I’ve always wondered why the New York Observer didn’t have an art critic, but mentioning it, well, that’s not how I was raised.
Fortunately, Jerry Saltz was raised by wolves or something, because he doesn’t mind pointing out that the Observer’s art mentioner Mario Naves is an empty, conservative prig. The fact that it comes after a rousing ode to Duchamp’s urinal only makes it sweeter; and it takes “I know you are but what am I?” off the table as a Navesian retort.
There should be more critic-on-critic smackdown events these days; charge ten bucks and raise some money for charity.
Idol Thoughts, Idiot Wind [villagevoice.com]
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the making of, by greg allen