My Job As Art Critic

Works Of Art Often Last Forever, Or Nearly So. But Exhibitions Themselves, Especially Gallery Exhibitions, Are Like Flowers; They Bloom And Then They Die, Then Exist Only As Memories, Or Pressed In Magazines And Books.

The Debut Show, “second Lives: Remixing The Ordinary,” Is Supposed To Be About How Artists Reuse Humble Or Unusual Materials. There’s Good Work Here, But Much Of What’s On View Is Actually More About Obsession And Repetition: A Couch Made Out Of 3,500 Quarters, A Necklace Composed Of 100 Handgun Triggers. The Building, Too, Seems Caught Between Wanting To Be An Object Of Decorative Delectation And Making An Architectural Statement.

Billions Of Photos Are Shot Every Year, And About The Toughest Thing A Photographer Can Do Is Invent An Original, Deeply Personal, Instantly Recognizable Visual Style. In The Early Nineties, Wolfgang Tillmans Did Just That, Transforming Himself Into A New Kind Of Artist-photographer Of Modern Life.

Rumors Sound Of Galleries Asking Artists For Up-sized Art And More Of It... Everything Winds Up Set To Maximum In Order To Feed The Beast. Bigness Is Not All Bad. There's Something Pleasing About Large, Well-lit Spaces. But The Bigness Has Also Led To A Narrowing Of Sensibilities, By Making It Very Hard For Any But The Glitziest Works To Get Traction.

'summer Of Love: Art Of The Psychedelic Era,' The Whitney Museum's 40th-anniversary Trip Down Counterculture Memory Lane, Provides Moments Of Buzzy Fun, But It'll Leave You Only Comfortably Numb. For Starters, It May Be The Whitest, Straightest, Most Conservative Show Seen In A New York Museum Since Psychedelia Was New.