Confidence Is The Prize Given To The

I Have Never Been Against New Art As Such; Some Of It Is Good, Much Is Crap, Most Is Somewhere In Between.

Nothing They Design Ever Gets In The Way Of A Work Of Art

Perhaps The Rhinos And She-crocodiles Whose Gyrations Between Mortimer's And East Hampton Gives Us Our Vision Of Social Eminence Today Are Content To Entrust Their Faces To Andy Warhol's Mingily Cosmetic Polaroidising, But One Would Bet They Would Rather Go To Sargent.

The New Job Of Art Is To Sit On The Wall And Get More Expensive.

Why Should We Expect Modernist Taste To Be Any Smarter Than Premodernist Or Postmodernist?