
Thelma Golden
IF THELMA GOLDEN IS NERVOUS, it doesn’t show. In May, she was named curator of the next Whitney Biennial—the bellwether art event that is always the source of juicy speculation followed by nonstop bitching—just as the institution became rudderless, with director David Ross leaving to head the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. Then there’s the lingering memory of the 1993 edition, of which Golden was one of three cocurators. Some crabby critics are still attacking that biennial, which was packed with overly political work that helped put race- and gender-based identity art on the map.
If Golden’s