New York

Tracey Emin

Lehmann Maupin | New York, W 22 Street

Tracey Emin claims not to have been reading much lately, but it’s obvious that she remains invested in the poignancy and poison of words. In 2005, she published a memoir of sorts with the self-mythologizing title Strangeland, and she has also taken to writing her own weekly column in an English newspaper, The Independent. Just days before her November opening at Lehmann Maupin, her entry from abroad bore the subtitle “When I’m miles from home I sometimes have a clear view—and God, my life’s a mess.” The refrain is a familiar one from this artist who came to prominence during the ’90s YBA explosion.

Emin’s art practice has, from its inception, been steeped in provocative, confessional language. She is best known for brash, faux-folksy, handmade goods, including colorful quilts appliquéd with (regularly misspelled) phrases such as PSYCO SLUT and her infamous (and now infamously incinerated,

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