This exhibition takes place in Frankfurt, inside the MMK Tower. Removed from spectacle and noise, the museum offers a quiet, vertical setting that suits Trisha Donnelly’s practice well. Here, nothing competes for your focus. The building holds the works in a restrained state, allowing their silence and ambiguity to slowly unfold on their own terms.
Trisha Donnelly’s exhibition does not announce itself loudly. There is no obvious entry point, no clear path that tells you where to begin or how to look. At first, this can feel unsettling. You keep waiting for the moment when things will “make sense.” That moment never really comes, and that is the point. What happens instead is slower and stranger. You notice how long you stand in front of a desk or a block of marble without knowing exactly why.
Cord Riechelmann writes about the unnameable and undecidable qualities in things as the difficulty of holding many ideas at once. That text felt like a quiet echo of what was already happening in the space. Donnelly’s work does not ask to be decoded or analyzed, it asks to be stayed with and felt. It allows for confusion, for attraction without explanation, for the discomfort of not having the right words.
One of the works that stayed with me most was The Secretary from 2008. It’s just a desk at first glance. It stands there with a kind of reserve, as if it was withdrawn from its function but kept the memory. You can feel labor in it, administration, repetition, hours spent sitting and thinking or not thinking at all. At the same time, there is no narrative attached, no story to follow. It becomes a place where meaning almost forms and then slips away. Standing in front of it, I felt oddly aware of my own body and posture, of time passing, of work as both a physical and mental condition.
The marble works were even more striking. I have seen a lot of marble in museums, polished, smooth and distant. Donnelly’s marble does something else entirely. Untitled, 2013 sits low to the ground, almost flattened, like something paused rather than finished. It feels provisional, as if it could still shift or slide, there is nothing monumental about it. The stone carries its weight quietly and the surface is restrained. It does not demand attention, but it quietly holds it.
Untitled, 2019 and Untitled, 2023 work differently. These pieces feel more architectural, almost infrastructural, with carved grooves and sharp recesses that suggest use without explaining it. The lines are precise, yet they do not add up to a function. The texture invites touch, but the form resists interpretation. There is a sense of compression here, of something condensed and held back. I kept thinking about how deliberate the restraint is. Nothing is decorative, every cut feels necessary, even if its purpose stays unclear.
Untitled, 2011 stands apart through its tilt. It leans just enough to unsettle you. The surface carries visible traces of carving, vertical marks that catch light unevenly. It feels exposed, almost vulnerable, despite the heaviness of the material. This piece made me acutely aware of my own position in the room. The sculpture does not stabilize itself for the viewer, instead it asks you to do some of that work yourself.
What connects these marble works is their refusal to be categorized. They are not standing in for something else. They remain stubbornly themselves. Heavy, present, and still hard to grasp. Walking around them, I noticed how much depended on angle and distance. A line that seemed soft from one side became severe from another. The light never settled on them in a single, readable way. You are constantly reminded that whatever you think you are seeing is partial.
The idea of holding multiple states at once without resolving them feels deeply embedded here, as Cord Riechelman writes. That idea feels deeply embedded in Donnelly’s practice. Photography, sculpture, and object blur into each other without explanation. They allow contradiction to remain intact, and in doing so, they ask the viewer to accept not knowing as a valid form of attention.
There is also a strong sense of restraint throughout the exhibition. Nothing feels overworked or overly explained. The responsibility is placed back onto the viewer, not to understand, but to be present.
Leaving the MMK Tower, I felt changed in a subtle way. Not energized or inspired in the usual sense, but sharpened and more attentive. The exhibition made me aware of how quickly I usually rush to name things, categorize and decide whether I like something or not. Donnelly’s work sits right in the space before that decision. It allows for hesitation and for not knowing.
It is not work you seek out to confirm an idea you already have about contemporary art. It meets you where you are, tired before a flight, slightly distracted, and gently pulls you into a different rhythm. Long after I left Frankfurt, I kept thinking about that desk, about the quiet tilt of marble, about how some things do not need to be named and categorized to stay with you.
