The sign says “The most important collection of modern and contemporary art in Europe.” That both says it all, and is merely a beginning — a portal to…
Years ago, before a trip to New York City, I read about Donald Judd’s studio and efforts to preserve its contents and open it to visitors. Yesterday’s New York Times has a beautifully written story about Judd, his work and those restoration efforts, now complete.
I am selflessly volunteering. It starts with some kind of twitch, I think, and from what I can gather, most of you are afflicted with some form of this thing, too: After going some while without being on a plane across an ocean, without having another stamp in the passport, without the struggle of a strange language in a strange land, without the gastrointestinal chaos that inevitably comes from cuisine found just the other side of one’s sphere of microbial familiarity, the twitch metastasizes.