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
Hreinn Friðfinnsson & Bruce McLean
6 June – 3 August 2014, Grazer Kunstverein, Austria
The Grazer Kunstverein’s ongoing investigation into notions of social abstraction has been slowly shifting towards the often-direct relationships between artists and their surroundings. Both emotional as well as intellectual, these relationships frequently result in abstract translations that still keep ‘the social’ as their core point of interest.
Hreinn Friðfinnsson (b. 1943, IS) and Bruce McLean (b. 1944, GB) are pioneer artists from the same generation who, to this day, have never met. Juxtaposed to each another, these artists explore, each in their own way, their physical presence and relationship towards artistic production and representation.
In the mid-1970s, the Icelandic artist Hreinn Friðfinnsson placed an advert in a Dutch art magazine asking people to send him their secrets. By posing as a collector of secrets, the artist would, he thought, allay suspicions that he had any ulterior motive in using or revealing privileged information that might come his way. The secret, Friðfinnsson may be telling us, is that there isn’t one. His art, on the other hand, is an invitation to imagine that there might be. The artist’s work is known for its lyricism and subtle poetry that transcends the often-commonplace subjects and materials that the artist uses to create his pieces. He often presents found objects with which he interferes as little as possible, creating new works that investigate ideas of ‘the self’ and of ‘time’. Friðfinnsson is a natural storyteller. Most of his works often beg for a narrative, or the fabrication of a story.
On invitation to exhibit at the Tate Gallery in 1972, Bruce McLean decided to organize a one-day retrospective titled ‘King for a Day’, after which he would retire from the art world. Despite a distanced and often cynical approach towards the professionalized art industry, he seems to be more active then ever.
McLean’s early research into notions of sculpture gave him the reputation of ‘master at mockery’, questioning the production and representation of ‘the artist’ as well as ‘the work’ itself. It was with his performative works that he first grabbed the attention of the art world. Full of wit and humour, McLean critiqued the fashion-oriented, social climbing nature of the contemporary art world in the ’70s. At a later stage, the prop and painter-like aspects of some of the early performative works developed into theatre pieces and, most recently, into paintings.
Playing with these notions of ‘presence’ and ‘absence’, the Grazer Kunstverein presents a key selection of works that provoke and enhance the conceptual realm both artists seem to occupy.