
ONE PLACE AFTER ANOTHER
DONALD JUDD HEWED TO the same work schedule wherever he went: drawing every morning, reading every afternoon, be it in New York, Texas, or Switzerland. “There was no studio,” one of Judd’s assistants recalled. “Nothing existed. There was no material. . . . It was all in his head.” The late art of the peripatetic Albrecht Dürer (1471–1528) shares Judd’s enthrallment with routine, space, and seriality. It, too, arose from a career spent venturing, as Dürer’s sixteenth-century contemporaries remarked, “here and there [hin vnd vider].” A printmaker who traveled incessantly, Dürer exploded the idea