i was there too and bochner was great. thoughful, prepared, well-presented and a personal interpretation of judd's writings from someone who has something to say. but as day 1 wore on (endurance) it was clear that i wasn't going to miss anything that i wouldn't get out of reading the transcripts. .. but it turns out, as the correspondant notes, that david rabinowich's performance piece, endurance piece, a friend describes, “i have never been so aware of duration” and he was one of the very few who stuck it out as DR would read one pithy statement regarding “objects”, without context, pause for a couple seconds, read another statement regarding objects, pause, repeated for close to an hourbut experienced, there was no way to predict when it may end. this, by all accounts, did not sit well with the audience, the vast majority leaving throughout. the presenters i endured, bochner, raskin, roberta smith, schiff: schiff was a bore, offering nothing interesting. smith was good. everyone seemed to be so concerned with the essay “Specific Objects” (except Nicola von Velsen, who spoke on Judd's essay on the exhibition Bilderstreit (“Bilderstreit”)either that or they hardly mentioned or engaged judd's writings at all. this is too bad, as judd's writings are pretty incredible. david raskin was terrible: boring, academic, offering a quantifiable way of interpreting and enjoying judd's work, specifically his Marfa installation, 100 mill aluminum boxes in the artillery shedsas an either/or dialectic: visual vs. form, if i recall the dualismart appreciation as a scientific endevorforget that paunchy raskin doesn't bring the landscape into consideration, explicitly brought in to the experience by judd who put in the length of wall-sized windows to bring it in explicitlythe point is, raskin, by my interpretation, is blinded by his art theories (apparently schiff is his mentor) and doesn't realize that, if anything, it's the phenomenological that can begin to lead to an articulation of experience.
and 2 of the best “installations” i have ever seen in my life were in marfa, and never get enough pressTony Feher's New American Landscape Painting and currently, the amazing, Meth Lab at Ballroom. it is AMAZING..
“It's freshman English forever and never no more literature.”
Look, my inspiration was J. Ashbery. I wrote my best in my thirties and stopped.
I don't write anymore.
One has to mediate (or is it mitigate) that transition
from abuse to engagement, does one not?
Let us toast.
That barring Ms. perhaps the conception of the blog as a genre separate entirely...
let us machine the intellectual.
The German(s) did win the first round.
But who can guess yet another thinker who might prove relevant to the discourse? Oh no, not Hegel. Getting closer.
No, not Derrida, though the thinker is French.
Any dinosaurs, prefiguring Lacan?
Any suggestions, Parharhar?
& to situate Freud...
Nice back, Berlin?
Ah, host...corpus to Time and what takes it; even Alexander the Great stood surveying a knot, nodding to neighbors far, far away, though they stayed...encouraging, presenting every now and again, a daughter,
horns somehow her extra, deference, an analog and later countenance, even.
What else but Time beckons, keeps the tether, taught separation and digit to fascinate, encompass Dante's question, namely: How an encampment neglects its patent symbol, shrouds its patrons when a gallow gathers glass, bone forgets forgiveness?
Familiarity seems territorial, these days, as becomes a paranoia, scout when introduction of a gift bears out the trust.
Especially as a friend. Just that.
T'was a lead foot that led “some” mercurial lamb to slaughter her own image in a deafness, sometimes, Dagwead, leave patience to its platform measuring a hand, a hand, a hand...that odd key keeping somehow the pleasure of a harvest, a picking and choice to witness only “some” passing by a well, that one so recently covered.
Damn. He's my brother.
THIS IS BORING.
must be time to end the thread then
i finally read YOUR threads...and liked them.
' course, it's hard to get past your threads...lol.