two articles reviewing two art shows on the front page of the Weekend Arts section of the New York Times, October 19, 2007:
"The glossy seven-pound catalog oscillates between the sublimely illuminating and the ridiculous..." Roberta Smith reviewing "Gustav Klimt" at the Neue Gallery.
"The exhibition catalog--seven pounds of pure information--tells us that..." Holland Carter reviewing "Tapestry in the Baroque" at the Met.
What else will weigh in today at 7 pounds? What does seven pounds point us toward? If the world were a novel what would we make of the authors choice to emphasize 7 pounds in this morning's paper?
Friday, October 19, 2007
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