LUCY JANE TURPIN: Tender seasons of intimacy // Tenere stagioni d’intimità

PRESS RELEASE

LUCY JANE TURPIN

LUCY JANE TURPIN: Tender seasons of intimacy // Tenere stagioni d’intimità
Apr 9 – Apr 30, 2025

Tender seasons of intimacy // Tenere stagioni d’intimità, a solo exhibition by Lucy Jane Turpin.

Opening reception: Wednesday 9th April - 6pm

 

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Tender seasons of intimacy

 

4

Bodies

bound by the laws of physics

We take space

only to reach so far

What is deepest (intimus) is always deepening.

Breasts, toes, warm mouths, dreams

in the dark, we offer what is soft.

How quickly a whisper blurs the edges of matter[1]

Can abstraction pull us out

into the same palm[2]

 

1

Tender –

gentle, kind

delicate, attuned

careful

burning.

Scars grow numb to touch but

the desire, the restraint 

to press a bruise.

If we asked what we loved, what we lusted

where it feels a trace

would we remember how to kiss it better

would we remember how to kiss

would we remember

 

5

What if

in The Beginning, there was not Time

but the idea of Time

To be imagined –

is this not the first stage of existence?

Just as a conversation starts not with speech

but with listening[3]

If we were to press our ear to the canvas,

whose ecstasy, whose confession, whose beginning

would we hear?[4]

 

3

Are We tender enough

Do We dare disturb the universe?[5]

 

2

Barthes, Derrida, Zambreno —

Writing consumed by the presence of absence

But what is it to paint absence?

Winter, only an abstraction of Spring

the unsaid, more intimate than the said

Ambiguous, anonymous seasons occur at the precipice.

Without language,

is an image only faithful to itself?[6]

 

7

In fairytales, a kiss can resuscitate

Might we believe,

the same is true for paintings

 

6

To gaze at a painting may cost a man his faith[7]

but not his tenderness.

Tenderness knows –

we can miss someone before they have arrived

there is soft tissue between knuckles

Nothing is immune to sorrow.

In sand, in snow, in water – why is it we fly on our backs?

Has tenderness not always been,

a way of sinking, as we look up

 

 

Written by Robyn Perros in collaboration with the artist

 

 

 

1 “Matter feels, converses, suffers, desires, yearns, and remembers”Karen Barad in New Materialism: Interviews & Cartographies (2012) by Rick Dolphijn and Iris van der Tuin

2 tendre (adj. /t??d?/) from Anglo-French meaning softness, delicacy, or love. tendre (v. /t??d?/) from French meaning to offer, to stretch, to hold out

3 Lipari. L. 2014. Listening, Thinking, Being: Towards an Ethics of Attunement. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press

4 “Tenderness is entering into a relationship with someone who is not me— Olga Tokarczuk, The Tender Narrator, translated by Jennifer Croft and Antonia Lloyd-Jones, from Nobel Lecture (2019)

5 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock' by T.S. Eliot. Collected Poems 1909-1962 (1963)

6 Tenderness is the most modest form of love… spontaneous and disinterested; it goes far beyond empathetic fellow feeling. Instead it is the conscious, though perhaps slightly melancholy, common sharing of fate— Olga Tokarczuk (2019)

7 Reference to the painting 'Body of the Dead Christ in the Tomb' by Hans Holbein (1521) which reportedly had a profound impact on Russian novelist Fyodor Dostoevsky when he encountered it during a visit to Basel in 1867. According to Anna, his wife, Dostoevsky was deeply moved and disturbed by the painting, standing before it for hours, transfixed.