At 84, the artist Bruce Nauman continues to explore the boundaries of physicality and perception in his latest body of work, which includes 42 videos and 16 accompanying drawings presented for the first time in a pop-up gallery in TriBeCa. The exhibition features a series of 3-D high-definition slow-motion videos depicting Nauman drawing simultaneously with a stylus in each hand, a method he calls “double drawing.” These pieces reflect the artist’s preoccupations with chance, repetition, and the interplay between mental and physical processes.

Filmed in New Mexico, specifically in the late painter Susan Rothenberg’s former studio, the videos rely on natural light and the use of iPhone 15s to capture the subtle nuances of Nauman’s movements. The artist, whose right arm is partially impaired, developed the double drawing technique partly as a physical exercise to regain mobility, blending bodily constraints with creative exploration. The slow pacing of the footage amplifies every sound and movement, creating an atmosphere where even incidental elements—such as studio clutter or a subtle nasal discharge—take on an unexpected prominence.

Nauman, who gained recognition from early work in San Francisco and later settled near Santa Fe, has a reputation for producing unpredictable, sometimes provocative art. His oeuvre ranges from neon signs with absurd or explicit content to intricate sculptures, including a fountain made of bronze fish. In 2009, he earned the Golden Lion at the Venice Biennale for his U.S. pavilion installation.

Despite a long-standing career, Nauman remains reticent about prescribing fixed meanings to his work. He emphasizes the role of play and chance in the creative process, once selecting the order of videos for the exhibit by drawing paper slips from a hat. “Ellen said, ‘But wear the hat on your head so they’re close to your brain for a while,’” he recounted about his assistant Ellen Babcock, who also participates in some videos.

Nauman’s reflections touch on ideas akin to Zen principles, although he clarifies he is not a practicing Buddhist. He discusses the value of relinquishing ego, referencing lessons from a horse trainer who advised making it “the horse’s idea.” This philosophy informs Nauman’s approach to his artistic exercises, where repetition and fatigue generate a tension that propels creative discovery.

Throughout the conversation, Nauman reveals a nuanced attitude toward his output, expressing both attachment and ambivalence. While he desires his work to reach an audience, he admits regret about some pieces, particularly those “going somewhere I didn’t want to go.” At the same time, he acknowledges that revisiting older works often reveals unnoticed possibilities, suggesting a continual evolution in his practice even as he navigates the physical challenges of aging.