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Gagosian Quarterly

Winter 2020 Issue

Tatiana Trouvé:From March to May

A portfolio of the artist’s drawings made during lockdown. Text by Jesi Khadivi.

Tatiana Trouvé, April 4th, “The New York Times,” USA; April 11th, “South China Morning Post,” China, from the series From March to May, 2020, inkjet print and pencil on paper, 19 ⅞ × 26 ¾ inches (50.4 × 68 cm)

Tatiana Trouvé, April 4th,The New York Times,” USA; April 11th,South China Morning Post,China, from the series From March to May, 2020, inkjet print and pencil on paper, 19 ⅞ × 26 ¾ inches (50.4 × 68 cm)

When the quarantine was announced, newspapers from countries around the world being ravaged by the pandemic took on new meaning. I began, each day, to draw on the front page of a paper—it was a way of escaping the confinement, and of being connected to the strange atmosphere that was spreading around the globe with the virus. This world tour via headlines and front pages was like a journey in reverse. Suddenly, I could no longer meet the world unless the world came to me, through the newspapers. Governments and leaders around the world should have seen this as an opportunity to reconsider our societal and economic models. But no. This crisis has only heightened my anger at the inequalities we accept daily, and at the contempt we show for our planet.

—Tatiana Trouvé


Click on image to view portfolio:

Tatiana Trouvé: From March to May

Tatiana Trouvé, April 7th, The New York Times,” USA, from the series From March to May, 2020, inkjet print, pencil, and linseed oil on paper, 19 ⅞ × 15 inches (50.4 × 38 cm)

In March of 2020, when the novel coronavirus prompted a wave of lockdowns around the globe, Tatiana Trouvé began to draw. Each morning she began a new work atop the front page of a different international newspaper. This daily practice, she explained to me during a video call toward the end of the lockdown, was a way to travel around the world from within the confines of her studio. By bringing together the daily rhythms of publishing and the practice of drawing—which in her hands has a diaristic quality, and a relative speed compared with other traditional artistic mediums—Trouvé’s suite of fifty-six drawings captures the elasticity of time and its many different registers: its dynamic, elusive quality, its peculiarity, its equal ability to move quickly and not at all.

We tend to think of time as easily measurable, an unbroken, orderly flow from the past to the future. Yet as the theoretical physicist Carlo Rovelli notes, “What we call ‘time’ is a complex collection of structures, of layers . . . Times are legion: a different one for every point in space. There is not one single time; there is a vast multitude of them.” A state of exception creates a rupture in our sense of time, an uncanny zone. Here, elements of normalcy might mingle with an underlying sense of dread. A day might seem like an eternity, or what was once familiar might bristle with an overwhelming strangeness.

Throughout her thirty-year career, Trouvé has consistently grappled with fugitive temporalities, imperceptible movements that are either, as the artist explains, “too fast for us to gain a clear image of them” or “too slow for us to discern their movement.” Her recent engagement with newspapers highlights the temporality of the print format, as well as its endangerment—threatened not only by the decline of print media but by the proliferation of fake news in a “post-truth” era. As the circulation and morphing of information accelerates, particularly when following the trail of an international pandemic, a printed newspaper today may be outdated before it even hits the newsstands. Trouvé’s recent drawings therefore form a kind of time capsule, merging an official public narrative from a fixed moment with private, hermetic reflections from roughly the same time, and generating a dreamlike space in which different times and places coexist and are superimposed.

—Jesi Khadivi

Artwork © Tatiana Trouvé; photos: Florian Kleinefenn

Jenny Saville’s Prism (2020) on the cover of Gagosian Quarterly magazine.

Now available
Gagosian Quarterly Winter 2020

The Winter 2020 issue of Gagosian Quarterly is now available, featuring Jenny Saville’s Prism (2020) on its cover.

Tatiana Trouvé, Between sky and earth, 2012–.

Tatiana Trouvé: In Time

In upstate New York, Jenny Jaskey discovers Tatiana Trouvé’s Between sky and earth. Begun in 2012, this multifaceted installation exists as a crucial nexus in the artist’s career, both a result of her ongoing practice and a generative source for continuing investigations.

Before the Smoke Has Cleared

Before the Smoke Has Cleared

Angela Brown provides a glimpse into the charged ecologies of recent drawings and sculptures by Tatiana Trouvé. These works will be included in On the Eve of Never Leaving, Trouvé’s first solo exhibition in Los Angeles, opening in November 2019.

The cover of the Fall 2019 Gagosian Quarterly magazine. Artwork by Nathaniel Mary Quinn

Now available
Gagosian Quarterly Fall 2019

The Fall 2019 issue of Gagosian Quarterly is now available, featuring a detail from Sinking (2019) by Nathaniel Mary Quinn on its cover.

Trouvé and Grosse: Villa Medici

Trouvé and Grosse: Villa Medici

Tatiana Trouvé and Katharina Grosse discuss their exhibition Le numerose irregolarità, at the French Academy in Rome, Villa Medici, with curator Chiara Parisi.

Gagosian Quarterly Spring 2018

Gagosian Quarterly Spring 2018

The Spring 2018 Gagosian Quarterly with a cover by Ed Ruscha is now available for order.

Walter De Maria, The Lightning Field, 1977, long-term installation, western New Mexico. Artwork © Estate of Walter De Maria. Photo: John Cliett, courtesy Dia Art Foundation, New York, and © Estate of Walter De Maria

Light and Lightning: Wonder-Reactions at Walter De Maria's The Lightning Field

In this second installment of a two-part essay, John Elderfield resumes his investigation of Walter De Maria’s The Lightning Field (1977), focusing this time on how the hope to see lightning there has led to the work’s association with the Romantic conception of the sublime.

Dennis Hopper, 1969. Photo: Columbia Pictures/Album/Alamy Stock Photo.

Dennis Hopper’s Taos Ride

Douglas Dreishpoon reflects on speaking with Hopper at the Harwood Museum of Art, Taos, New Mexico, in 2009.

Walter De Maria, The Lightning Field, 1977. Entire field from northwest exterior looking southeast, summer 1979

A Day in the Life of The Lightning Field

In the first of a two-part feature, John Elderfield recounts his experiences at The Lightning Field (1977), Walter De Maria’s legendary installation in New Mexico. Elderfield considers how this work requires our constantly finding and losing a sense of symmetry and order in shifting perceptions of space, scale, and distance, as the light changes throughout the day.

Jeff Wall, Dead Troops Talk (a vision after an ambush of a Red Army Patrol, near Moqor, Afghanistan, winter 1986), 1992, transparency in lightbox, 90 ⅛ × 164 ⅛ inches (229 × 417 cm)

Death Valley ’89: Jeff Wall vs. Photography

Daniel Spaulding considers formal and technical developments in the photographer’s work against the background of global shifts of power and politics, specifically the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989.

François Aubert, The Shirt of the Emperor, Worn during His Execution, 1867, albumen silver print from glass negative, 8 ¾ × 6 ¼ inches (22.2 × 15.8 cm). Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Gilman Collection, Gift of the Howard Gilman Foundation, 2005

Édouard Manet: Death in the Afternoon

In this second installment of a two-part essay, John Elderfield resumes his investigation of Édouard Manet’s Execution of Maximilian, focusing this time on the political and historical implications of the artist’s formal treatment of real, violent events.

Henri Matisse, The Music Lesson, 1917, oil on canvas, domestic interior scene of people in the livingroom at the piano, reading chair, and window

Lockdown: Henri Matisse’s Domestic Interiors

John Elderfield reexamines Matisse’s Piano Lesson (1916) and Music Lesson (1917), considering the works’ depictions of domestic space during the tumult of World War I.