Below are excerpts from catalogs, reviews and articles about my work.

Anne Gilman's super-sized scrolls feel like hand-drawn maps, perhaps charting a journey through a metaphysical region.

(This is an excerpt from a review in Hyperallergic of my solo exhibition, Up close/ in the distance/ now at Birmingham Bloomfield Art Center in September 2018.)

The show’s title, also the name of the two-sided free-hanging work that can be viewed in-the-round, “Up close / in the distance / now” (2018), underscores the plurality of these pieces, which chart both physical and temporal locations. Some other titles hint at locales or geologic features, many of which could also be interpreted as internal states: “Fault line” (2016), “The place of possibility” (2016), “The dividing line” (2017), and small works like “Chasm” (2017) and “rugged terrain” (2017). Others bear more time-centric titles: “Out of the blue” (2016), “You might wait forever” (2018), and “Sundowning” (2018). Still others represent ambiguous places of connection, tension, and change: “Conflict of interest” (2018), “Synapse” (2016), and a five-piece series of works in orange, collectively titled “Boiling point” (2018). Just like a boiling point, Gilman’s pieces seem determined to pinpoint those ephemeral places where time meets internal and external conditions to produce a palpable change.

I am acutely receptive to work of this nature, but all of these factors seem instantly discernible in Gilman’s work without necessarily diving into the content of her extemporaneous texts. When one does, there is confirmation of her themes around time and place, but also error, perfection, and anxiety. Somehow, one doesn’t need to know the exact words to infer musing and doing-over in the visual language of Gilman’s instinctively constructed and carefully redacted works. Just as the non-text sections of her images are built up through a layering of materials, the text portions undergo a similar process of elucidation and complication. This dualism is powerfully effective in creating a sense of struggle to orient oneself amid an internal landscape. These instructions are instantly discernible, but remain unclear, and give one the sense of having found maps to nowhere and everywhere.

ANNE GILMAN / Under the Radar

(This is an excerpt from an article about my work and my process in Vasari21, June 15th 2020.)

Anne Gilman’s oversized scroll “drawings” unfurl across the floor, against walls, from the ceiling, and sometimes over tabletops with a graceful ease that belies their sometimes anguished or anxious content. I put drawings in quotes because there is so much more going on here than mere lines or notations against a paper ground—taped areas, primitive diagrams, redacted written contents, suggestions of landscapes, and other elements realized in graphite, ink, ballpoint pen, and paint...When she is writing, Gilman puts herself quite literally in the center of the work: she rolls out the paper and sits on top of it. “I want to be inside the work,” she says. “I want to close off other people’s ideas of what the work should or shouldn’t be, and the way for me to do that is to be immersed in the page.” Afterward she will go back and use graphite, colored pencil, or tape to cover up those portions that seem to her “redundant or unimportant.”

Ann Landi is a writer who launched in 2015 after 20 years of writing about art for publications such as ARTnewsThe Wall Street JournalThe New York Times.

(This is an excerpt from the catalog produced in conjunction with my solo exhibition Descifrar: to decipher/decode/figure out at Instituto Cervantes in 2015.)

In her drawings, Anne Gilman seeks that immediate and primary encounter with thought and language, with memory, interpretation, and analysis. Observing the raw flow of her own thinking, she weaves in and out of two languages, consciously subjecting herself to the ambiguity of translation and the frequent insufficiency of words and their established meanings...During Gilman’s process, writing, drawing, and mark- making begin to inform and merge into one another, continually shifting shapes and intentions...chaos and order exist side by side, as do agitation and repose. Verbal and non-verbal realms meet in one present, unburdened by symbolism and regaining the unpredictable potential of pure form. 
Sabine Russ is a writer and the managing editor of Bombmagazine.