Anybody Who Writes Knows The Horrible, Wonderful,

Our Culture Now Wonderfully, Alchemically Transforms Images And History Into Artistic Material. The Possibilities Seem Endless And Wide Open.

Galleries Began Growing In Both Number And Size In The Late Seventies, When Artists Who Worked In Lofts Wanted To Exhibit Their Work In Spaces Similar To The Ones The Art Was Made In.

The Very Paradigm Of Revolution, Of Right Versus Wrong, Good Versus Bad, Is A Relic With No Bearing On The Present. Yet Artists, Exhibitions, And Curators Valorize The Sixties. People Who Wrote About These Artists 30 Years Ago Still Write About Them In The Same Ways, Often For The Same Magazines.

New York Being What It Is, Our Museums Are Vertical, Not Horizontal. That Means The Stumbling Blocks To Architectural Clarity Are Unavoidable - But Certainly Surmountable.

My Culture-deprived, Aspirational Mother Dragged Me Once A Month From Our Northern Suburb - Where The Word Art Never Came Up - To The Art Institute Of Chicago. I Hated It.