When renowned sculptor Robert Therrien died in 2019 at age 71, he left behind a collection of mysterious note cards that provide glimpses into his artistic vision. Each small card featured a labeled line drawing, with recurring forms from his work like a keystone marked "this is her" or a bent cone titled "this is the path." One particularly intriguing card stood out: a paragraph of redacted dashes followed by the simple words "this is a story."
This enigmatic card has inspired the title of a major retrospective opening at the Broad museum on November 22. "Robert Therrien: This Is a Story," curated by Ed Schad, represents the first major presentation of Therrien's work since his death and his largest exhibition to date. The show explores the paradox at the center of Therrien's practice: creating sculptures of familiar objects that resist autobiographical interpretation while deriving meaning from what they evoke in viewers.
"On a very visceral level, these objects register as things that Therrien loved and valued," Schad explained. "But they do so by recalling one's own love of objects, one's own narratives and memories from childhood." This approach distinguished Therrien's work from the Minimalism and Pop art movements that dominated Los Angeles' cultural scene when he arrived in 1974.
Therrien gained recognition for transforming mundane objects into monumental sculptures that challenge perception and memory. His most famous work, "Under the Table" (1994), features a 20-foot-long oak table with six matching chairs, each nearly 10 feet high. The piece is permanently displayed at the Broad and is scaled exactly 3.6 times larger than its source material. Standing beneath the chocolate-brown table, viewers experience a return to childhood, overwhelmed by the wonder and isolation of being surrounded by enormous objects.
The retrospective showcases Therrien's mastery of scale through dramatic contrasts. The exhibition includes the smallest work the Broad has ever displayed—a five-inch light switch titled "No title (blue switch)" from 1988—alongside the largest piece the museum has ever exhibited, a 16-foot-tall stainless steel beard from 1999. Paul Cherwick, Therrien's assistant for 17 years and co-director of his estate, noted that the artist never titled his sculptures or explained their personal meaning, preferring that "people make their own connections, find their own way in."
Rather than organizing the 120 artworks chronologically, curator Schad designed an elliptical layout across the museum's 10,000-square-foot ground floor. This approach mirrors how Therrien worked, drawing connections between his sculptures, drawings, and paintings. Throughout the show, familiar forms reappear in different scales and materials, creating new resonances with each iteration. His chapel motif, with its distinctive off-center steeple, appears in varying sizes and materials including bronze, wood, silk screen, and brass.
Therrien's artistic process began with drawings and photographs before moving to fabrication, carefully calibrating each work to occupy a precise perceptual space. "More than size, it was about relationship," Schad said, "and locating where the memory lives in relation to the sculpture." Too small, and objects appeared toy-like; too large, they became mere spectacles. This careful balance created what curator Lynn Zelevansky described as sculptures that "suggest rationality and objectivity" while their "narrative associations denote interiority and personal history."
The exhibition recreates elements of Therrien's legendary downtown Los Angeles studio, which colleagues considered an extension of his consciousness. One room will be painted the muddy green of his staging area and equipped with the chalkboard rails he used to display paintings and drawings. The museum will also reconstruct "No title (room pots and pans)" (2008-15), a domestic installation featuring supersized cookware within the parameters of a small studio room.
Despite exhibiting widely at prestigious venues like Castelli Gallery, Konrad Fischer, the Whitney Biennial, and Documenta, Therrien lacks the name recognition of contemporaries. "Under the Table, along with Kusama's Infinity Mirror Room, is the most sought-after and commented upon work in The Broad's collection," Schad noted. "Nine out of ten visitors will say it's their favorite, but won't know who made it." This anonymity suited the artist, who avoided interviews and cameras, dissolving into his work like "most truly great artists," according to Schad.
The consistency of Therrien's vision across four decades creates a timeless quality in his work. Dean Anes, the artist's former liaison at Gagosian and co-director of his estate, explained: "It's easy to confuse something from 1977 with 2017. His subject matter, his handling of materials and surfaces, stayed pretty consistent over those 40 years." Though Therrien was a harsh critic of his own work, often destroying pieces or modifying previously exhibited works, his repetition of forms wasn't about refinement but about "working all the way through a form."
For the exhibition organizers, the retrospective offers both a tribute to Therrien's unique artistic vision and a respite from contemporary chaos. Anes views the show as offering visitors "an escape from the current sociopolitical tumult," while Schad frames it as a counterproposal to today's fast-paced digital culture. "To present slowness instead of speed, care instead of frenzy," he said, "feels pretty radical." True to Therrien's intention, the story ultimately belongs to each viewer, creating personal connections with these transformed everyday objects.
