Vesna Jovanovic

October 2 - November 29, 2026 | Opening Reception / Meet the Artist: Friday, October 2 / 5 - 8pm

74 Days is a deeply intimate series of drawings made during the first weeks of the pandemic. Using ink, gouache, and acrylic pen, Vesna documents both the physical realities of illness and the emotional experience of confinement, creating an archive of vulnerability, resilience, and digital life.

Together alongside Kenneth Millington and Chenlin Cai's exhibits, a shared focus in the Gallery emerges in a dialogue on how we act, how we endure, and how our choices ripple through ourselves, others, and the planet. Visitors will move from intimate observation to bold visual narratives to luminous, contemplative installations, experiencing a rich spectrum of human stories.

By late 2019, Vesna Jovanovic had spent almost two years looking at a social networking app intended for healthcare professionals. In many ways the app was similar to Instagram—it featured posts from all over the world followed by comments and “likes,” except the posts were exclusively medical in nature. She made drawings based on the cultural aspects of each case study posted on the app.

In early 2020, Jovanovic noticed something new and unusual: almost every post involved an X-ray or MRI of lungs. Doctors and nurses discussed how quickly and suddenly patients were declining; their vitals were normal only minutes prior. Life around her in Chicago was unexceptional at the time, but the virus was creeping up in the news. Things changed quickly. On the first day of the stay-at-home order, she logged into the medical app and selected an image. Each day she found an image of lungs on the app, and each day she made a new drawing. This went on for 74 days—the full duration of the lockdown in Chicago.

Aside from the depiction of lungs, the drawings have two additional elements. One is an illustration of artifacts from the X-rays and MRI scans that Jovanovic added in acrylic pen. Many of these artifacts are digital anomalies such as mouse cursors and unit measurement scales, but some are simply folds in the hospital gown or jewelry that the patient wore during their scan. The second element is a silhouette of her glowing phone screen painted life-size in white gouache, counting the days in confinement by moving over a few inches each day.

This series is an archive of several layers of participation: the idiosyncrasies of each patient, the different manifestations of illness, the strained hospitals, the confinement of lockdown, and the digital confusion and fatigue.