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
2 May – 27 June 2015, Tanya Leighton, Berlin
Math Bass, Saul Steinberg, Frances Stark, Michael Smith, Ad Reinhardt, Chadwick Rantanen, Ebecho Muslimova, Pentti Monkkonen, Charles Mayton, Sean Landers, Mike Kelley, Allison Katz, Ilya Kabakov, George Grosz, Laeh Glenn, Nicole Eisenman, Herluf Bidstrup, Richard Artschwager
It takes a degree of solipsism to be an artist. We gallerists, critics, and audience frequently talk about an artist's vision - as if looking at an artwork could somehow be tantamount to slipping on a pair of glasses that let us see through the artist's eyes. We talk about getting lost in paintings, enveloping ourselves in a version of the world imagined by our society's arbiters of vision. No Joke assembles artworks that stare back at their viewer, making light of their own conception and creation, and reminding the public of the ways in which they are consumed, fetishised, and traded. A tragicomic self-reflexivity is the unifying quality in all of the artworks on display.
It goes without saying that when we look at artworks we engage with them via a set of preconceptions that have been, whether knowingly or not, drummed into our minds. Art has languages that can be learned like any other. Luckily these can be punned around with, purposely misspoken and used for misdirection, creating humour through the incongruity between our expectations and what's actually being shown to us. Or said to us: here a landscape painting brims with nihilistic missives and abstract paintings pose existential questions to their audience.
No Joke brings together artworks that self-deprecate, that question the purpose of artists and art alike, but, simultaneously, they make sure not to spare any onlookers.
Featuring works by Richard Artschwager, Math Bass, Herluf Bidstrup, Nicole Eisenman, Laeh Glenn, George Grosz, Ilya and Emilia Kabakov, Allison Katz, Mike Kelley, Sean Landers, Charles Mayton, Pentti Monkkonen, Ebecho Muslimova, Chadwick Rantanen, Ad Reinhardt, Michael Smith, Frances Stark, and Saul Steinberg.
This exhibition would not be possible without generous help and support from Ann Artschwager, Amy Egerton-Wiley, George Grosz Estate, Ralph Jentsch, Emilia Kabakov, Jessica Lally, Philomene Magers, John Morace, Jana Peel, Ad Reinhardt Estate, Patterson Sims, Robert Snowden, Scott Ponik, and Amelie von Wedel.