Early-twentieth-century Abstraction Is Art's Version Of Einstein's

Every Movement That Slays Its Gods Creates New Ones, Of Course. I Loathe Talk Of The Sixties And Seventies Being A 'greatest Generation' Of Artists, But If We're Going To Use Such Idiotic Appellations, Let This One Also Be Applied To The Artists, Curators, And Gallerists Who Emerged In The First Half Of The Nineties.

A Metaphysical Tour De Force Of Untethered Meaning And Involuting Interlocking Contrapuntal Rhythms, 'the Clock' Is More Than A Movie Or Even A Work Of Art. It Is So Strange And Other-ish That It Becomes A Stream-of-consciousness Algorithm Unto Itself - Something Almost Inhuman.

Certainty Sees Things In Restrictive, Protective, Aggressive Ways, And Thus Isn't Seeing At All.

Art Is A Way Of Showing The Outside World What Your Inside World Is Like.

'summer Of Love: Art Of The Psychedelic Era,' The Whitney Museum's 40th-anniversary Trip Down Counterculture Memory Lane, Provides Moments Of Buzzy Fun, But It'll Leave You Only Comfortably Numb. For Starters, It May Be The Whitest, Straightest, Most Conservative Show Seen In A New York Museum Since Psychedelia Was New.