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
4 September – 6 October 2018, Tanya Leighton, Berlin
Tanya Leighton and Bureau, New York are pleased to announce a gallery swap this September and the debut solo shows by Julia Rommel in Berlin and Jonas Lipps in New York, respectively. Twin Bed, Rommel’s first solo exhibition in Germany, comprises seven new works on canvas. Jonas Lipps’ exhibition of new works on paper opens at Bureau on 13 September.
I tried to be more decisive when planning and starting these paintings, but they quickly strayed away from any plan, and ended up needing so much trial and error, so many returns to chance methods, so many layers, so many color insights from the outside world, for anything of real interest to come through. In short, a lot of chaos entered in before I could find the important parts and see the way to the slightly simplified end. I had an original goal of presenting a newness by way of elements being quick and thin and light — but that did not work out. The paint became thick, and I had to find a way to create life within this thickness. The paintings brought forth their own, new pace, even if the easy, early marks were long-gone.
This year, I have been determined to make conscious changes towards what I think I want in my personal life, and that also has not worked out — I have learned that I cannot force these things. In retrospect I should have known that I was trying to control too much. Mostly I’ve been swamped by just keeping up with each day, trying to get my work done, and absorbing the sadness coming in from the external world. However, moments of openness have also floated to the surface, surprising me. The painting titles are pulled mostly from the good experiences within these moments. And the colors too, I think, come from these experiences. Stubbornly, they all became bright paintings, despite my original plans to make them otherwise. The truth is, I’ve had a lot of fun this year. The fun, and happiness, has sneakily persisted despite my failures, and despite the news and analysis that constantly fills my ears while I’m working.
I’ve long been taking this lesson to my paintings: that good, lucky things happen because of (or despite) all the labor that sometimes feels so redundant, pointless, difficult. This is how it continues to play out for me. I wonder if I will ever have an idea or plan that I carry through to its foreseen conclusion. For now, that is not the way things work. What works, continuously, is the act of working itself, and locating the moments of unexpected luck within.
— Julia Rommel, August 2018