A Material Memoir: Gerry Trilling’s Narrative Atlas
When I first encountered Gerry Trilling’s artwork in her studio at Studios, Inc., I came face to
face with a fuzzy pink rug that you would expect to find in the dorm of an art student, the
proper setting for this material is definitely not in an art gallery. Or is it? Trilling’s work
exemplifies her fascination with piecing together narratives through material culture. Her
newest show, “Narrative Atlas,” presented viewers with the personal story of her family’s
struggle assimilating into American culture after fleeing the Holocaust, winding up in St.
Louis by way of Vienna. Using individual covered panels, she created large, multifaceted
fabric paintings of unlike materials. Her investigation of people through looking at interiors
from their personal spaces created a conversation about the role of material in personal
identity.
Upon entering the show, the presentation caught my attention. Beside each installation, a
snippet of Gerry’s personal family memories gave viewers insight into each of her relatives’
personalities. As I walked through the space, it felt as though I knew her relatives personally
through both the stories being presented and the materials being incorporated. From the
story of Aunt Erna’s food hoarding habits to the broken wind up clock her parents has
received as a wedding gift, I felt as though I was at my own family get-together overhearing
my relatives talk about their own experiences growing up. I grew to understand the narrative
through the presented materials, assigning personalities to them the same as I do people.
The fuzzy pink rug began to become more than just a rug, it became my crazy Aunt Kathy
who loves drinking copious amounts of wine and playing Battle of the Sexes at family
gatherings, and materials such as wire act as a stand in for my grandpa who was in the
Vietnam war.
I started to treat the gaps between artwork as a pause to process the story and the roles of
the artwork that Trilling set them up to perform. Her use of multiple square and rectangular
panels carefully placed in relation to each other function as visual poetry through the use of
pauses and moments of reflection, while Trilling takes on a curator’s role through her specific
arrangement of the panels. Taking on both of these positions, what she leaves for viewers to
decipher is a complex, personal conversation between her artwork and the text. She
questions how materials function as stand-ins for memories and draws connections between
the life that the used material once had, while considering the aesthetic function it is serving
in her artwork.
From these relationships, each one of the works can be thought about as a portrait of a
person in Trilling’s life, or rather, a self portrait of a facet of her life. As I think about the
characters from the text on the walls, I feel Gerry’s artwork manifesting into a portrait of every
family member mentioned. I start to decipher the embellishment to her narrative the further
and further I get through the show, providing comedic comments which give insight into her
journey of establishing a life in America and giving an account of her assimilation into
American culture. The psychological link she has created between her life and the gaudy
materials she chooses becomes fetishized as she takes into consideration the purpose of the
materials outside her personal associations. Using materials that would more than likely be
found in the clearance section of Boca Bargoons, she chooses one-of-a-kind elements that
people don’t normally go out of their way to pick out. Instead of curating groups of panels
that already fit together due to their color palettes or textures, she chooses to rework them
into a separate piece of artwork that incorporates multiple aesthetics from uncommon
fabrics. Choosing the materials carefully, she is rewriting her family’s history through her
own eyes, using textiles to be reminiscent of her own family biases. Like a family, none of
the materials Trilling picks out are meant to fit together perfectly, making for a relatable view
of family through the histories of the textiles used.