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Let's just say that it's dying—although a slower and more agonizing death than I at first thought. Of course, what one is talking about is the death of a particular belief-system, the death of certain meanings. In fact, this continuation of painting as a kind of 'painted device' is a necessary part of
that 'dying' process. Work that had a critical relationship to painting external to it provided painting with a kind of meaning from the outside, as the other half of a dialectic.
This erasing of earlier meaning seems destructive, rather than creative,
precisely because the critical relationship is lacking.
The art market, which by nature is conservative—particularly in this country—loves paintings. Every illiterate, uncultured dingbat (rich or not) knows that paintings are art, are great investments, and look swell over the couch. Forget whatever historical necessity was thoughtfully felt by some artists for a return to painting; the market
is delighted to have paintings hip again.
Nullam Necrophilia Mon Amour
Every image and objec.
In art, the end is always