I've Always Said That An Art Critic

Although I Adore The Italian High Renaissance, I'd Rather Look At Mannerism. The Former Is Ordered, Integrated, Otherworldly, And Grandiose; It Leaves You Feeling Hungry For Something Flawed And Of-the-flesh.

In The Seventies, A Group Of American Artists Seized The Means Not Of Production But Of Reproduction. They Tore Apart Visual Culture At A Time Of No Money, No Market, And No One Paying Attention Except Other Artists. Vietnam And Watergate Had Happened; Everything In America Was Being Questioned.

It's Great That New York Has Large Spaces For Art. But The Enormous Immaculate Box Has Become A Dated, Even Oppressive Place. Many Of These Spaces Were Designed For Sprawling Installations, Large Paintings, And The Relational Aesthetics Work Of The Past Fifteen Years.

Many Things Happened In The Sixties, But The Period Is No More Significant, Better, Or More 'political' Than Today. It's Time To Turn The Page.

Don't Talk. I Can't Hear Myself See.