Michael Kelly


    THE SHOW RECENTLY CURATED by Jacques Derrida at the Louvre museum in Paris—“Mémoires d’aveugle: L’auto-portrait et autres ruines” (Memories of the blind: The self-portrait and other ruins)—“reads” as if the philosopher were unwittingly enacting the roles both of “the Philistines blinding Samson” and of “Christ healing the blind,” the titles of two drawings in the show.1 This improbable combination was evoked at the press opening, when Derrida explained that the text generously accompanying the art was there to serve as a “bâton d’aveugle”—a blind man’s cane—to guide the viewers. Someone