Thomas Ruff’s 9/11 JPEGs Broke My Heart All Over Again

Art World Thomas Ruff’s 9/11 JPEGs Broke My Heart All Over Again Twelve works by the German artist, created from 2004 to 2007, are on view at David Zwirner in Chelsea. Twelve works by the German artist, created from 2004 to 2007, are on view at David Zwirner in Chelsea. Katya Kazakina ShareShare This Article Walking into Thomas Ruff’s new exhibition, “jpegs ny,” at David Zwirner last night was like getting punched in the gut. There, in that pristine temple of contemporary art, hung a monumental diptych—each panel 8 feet tall and 6 feet wide—showing the Manhattan skyline as billowing smoke spreads from the burning Twin Towers of the World Trade Center. I froze. Outside, two ghostly beams of light pierced the dark sky, as they have night after night this week, commemorating the 25th anniversary of the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks by al-Qaeda—the deadliest strike against the United States in its history, with 2,977 lives lost on that day alone. Encountering Ruff’s 12 haunting photographs on the eve of 9/11 left me gasping for air. Some are wide shots; others are pixelated close-ups of smoke and destruction. All are painterly, their grisaille palettes infused with a plethora of purples. The first work as you enter, jpeg ny05, 2004, sets the tone: It shows a giant ruin that seems to disintegrate into the misty air. The image brought to mind Pieter Bruegel the Elder’s iconic 1563 painting Tower of Babel. Zwirner’s two other openings—Scott Kahn’s landscapes and Nate Lowman’s key paintings—were mob scenes, but Ruff’s show was nearly empty when I arrived toward closing time. Wandering through the rooms was the critic Blake Gopnik, who mused about whether the massive photo-based pieces were too painterly to depict the tragedy. The official 9/11 Commission Report described it as “a day of unprecedented shock and suffering in the history of the United States.” The German artist conceived the exhibition as a commemoration of the anniversary, according to the gallery. Earlier this year, the 12 pieces now in Chelsea were shown in Art Basel’s Unlimited section, which is devoted to monumental works. Other editions of works from the series are in the collections of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Stedelijk Museum in Amsterdam, the Broad in Los Angeles, and Glenstone in Potomac, Maryland. Ruff was in New York on September 11, 2001, and took numerous photographs documenting the day and its aftermath. But when he returned home to Germany several days later, they mysteriously disappeared, according to the gallery. In 2004, he embarked on the project, searching the internet for JPEG images of 9/11, then heavily compressing the low-resolution files, altering their colors, and enlarging them to monumental scale. The process magnified the digital imperfections of the JPEGs, resulting in the pixelated, painterly appearance of the final works. In total, Ruff created 15 “jpeg” works related to 9/11, according to the gallery. Art advisor Lowell Pettit, who once gave a lecture about the series at a symposium, called the pieces “haunting time capsules.” “I would struggle to live with one myself, but as an example of ‘history painting’ they’re without peer,” Pettit said. The works are not for sale, a spokesperson for the gallery said. Another 9/11 work by Ruff is included in a group exhibition at the New York City Fire Museum, the gallery said. Three hundred forty-three firefighters died on that day. As the names of these heroes were read aloud at a ceremony I attended in Midtown Manhattan this morning, Ruff’s pixelated imagery flickered in my mind’s eye.