An electrifying parade of sex, smoke, and sullen silences has taken over a gallery in London. Nan Goldin's seminal photographic work, 'The Ballad of Sexual Dependency', is currently on display at the Gagosian gallery, offering a raw and intimate glimpse into a world that feels uncannily present more than four decades after it was captured.
A Diary for the World to Read
First created as a slideshow in the 1980s, the Ballad is a compilation of photographs Goldin took between 1973 and 1986. She has described it as the diary she lets people read. The artist's Nikon camera was a constant companion, so ever-present that her friends and subjects often forgot it was there. The current exhibition presents the series as 126 framed photographic prints, stacked four high and covering three expansive black walls at the Gagosian.
The original slideshow was an immersive, 45-minute experience featuring up to 800 images set to a soundtrack that could include everyone from Maria Callas to Dean Martin. Goldin first presented it in New York nightclubs and bars, her audience her own peers. In its new, static form, the effect remains cumulative and powerful. The eye skitters between images, pinballing from captured moments of tenderness to violence, from joy to deep introspection.
Life on the Brink: Intimacy and Violence
The images pull no punches. Viewers encounter a lost world of louche lovers, late-night parties, and beach days. We see Robin smoking beneath a mirrorball, Suzanne crying in a tiled bathroom, and a man named French Chris posed like a beautiful corpse on a convertible bonnet. The work also documents profound personal trauma, including clusters of photographs showing Goldin's own black eye and bruised face after she was badly beaten by a boyfriend.
One particularly haunting image shows Brian sitting on the edge of a bed, lost in thought. The photograph was taken with a camera on a tripod; Goldin and Brian had been documenting themselves having sex. A year later, the same man would assault her. This tension – between intimacy and danger, love and loss – defines the series. Each photograph, as the review notes, leaves the viewer on a kind of brink, asking 'what's the story?'
A New Normalcy in a Pre-Digital Age
What strikes a contemporary audience is not how edgy or marginal the lives of Goldin's 'adoptive family' of friends appear, but how normal they seem today. In an era of curated smartphone mirages, Goldin's work stands as a pre-digital testament to documenting life on the fly. Her camera, she says, often saw more than she did. The apparent casualness of her approach is deceptive, revealing a masterful eye for emotional texture and atmosphere.
The exhibition is bracketed by two powerful images: it begins with the Duke and Duchess of Windsor as waxworks and ends with graffiti skeletons locked in an embrace. In between, we witness the full spectrum of human experience within Goldin's orbit. The Ballad remains a compelling and rewarding exploration of relationships, proving that not everyone who can hold a phone can take photographs worth looking at.
Nan Goldin: The Ballad of Sexual Dependency is at Gagosian, London, until 21 March.
