Now That Rates Are Moving Up, We're

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.

One Gets Tired Of The Role Critics Are Supposed To Have In This Culture: It's Like Being The Piano Player In A Whorehouse; You Don't Have Any Control Over The Action Going On Upstairs.

What We Need More Of Is Slow Art: Art That Holds Time As A Vase Holds Water: Art That Grows Out Of Modes Of Perception And Making Whose Skill And Doggedness Make You Think And Feel; Art That Isn’t Merely Sensational, That Doesn’t Get Its Message Across In Ten Seconds, That Isn’t Falsely Iconic, That Hooks Onto Something Deep-running In Our Natures. In A Word, Art That Is The Very Opposite Of Mass Media.

Works Of Art... Do Not Force Meanings On Their Audience; Meaning Emerges, Adds Up, Unfolds From Their Imagined Centres... Takes One Through The Process Of Discovering Meaning.

Now That Rates Are Moving Up, We're Seeing More Aggressive Offerings From Banks.