The Bleakness That Bonds Us

I am a child of Watergate. When I was in grade school in the 1970’s it was an all consuming subject, even among eleven and twelve year olds. My small town high school library made sure there was a special reserve section that dealt with the issues surrounding the continuing unfolding of the scandal and

46 is 27 or The Math of 
Artistic Self Destruction

“. . . because art isn’t something out there…It is not a “picture” of an artistic experience. It has to become experience itself, and in that sense it can only be earned by one’s own body rhythms, one’s own color sense, one’s own sense of smell, of light, of texture being so automatically articulated there

A Pound of Flesh

“Thus ornament is but the guilèd shore To a most dangerous sea…” —William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice The latests meme fueling the zeitgeist is concerned with the obscene amount of money being spent on art, in this case one very specific triptych by the late Francis Bacon. The painting, Three Studies of Lucian Freud

Manifestos and Madness

“Mama always told me not to look into the eye’s of the sun But mama, that’s where the fun is” —Blinded by the Light, Bruce Springsteen 10. We want to demolish museums and libraries, fight morality, feminism and all opportunist and utilitarian cowardice. —F. T. Marinetti, The Futurist Manifesto (1909) In the recent issue of Harpers

Anthropic Landscapes and Memory

Apologies to Simon Schama’s fine book Landscape and Memory, but my title is appropriate for discussing how we observe art. The question that often comes up with friends of mine who are non-visual artists is “how do I look at art?” At a recent open studio, a friend of mine and I were ruminating on