A vast circular blackboard becomes the site of an intimate cosmological event in Tacita Dean's "In Montem (he fell)," a work of extraordinary scale and quiet intensity measuring nearly eight feet across. Rendered entirely in chalk, Dean's characteristic handwriting and drawn forms accumulate across the dark ground to conjure a world suspended between documentation and dream. The Latin title gestures toward ascent and descent simultaneously, folding classical mythology, personal narrative, and celestial observation into a single elliptical proposition. The circular format, a recurring devotion in Dean's practice, functions here less as a compositional choice than as a philosophical one, suggesting the closed loop of time, memory, and return. The chalk medium carries its own eloquent weight within Dean's broader commitment to endangered and fugitive materials. As with her sustained advocacy for analogue film, the use of chalk enacts a kind of tender resistance against permanence, where every mark remains provisional, subject to erasure, hovering just above the surface of its own disappearance. The blackboard ground amplifies this tension, evoking schoolroom epistemology and the transmission of knowledge while simultaneously threatening its dissolution. What appears here is not merely an image but a record of attention, the artist's sustained gaze turned toward something falling, something in motion, something partially understood. Presented through Marian Goodman Gallery Los Angeles, "In Montem (he fell)" arrives as a work of considerable collecting significance for those engaged with Dean's ongoing dialogue between mark-making, language, and the phenomenology of loss. Its commanding physical presence and conceptual depth place it firmly among her most affecting works in this medium.