What appears to be a precarious balancing act is actually a testament to engineering. This is Richard Serra’s T.W.U. at the Deichtorhallen. T.W.U. stands for Trade Worker Union. It is more than just a sculpture. It is an emotional experience.
The Geöffnete Form Sculpture was a contribution to Hamburg’s new exhibition center in 1989. But it was created in 1980. The sculpture first stood on West Broadway in New York. It was surrounded by gray skyscrapers and city traffic.
The sculpture consists of three Corten steel plates. Each plate measures 10.97 meters high. They are 3.66 meters wide and 7 centimeters thick. The Free and Hanseatic City of Hamburg owns it.
Richard Serra challenges viewers. He wants them to confront their feelings about art. He also wants them to think divergently. He wants them to consider the uncertainty of existence.
Walking around T.W.U. changes your perception. Richard Serra said that step by step, the understanding of the sculpture changes. The huge steel plates seem to be able to fall over like a house of cards.
The plates lean. This adds to the feeling of instability. You only grasp the massiveness when you touch it. Serra’s slanting cuts add another layer of disorientation.
T.W.U.’s mission is to jolt viewers out of their routines. It is meant to confront them with art and life. You can decide if it provokes or sensitizes you.
Originally, welders connected the steel plates at the top. This was against Serra’s wishes. But the steel expanded and contracted. The welds broke. The sculpture remains stable because the plates support each other.
Richard Serra seeks to provide viewers with new experiences. He wants them to explore space and themselves. He engaged with urbanism and modern cityscapes. Sometimes he was sensitive and sometimes provocative.
Richard Serra found partners in German steelworks. They could realize his unusual commissions with precision. Serra participated in documenta 5, 6, and 8 in Kassel. He was invited to the Venice Biennale in 1984 and 2001.
Richard Serra had a solo exhibition at the Centre Pompidou in Paris in 1983. Twenty-four years later, he had a retrospective at the Museum of Modern Art in New York.
Richard Serra’s T.W.U. doesn’t aim to be pleasing. It aims to provoke. It stands strong near the railway underpass. It demands attention. The rust-red steel plates balance each other. Their weight alone holds them in place. The welds broke over time due to temperature changes.
As you approach the monument, you sense its scale. You feel small. You look up. You cannot grasp the whole sculpture at once. Its effect changes as you move. Each plate is slightly tilted. This creates tension. It also creates a latent sense of threat.
This minimalist monument represents nothing. Its power comes from its material. It comes from its form and weight. It challenges passersby. It invites dialogue. T.W.U. wasn’t designed for Hamburg. It originally stood in New York’s skyscrapers. It transforms its surroundings through its presence.
Richard Serra knew steel. He knew its possibilities and pitfalls. His bold outdoor sculptures often stirred emotions. Hamburg’s T.W.U. first stood in New York. It was among gray buildings and city traffic. It was installed at its current location when the Deichtorhallen opened in 1989.
Christina Weiss, Hamburg’s Senator for Cultural Affairs, championed the purchase of the sculpture. Serra believed that the sculpture has the unique ability to create its own place and space.