thousands of interviews. People for whom the transfer of information has become routine and who, just like journalists, have resigned themselves to their roles. These people are surprised when met with a conversation partner and not an interlocutor. They are surprised and threatened at the same time.
A celebrity who speaks with Tom Kummer learns - and as you can see, it's also fun for many of them. From Pamela Anderson to Johnny Lydon, from Sharon Stone to Quentin Tarantino.
Anyone familiar with the meticulous nature of the preparation done by Kummer before each interview knows that these dialogues are hard work. They begin with a scrupulous accumulation of knowledge, rising to the highest concentration during the interview, ending with stylistic honing while transcribing the tapes. These texts are created by means of a double tongue: the converser's as well as Kummer's own. Only those who take seriously the language of the other and try as authentically as possible to capture it can understand what dialogues are: texts with two authors.
© Ulf Poschardt, 1997
Pablo Larios is a writer based in Berlin.